Rosario
After arriving in Ocotal, Nicaragua Thursday evening, Pastor Orlando informed our team he had arranged for us travel to Rosario. Rosario, a poe dunk village nestled in the breath taking mountains of Nicaragua, was hours from any major city. The weekend was great for countless reasons. Among the many reasons, one specific blessing was that God allowed me to taste a completely different way of life.
Some Random things about Rosario:
As we waited in the line for gas, there was a teenage boy on a bicycle. He was also waiting in line for gasoline.
Out houses. As our team jokingly says it best, out houses are “no bueno.” The combination of rotting doors and the sweet smell of urine could have been enough for me. But, no, we also had the blessing of using the restroom accompanied my more flies than were present in the Exodus out of Egypt.
Some locals chose to urinate immediately behind of the outhouse, instead of actually using the outhouse. Sometimes they choose do this while you are using the outhouse. Waiting in line, I am guessing is an American curdisy.
In Rosario some pigs are as large as a small horse. No exaggeration. Oh, and for those a you that have never seen a horse size pig poop, let me address this for just one moment. Pigs poop in the same way dogs do.
Our team had a chance to lead worship. This is hilarious if you can grasp the irony of the situation. For those of you reading that do not know team Pi, our musical talent is minimal to say the least. Josh is quite the guitar player and Dre can hold a note, but as for the rest of us our singing should be reserved for the shower. However, the church leaders thought highly enough of our rendition of Amazing Grace to land us stage center in the evening service. Leading worship involved two microphones, a guitar, and a sound system that was so loud it could easily be heard in Honduras. The irony of this situation is our lousy sining was by far the best all weekend. The worship in this small town could be comparable to taking two large pots and banging them together for hours without end. I am convinced that in order to be invited to serve in the praise band the requirement is to literally “make a joyful noise unto the Lord.”
We had a chance to drink coffee with a beautiful Nicaraguan believer. When we asked how close we were to the Honduras boarder, the response given to us was “two and a half hours…..on horse back.”
To our advantage the “backyard” had multiple purposes. It was the chicken pen, the pig coup, the shower and the water tank, and hang out area.
The “roads” (if you venture to call them roads) consisted of about three feet of complete mud. Yet, this did not stop the drivers one bit. Through many feet of mud they drive up mountain inclines so steep it would leave any civil engineer cringing. And are bridges really needed? In Rosario they are not. When our truck crammed with about twenty people arrived at the river, we simple drove straight through it. Rocks and rapids in all.
And if you were wondering about what to make for dinner tonight? Well, in Rosario this is not a concern. If it was breakfast we ate chicken, beans and rice. For lunch, we ate chicken, beans and rice. And for dinner? Yes, you guessed it. Chicken, beans and rice. Furthermore, when you go to a restaurant to eat there is no menu. You eat what they cook. I will give you one guess to figure out what is served.
Lastly, there is no need for alarm clocks in Rosario. If hourly rooster crows or the screeching parrot or the howling dogs or snorting pigs wasn’t enough to wake us up each morning, we did not need to worry about over sleeping. The first thing Rosarian do when they awake at 4:00 each morning is blast, no actually I mean blare, Spanish music.
