One of the first questions I asked our pastor when we arrived in Albania was, "Where are the women hiding?" When you walk the streets in Albania you will start to notice a lack of feminine presence. And then each and every day we would go to our bar/cafe next to the church filled with men. Yet us four women went in confidently each and every day for a cappuccino or chocolat or macchiato. And the men began to stare. There were even moments that men turned their chairs to watch us. I asked so many people that month, "Where are the women hiding? And why do the men stare at us?"
The women in our village are expected to be home by 4 pm and they do not go to the bar/cafe like we American women so the men were always surprised to see us. I desperately wanted to minister to women this month. I kept thinking how uncomfortable I'd be to make friends with a bunch of young men. So I still kept asking and trying. But God had different intentions for our team.
We went to a prison. It was also full of men. There was no escaping them. We had a youth service the first Friday night and about 40 kids showed up. Maybe only 5 of them were girls who left after 30 minutes after service. The boys stayed for hours.
Valentine's Day was the turning point. Some of us were asked to dance with boys at the high school dance. It was those boys and their friends that we ended up becoming friends with and spending most of our time pouring into. Because after that dance, they showed up at church and the cafe and everywhere we were. They became our ministry – a bunch of rough and tough boys.
I'll never forget how much we women were stared at the beginning of the month in the bar/cafe and then by our last week the boys were coming and pulling up chairs to sit and laugh with us for hours and how we got to talk about Jesus and following Him.
I'll never forget watching our tattoo artist friend change over the month. He was a rough guy who seemed a bit intimidating and always stayed cool. But in the end was laughing and smiling and being completely goofy with us.
I'll never forget the 21 year old boy who asked me to dance on Valentine's Day and followed me around the rest of the month and gave me my first flower that he made out of a napkin while sitting at the cafe. When I was in Cambodia, I fell in love with a little boy named, Paleong. It stung the whole week leading up to our departure knowing I would say goodbye to that face. I felt the same way about this boy. He had become family to me. I knew it was going to sting very much.
I never thought this month would be what it was. My expectations were so different from reality. This was our first month we have ministered almost completely to men. I have cried a few nights last week thinking that I was tired of falling in love with people for only days just to have to say goodbye to them. My heart ached for home because I was feeling emotionally frustrated. How can I bear my heart this way for another 5 months? While the heart wrenching goodbyes are goodbyes I'll never regret, do I want anymore? At night I think no, I just want to go home and say my hellos.
But all the boys have made my goodbyes worth it. I would do the month all over again if I could, so I know there is still more to give.
