3:31 PM
OCTOBER 28th, 2019
Hey there! A day late but still kicking so that’s good!
This week has been, as per usual, very busy. We got the chance last night to go to a ministry at the church called Soups & Showers. This is an opportunity for the local homeless community to come and get a shower, a haircut, a full belly, and some love from us.
While most of my night was spent babysitting, I got the opportunity to spend some time with the men who came and paint with watercolors. They each got a little bible verse at the bottom of their pages and some sweet time with all of us.
It was super cool to see people that we had previously interacted with on the streets and actually get to sit down and laugh with them. One man held up a watercolor of a funny looking man and pointed at his friend and said that it looked like him. And we all just spent the time laughing and poking fun at each other. Each of them, despite having told me stories of the war and revolution they endured, were able to smile and joke around. Even without steady meals or a home to go to after sitting at the church with us, they were presently happy and enjoying one another’s company.
This week, as Tye and I were walking along the beach, we saw a man washed up on shore. Face down, still, and alone. Confused as to whether or not he was just chilling or if he was hurt, we fast walked over to him as a woman approached with her cell phone. I asked her if she spoke Spanish and if she knew the man. She told me she didn’t know him, she just saw him like this. I looked down and asked him what language he spoke. He said in a muffled voice that he only spoke Spanish, and then that he was very tired. I knelt down as another man ran up to see what was happening. He asked what the problem was and I told him that I only just stumbled upon him. We rolled him over and began to drag him further up the beach. All the while he mumbled over and over, “Solo cansado.” (Just tired.)
When we got a good ways back, his stomach began heaving while he lay on his back. In a rush, I tipped him onto his side and he threw up heaps of salt water and what smelled like tequila. His eyes were as red as I’ve ever seen and it looked as though he had been strangled. A size able crowd had formed by this point, and I sat with him while he threw up and others called an ambulance. He continued to mumble that he was only tired. Which, at this point it was very clear he was drunk. When the paramedics got there, we helped him up onto a gurney while he threw up more.
At this point, we met someone who lives here who told us that in Jacó, they have a thing where they get ridiculously intoxicated, walk out to sea, pass out, and drown or get washed up on shore. And I remembered a woman who once had walked past me holding a bottle of vodka, covered in sand and sobbing. When I approached her to ask what was wrong, she grabbed onto me and told me she wanted to be left alone, clearly ridiculously drunk.
This sort of showed me just how broken people are. Even people who live in a beautiful place like this, who don’t know Jesus, are unhappy. They have no idea what they need, they just know that there’s something in life that feels out of reach. People drown themselves in alcohol, drugs, partying, sex, anything that they can find to fill a gap they can only fill with Him.
We leave for Panama on Thursday early morning, so talk soon!! Peace out.
