I’m in Ecuador! We landed close to midnight on Friday. Apparently I looked really funny lugging my backpack around because a bunch of Ecuadorian men laughed at me as I rounded the corner to the airport’s greeting area. Gustavo, our contact, greeted us all with a hug and a kiss on the cheek (a proper Ecuadorian greeting).
Day one of ministry at Covi consisted of planting a garden. Thankfully, Jacquelyn, a girl on my team, grew up on a farm and knew exactly what to do and gave us instructions on how to plow and what seed needed to be planted where. I never realized how much I love manual labor! There were lots of kids jumping in to help. I dug tiny holes three fingers apart in the plowed rows and the kids followed behind planting the seeds.
Apparently, modesty is not a high priority in Ecuador because as we gathered to pray over the newly planted garden we spotted a man changing in the background. Two of our teammates were spared, unfortunately the youngest was not; we had a good laugh.
Most of the kids at Covi are there because they don’t have anywhere else to go during the hours before and after school. Their parents are working during the day and income is limited. Tamarita is the director of the facility and has so much love for the kids. Maria is the cook and I have never seen a woman work so hard in my life. She makes two meals a day feeding fifty plus kids, cleans the kitchen, dining room, bathrooms, meanwhile engaging the children; they all love her.
After planting the garden I went out to the park to play with some of the kids. They wanted to play “Football Americano!” They demonstrated this by tackling each other and then attempting to tackle me. I withdrew to safety, a nearby swing set. A little boy named Jesús followed me and got on the swing next to me. It’s not everyday you get to swing next to Jesus. We competed with how high we could swing before jumping. He encouraged me with, “Mas Alto! Mas Alto!”
Jesús and I then ventured over to a seesaw. It was the stand up kind (which I had never attempted before) and my end had a jagged pole that was broken, I knew it was a hazard, but I thought I’d just hold on below the broken part. We laughed as we bounced up and down, but then Jesús decided to jump off without warning! Causing me to crash to the ground, my hand slipping and cutting my left thumb. It bled a lot and may leave a scar, but I’m glad, because it’s a memory of my time in the park with Jesús; a little boy whose story I know little of, but one I can only assume is broken and maybe lost amidst the struggle of meeting some of life’s most basic needs.
