We made it to Latacunga, Ecuador and are in the midst of
serving at the orphanage. We are living on the second floor of the building, so
we really get to immerse ourselves in this ministry for the month. The massive
volcano here, Cotopaxi, has been hiding above the clouds, so we haven’t gotten
a great look at it. But the base is very large. And there is another volcano
(also visible from orphanage grounds) that is currently spewing (don’t know if
that is the technical term, but it is not erupting [relax mom], yet it is
spouting out some things. It is pretty awesome).
We got a pretty huge surprise on our way in to Latacunga. We
were riding with our contact, Jenn, and a short-term missionary serving with
her. Both are from the states and spoke perfect English and Spanish. They were
so great and told us so much about the ministry. But then they told us they had
to be in Quito this month and were just dropping us off. And that NOBODY at the
orphanage spoke English.
So the seven of us are here, with a huge language barrier.
Lucky for us, Sarah has some high school Spanish under her belt. But it is
tough. The kids are wonderful. They come from such broken pasts (most were
abandoned here in Latacunga and were found alone in the street or in the
hospital alone, and authorities contacted the orphanage). The women who serve
the kids are heroes, incredibly giving and relentlessly at work.
The language barrier is a challenge. It is so strange to try
to serve these care-givers without being able to talk to them efficiently. We
are working on charades. And “Como se de se” is becoming a much used phrase.
And as much as a worry the barrier can be. We are finding
that there is nothing that love cannot conquer. Nothing is a barrier for love.
Love has become our language. Smiles. Gestures. Celebrations of understanding.
Games and laughing. Our first night here, we sat with the care-takers and
helped fold laundry, giggling through the struggle to communicate. Making great
connections. Succeeding, brokenly but beautifully, most every time. The second
night, we prayed for them and sang over them, after the kids went to sleep, for
about an hour and a half.
The sad reality is that some of these kids have disorders so
great that they cannot speak, in any language. But they are so beautiful. They
look at you and light up. They have love living inside them. I am so excited to
be here for the rest of the month and explore the love of Christ (in any
language or gesture).
Am missing all of you. Talked today about Boston, Jon Snape,
and my mom’s driving with teammates. You are all on my heart and in my prayers.
