Sunday Service (written last Sunday)

What a day in service. We met Francisco (Panchito) in the park at 7:00 am. Panchito is an unusually tall brother in our hall. Super nice and always very encouraging. As most are here, he is very hard core when it comes to service. No one escapes his radar and he very rarely takes no for an answer. “Every one needs a good witnessing, especially the ones who think they aren’t interested.” He always has a huge, goofy smile on his face and some “funny” joke of the day.

Anyway, we met him in the park and witnessed there for a few minutes, and then decided to move on to greener pastures, that is, in front of the bus terminal a few blocks away. It was very busy with tons of people. We made our way down the line of people, talking to each one and after reading a scripture or two, left a tract. We place hundreds of tracts, more than any of the other literature.

During a lull in people, Panchito pulled out his flute and started practicing. He said he brings it with him everywhere in case he has a moment to practice. It is a recorder looking thing, but made out of wood, that is used for the folksy Andian music here in the Mountains. He tried to teach Hannah and I but we couldn’t make it make a sound. Mid song, a fight broke out between a cab driver, a guy, and what appeared to be the guy’s family. The women and little girl were screaming at him to just leave, but he just pushed them off the side walk. Must have been drunk, because that was a very rude way to treat his wife and daughter. Anyway, after a few clumsy punches, it broke up and we got back to witnesses, this time further down Interoceanica (main street) at the Sunday market.

There’s no standing around waiting for the perfect situation to present itself. We just followed Panchito’s example and tried to talk to each person at the entrance of the market, one at a time, or sometimes in groups. Talk about intimidating. To actually enter the market would be suicide, with all the flying meats and corn shucking going on. So we hung out in the front and talked to a number of people. Hannah started talking to a women with 5 kids sitting under a tree. She asked the women if she would like her to return next Sunday and study the bible with her, as she could learn a new bible teaching each Sunday in 15 minutes. The women said yes! The last man I approached was sitting at the bus stop by himself. I asked him how he was and he said “better than you.” So I said “porque dice eso?” He went off about how hellfire doesn’t exist and neither does reincarnation. Not really sure where he was going with that, but I do know it was not what i was prepared to talk about, but I read the only scriptures I knew on the subject that were simple enough for me to explain afterwards. In the end, he asked for directions to the kingdom hall so he could come. He said he will not participate, no matter how we make him try. He only wants to listen to see what is said there. I had to call Panchito over to help with the direction giving, where a much nicer formal invitation was made to the man.

The Spanish here is very different from Mexican spanish. Everything is highly formal (which is why it’s easier to understand I think, less slang), but very loving and respectful. Householders are greeted as, “My lovely lady of the house.” And children are my “precious one” or “mi Corazon”, “mi amor,” etc…It’s so cute. Every brother and sister is called Hermanito or Hermanita, no matter their age. And the diminutive ito is used at the end of every word practically. It was funny at first, but now I like it. With all the sisters and about half the brothers in the hall, kisses replace handshakes, but either way, you don’t leave a venue of brothers/sisters without properly “greeting” every single one. Even when someone walks in late to a service meeting, they still go around and shake hands with everyone. It is a welcomed interruption it seems. Conversations are constantly being interrupted for hand shakes and kisses before someone has to leave.

Anyway, after we were done with street work, at 8:30, we went to catch the bus that would take us 20 minutes away to Collaqui, were we meet for Sunday service. It was already getting really hot, so we stopped by a street cart and bought an ice cream. (Everyone and their mother eats ice cream here. It is more popular than coffee in Hillsboro! The tough, tattooed guys on motorcycles ride down the street with their ice cream cone in hand. Business men walk down the street after a big meeting licking their ice cream cones. There are ice cream shops every other shop on the streets.) While we were waiting, Panchito said he wanted to congratulate us on our espiritu fuerte (strong spirit) learning the language, and other much undeserved praise. They are all so encouraging. Once on the bus, out came the flute for a few minutes, until he saw a women get on and sit across from him. Then out came the bible. He shared a number of scriptures with her and then resumed his flute practice. It was so funny though, he chose to talk to her about the husband’s role in the family and how they need to love their wives more and do the things God wants them to do for their wives. He was speaking very loudly, I think so the rest of the bus would listen too. And it worked. Three men in the rows in front of him all turned completely around in the isle and listened to his little talk with intense concentration. Talk about taking advantage of every opportunity.

On Sunday, the group is always a good size, despite being on a Sunday and so far away. There were about 35 or 40 people there. The territory out there is very dusty and hot with a lot of angry dogs. The sun is horrible. Unfortunately, it’s not the kind of sun that will change the color of your skin into a nice bronze tan. The sun is very strong at this altitude, but it gives you red spots, brown spots, wrinkles and heat stroke, and nothing more. So obviously we try to avoid it when possible, but my umbrella broke, so I was left to the elements today.

Around 12:30, and after an hour of walking, looking for our group, a brother came to pick us all up and drop us off at our respective destinations. We would have usually taken the chicken bus home, but we were pretty far out from the main roads. After dropping off the last sister before we headed back to town, we saw Panchito walking down the dusty road with his flute, unusually tall and merry. After pulling over to see what his plans were, he said he had a study a ways down the dirt road. Of course he said so with a huge grin and mischievous happiness. My guess is he’d probably be walking for at least an hour. Everything is “just down the road”, even though it takes an hour or more to get there. Well, we said our goodbyes and off he went happily trotting along to his bible study, playing his wooden flute.


-elsie