This week was something.
Barbosa is a city on the slope of a large Valley. There is a river at the bottom of the valley that divides two Colombian states: Boyaca and Santander. I think I've said it before, but the river is great. It's covered in jungle, the sun's always reflecting off of it. Blessed are the eyes that watch it. Anyway, Barbosa is in Santander. Manrique and I spotted houses on the other side of the river that we hadn't seen. We crossed the bridge to scope it out. Immediately, we saw a small wood shack, and a little boy sitting in front listening to regaton on a radio (loud to the point of bass distortion). We introduced ourselves, and asked if his parents were home. His mom was. Her name is Maria; she has pink hair. 75% of our investigators are named Maria. Her 22 year old son died 5 months ago. He went off one day with a friend or an uncle. 5 days later, they found his body in that beautiful, unforgiving river. She was crying. We gave her an abbreviated version of the message, told her it will be alright, and moved to the next house.
The next house belonged to Mariluz and Miguel. A couple in their 40s(?). Mariluz saw us walking by, and immediately told us to sit with them. Mariluz was a talker, I think Miguel was high. He just smiled at everything. We discussed missionaries and los mormones. But all Mariluz wanted to talk to us about was this Metaphysics book she's been reading that I guess has become the frame of her whole worldview. It's by this Venezuelan. She was telling us about how some man from another planet reincarnated himself in Joseph so he could talk to Jesus or something. I asked her if I could borrow the book, but Manrique reminded me we can't read. Miguel had a nice black poncho and I told him so. Then Mariluz comes out with 3 ponchos and gives them to us. What a heart. We gave her a BOM, and departed into pouring rain, but all was good because now we had ponchos.
I also forgot a story that happened last week. We were going to visit Osman (who was baptized by Elder Porras in December). He wasn't home. We were waiting for him outside his house (which sits on a hill, on the corner of a 4 way intersection). Suddenly, a man in red comes bolting down the hill. We thought nothing of it. 5 seconds later 6 cops come sprinting in from another side of the intersection (WHERED HE GO, DID YOU SEE? LEFT LEFT! NO HE WENT UP! STRAIGHT!) 5 cops kept running straight, one cop went up, noone went down. Me, Manrique, and a neighbor fellow all smirked. No ones getting caught today...
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I had companion exchanges with the Bolivian, Rastafarian son of a gun Elder Arteaga. I realized I forgot the keys to our apartment on my bed that morning. We went to find a cerrajero. We found one guy who wasn't available, sent us to another guy, who wasn't open. We didn't know what to do. We went inside a bakery. We asked the owner if he knew any locksmiths.
Have you checked here?
Yes.
Here?
Yes.
Hmm. Well there is one man. He does it on the side. El Chacon.
El Chacon?
El Chacon. He can get any door open in Barbosa.
We got some vague directions and set out to find him. We asked inside a few shops.
Is El Chacon here?
No, further down...
Is El Chacon here?
No, by the clockshop...
Is El Chacon here?
Next door.
And next door was a tiny little shop, with a little man sitting in the shadows toward the back, working away on some unidentifiable something.
Are you El Chacon?
I am El Chacon.
I locked my keys in my house. Can you get the door open?
El Chacon took out a big metal stick, we all walked to our apartment. He stuck the stick into a crease in the door and Hallelujah. Then El Chacon ran off, back into the shadows.
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Edwin compartió
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Another day, Manrique and I were walking around the bottom stretches of Barbosa, the dangerous part of town. We saw a lady and her kids heating huge (palm tree?) leaves over a fire for tamales. Then we heard commotion, and saw 2 fellows killing pigs with blow torches and then knifing off the joints, to sell to butchers. All the neighborhood kids were watching.
There is an ex-missionary named Richard, who served in Barbosa 10 years ago, and he's back in town. Richard is a 4 10¨ Peruvian firecracker who talks 100 miles an hour. He's really fun to go to lessons with. He's always planning something with us.
Guys, do you know what we have to do? We gotta make a huge BOM out of cardboard, put it up downtown, meet a MOUNTAIN of people (he always says "mountain of__").
Guys, we have to have a night of pancakes, invite everyone, we´ll watch movies...
Guys we NEED to invite Doris for a Chicken party. There will be chicken, soda, Ill buy...
He's a crazy one.
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With Richard, we met a kid on the road named Alejandro.
Alejandro kind of looks like a human snake. He has 6 cellphones and says
"I've been to every church in Barbosa but yours."
He was asking us if we wanted to play basketball one of these days. We said sure, maybe tomorrow. No official plans made.
The next day, we were walking to our apartment and saw Alejandro waiting outside.
"I've been waiting for an hour."
"Alejandro, hey man, how's it going?"
"I thought we made plans..."
We had to go to another appointment so we told him sorry, maybe another day.
It was strange, now we think Alejandro is gonna go Robert De Niro Taxi Driver on us.
We run in to him everyday in different edges of Barbosa.
to be continued...
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Anyway, the week was packed to the brim.
Not to mention playing Monopoly with this 12 year old named Santiago who would shout OH BABY at the top of his lungs in a thick Colombian accent anytime anything ever happened to him in the game.
I also combined pineapple juice with Colombiana soda. The drink is called Paradise now.
