your feet are the zoom

(via cameroncollins-deactivated20111)

that I don’t always notice when people are speaking in english. responses in spanish are common. 

Family. 

Yesterday and today, there was an african festival in Roquetas. The Sereer Association of Roquetas hosted an african wrestling tournament (or maybe it was just an exhibition?) at the soccer field. In Spanish, they call it lucha. 

This woman, who has become like another mother to me, told us about it and sat with us both yesterday and today. Sitting with her family, I truly felt at home. Here I was, at an african festival in Spain, and I felt so loved. What a beautiful thing it is to interact cross-culturally. Without branching out, I couldn’t make such friendships and experience such love and hospitality. 

a few weeks ago at ladies’ class, one of the women showed up with a couple pieces of news. the first was that she couldn’t come to class the week before because her aunt in africa had died in childbirth. after we soaked that up for awhile and expressed our condolences, she told us that the husband of another lady from ladies’ class had recently died. the woman had asked her to tell norma, the leader of the class.

we all decided to go to the woman’s house to visit. the whitleys, chelsey, norma, another woman, and i all piled in the car. when we got there, there were a lot of people at the house. most of the men were sitting outside, while the women were sitting inside or were out back cooking.

in africa, when a person dies, everyone goes to their house to be with their family. the women cook in large quantities for all the people that will come. the men and the women sit and fellowship. this sort of memorial can go on for at least a month. in spain, the africans continue similar practices. going to visit the burial ground is also a big deal. even if they can’t really afford it, the spouse will go back to africa to bury the deceased. while we were there, we saw several of the women praying, and the men went to the mosque a couple times to pray and to prepare the body. 

we were a little unsure about being there or at least about staying for a long time. the american culture in us felt like we were imposing, especially since chelsey and i had never met the woman before that day. however, joel and tiffne’s experiences in africa told us that staying would be good, and it turned out to be the right decision. 

the whitley parents, the whitley children, chelsey, and i stayed at the woman’s house for at least five hours that day. joel sat with the men, the children played with the children, and we sat with the women or “helped” them cook. we stayed and ate their delicious food with them as well. 

when we were leaving, the women thanked us. they appreciated that we stayed with them, ate with them, and didn’t ask questions. they said most people come and then leave. here we were, thinking we were being a burden, and they were thanking us for being there. they blessed us twice: once with their hospitality and another time with their thanks.

the summer after eighth grade, my church youth group and i went on a mission trip to brazil. we all bonded with the translators, who were just ordinary high school and college students from the church with whom we were working. i was inspired to commit to becoming fluent in a foreign language (in my case, spanish). i saw that bilingualism was an awesome ministry tool, and even if i didn’t go into the ministry, i knew i wanted to use spanish to go on mission trips. 

seven years, a call to ministry, and a spanish degree later, the tables have turned. now i’m the one translating and building relationships with people who don’t speak english. 

this weekend, i went to lorca with the team from the states, a man from the church in almería, and a youth pastor from honduras. joel and tiffne couldn’t be there, so they asked me to lead up the translating. i agreed to it as long as i didn’t have to translate a sermon. they assured me that i wouldn’t have to. 

five minutes before the service, the honduran youth pastor asked me if i would translate his sermon. reluctant and terrified, i agreed to do so. he told me that he wasn’t going to pause, so i would just have to go for it. thankfully, he ended up pausing to give me some help. although i know i was super awkward and not necessarily super engaging (besides imitating sound effects and throwing in words like “chilling” and “yall”), i succeeded in translating the sermon. the pastor spoke english, so there were a few times he had to correct me or fill in parts i didn’t catch, but overall it went well. the rest of the weekend, i was the translator instead of the pastor, and he told me i was “the man.” 

the sermon was about moses and how God used the shepherd’s staff to reach out to pharaoh. moses thought he had nothing to offer, but God used the simple thing he had in his hand. the pastor asked us to consider what we held in our hands that God was calling us to use. that night was confirmation that i held spanish and other gifts and that God wanted me to use those things for the kingdom. 

a church group just came to visit from the states. 13 extra people packed into our house, and we lived in extremely close quarters for six days. 

with them, they brought a much-needed burst of energy, enthusiasm, and encouragement. it was great to share with them what i have been up to all summer and why i am here. they brought their own perspective on why these things are important and what we should take from these experiences. i am grateful for the spiritual reminders that they gave as well: i had flashbacks to my days in youth group when bible study and prayer was something that was encouraged by the structure of my life and the culture of my friend group. 

being with the group also offered new opportunities. this weekend, we went to lorca to visit a church affected by the earthquake this spring. we hung out with this church, learned more about its social ministries, and saw the effects of the earthquake firsthand. friday and monday, we went to mojonera to hang out with a house of senegalese guys. we heard about their experiences, bonded with them, ate their yummy food, and played soccer. yesterday, we visited a greenhouse and learned how food is grown in this area. 

two summers ago, when i worked at urbanpromise, one of the leaders used the movie forest gump as a illustration of the relationship between long term and short term ministry. in the movie, forest gump runs for days and weeks and months without stopping. different people get on board and run with him. some run for long periods of time and some run for shorter periods of time, but each of them brings him encouragement. in this illustration, the whitleys are forest gump, who is running for the long term. chelsey and i run along side them for a couple months and bring aid and encouragement.  groups like the team from blue springs run for a week, but likewise bring new energy and perspective to rejuvenate us. i’m thankful to them for helping me be more fully present and to appreciate what i’m currently experiencing. 

Manzanas.