Valle Guanape (Anthony)

What a time we're having. I know that they don't keep stats on this kind of thing, but it feels like our team has to be about the busiest YES team ever. We just got back March 20th from a week in Valle Guanape (a small village near Charallave). A married couple in the church travels this 3 hour trip every two weeks and leads the people in devotional and prayer times for a couple days. They wanted to take us with them for the experience so we took off last Saturday morning and spent the week with them.

All 5 of us stayed with a local family in their small house. We provided all their food, as well as ours, for the week as a repayment for staying in their house. It was a very simple place: 2 small bedrooms, a kitchen, bathroom, and a decent sized "living room" where everyone camped out for the night. Our week consisted of visiting the sick and elderly, teaching classes to the kids, and holding nightly services for the community. It was a good experience and an opportunity to visit a different part of the country and make some new friends.

We spent the afternoons resting up and the evenings working with the kids. It was somewhat encouraging to see more and more kids appear every night to spend time with us. At the same time, I couldn't escape the feeling that we were considered more like novelties than friends. By the time our final night rolled around, we had over 50 kids show up to the "fiesta" that we had promised them. We had planned a variety of games and activities to pass the time, and everything went really well. It is challenging, though, keeping a group of kids that big under control when only two of us can communicate fluently with them.

We had saved a big bag of blown up balloons for the end to make swords, animals, and hats for the kids. They were beginning to get antsy so we ended our games and made the mistake of telling them that we were finishing with the balloons. Before we knew what was happening, all 50 kids stampeded toward that poor bag of balloons and dog piled on top of it. Unfortunately, balloons don't hold up very well under that kind of pressure. When we finally pulled all the kids off, there were only a few balloons left. The sad part about the whole thing was that we had way more than enough balloons for all them. We had one other bag of normal balloons that we still hadn't used, and Lauren thought it might be a good idea to distribute the few we had left. She was fighting for her life, however, as soon as the kids caught sight of them. We ended up dismissing all of them with nothing because of their poor behavior.

Working with kids is something I love to do. I love to be a role model and watching a child grow up right before your eyes is one of life's greatest blessings. When I start working with a group of kids, I can instantly pick out the ones I would like to mentor and form a close relationship with. I found those kids in Valle Guanape as well. This made it all the more frustrating that we had to end our time with them in that way, and it provoked all kinds of questions of what we could have and should have done to avoid it. The most discouraging part was realizing that we would be leaving in the morning, never to see these kids again, and there is still so much work to do.

As I was relating these thoughts during evaluation time, Lilibet encouraged me with 1 Corinthians 3:6-8. "I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The man who plants and the man who waters have one purpose, and each will be rewarded according to his own labor." All that really matters now that the week is over is what God has worked in the hearts of these little ones. And truth be told, all we were doing was continuing to "water the seeds" that someone else had sown. The only thing left for me to do is pray for the continued work of the Holy Spirit in their hearts. It was a good word and very valuable as I continue to pursue what God has for me in these last 6 weeks.
s.

Hay Agua!

-Lauren Yutzy

It’s almost 6, Vicki and I wander around the apartment with the water faucets turned on. The water had been turned off all day and when we found out a time that water would be turned on for only a half hour- everything else is dropped and our lives revolve around the coming of water. 6 rolls around and we hold our breath until 6:03 when the blessed sound of water comes rushing out of the faucets. The whole neighborhood celebrates together with shouts of Hay agua! (There is water!) Now that there is water the work starts: there is a sink full of dishes that need to be washed, a load of dirty laundry to do, water to boil for drinking water, the bucket in our bathroom to fill so that on mornings without water we can take a bucket bath, and showers to take if wanted. Vicki and I split up the duties and get started. I have never appreciated having running water at anytime like now. I think one of the best showers I have ever had was a cold bucket bath that I didn’t think I would get because I had missed all the times when the water was turned on and the only reason I got this one was because the water was left on past the time that it was supposed to be shut off. Water is a luxury that I didn’t realize I had in the US.

Prayer requests: continued bonding with the people at this church, patience with the language and different time management, and for sanity with all of the plans given to us without enough time to do them all.
thanks for reading! Dios te bendiga!

Cross-Cultural Understanding

By Irene Menendez:

That is very important for this trip, I think. I really believed I knew latin culture but now, I know it isn't true. I have lived with Latin people in Spain but it's not the same as living with them here, in a Latin country. Venezuelan society is hospitable, friendly, affectionate...but it is also chauvinistic and idolatrous too.

I realized we live in comfortable and preferencial countries. I don't say that for material comforts as much as for spiritual comforts. This country has a great pressure of the enemy. In the beginning I thought the people here were very spiritual people, but really they need to be like that because the enemy uses each little detail or neglect to have power over them. He uses traditions, ignorance, inheritances...We complain about our country because we think that being young is difficult because we can't do some things like other young people can and they see us as odd people if we are really Christians; but here...I think you know, most people believe in God, but there is a great step between believing in God and following Him. Here people don't see you as odd if you say you love Jesus. Here the problem is to have to live in a bubble because most of the society is contaminated with the enemy, and for that reason, parents try to overprotect their kids.


Really this is not the theme about which I wanted to speak, but I thought it was important. It is a new theme. Some conversations with people here were about that, and while they haven't persuaded me, they have opened my eyes about that. Our society is a equal society relatively. Women and men have the same rights and duties. The road in our society to be in this position was long and difficult, and through it we won some things, but we lost a lot of good things too. Here they continue to practice the custom that a woman finishes working when she gets married, and she is at home and with kids. Women have to submit to men but really they have power just not principal power. They have other good things like have more kids for family and women use to sit before.

This society is so different, and some people say it is backward, but I see it with respect even though some things I do not agree with. There are other good customs that we have lost and it only merits respect.

Oops

Anthony wrote about spiritual heritage.
Jon wrote about beisbol.

Spiritual Heritage

Spiritual Heritage

As I sit down to write this update, my mind is filled with many things I have learned or been challenged with during my short time in Venezuela. Not the least of which is the reality of one’s “spiritual heritage.” Sure, I’m familiar with the phrase, but I’ve never understood just how blessed I really have been, until now.
In Venezuela, the first questions asked when becoming acquainted with someone are not work related but deal with the family. This is the conversation I had the other night with a sister in the church after opening introductions. “Nice to meet you, Anthony. And your mom, is she a Christian?”
To which I responded with a rather complacent, “Yes, yes she is.”
I was slightly taken aback, then, when she gave a resounding, “Praise the Lord!” followed quickly by, “And your father, does he know the Lord?”
“Of course he does,” my head responded, but I managed to say, “Why, yes, he’s a Christian too,” my voice not anywhere close to matching her excitement level.
“Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins?” the questions came as quickly as I could answer them.
“Yes, yes, and yes. My whole family is Christian, and we have been for many years.” And then, partly for fun (to see her reaction) and partly because I couldn’t think of what I really wanted to say in Spanish, I said, “We’ve just been lucky I guess.”
Another lady who had been listening shot back, “No, you have not. You know that don’t you? God has blessed your family. Luck has nothing to do with it.”
Yes, I do know that, but do I believe it? Conversations like this have opened my eyes to how blessed I really am. Coming into a Latin American culture, I guessed that my most enviable quality (besides my brilliantly blue eyes) would be my Americanism. Not so. I have talked to an incredible number of people who are the only Christians in their family. Thus, their greatest desire and passion is for the souls of their spouses, children, and parents. That makes a family like mine seem like the ultimate gift.
I can’t help but feel a little guilty as I listen to these people share their longing for their family with me. Not because of what I have been blessed with, but because of my failure to appreciate that blessing. My “spiritual heritage” is all I have ever known, and, unfortunately, I have proceeded to take it for granted. Needless to say, my eyes have been forced open. I am thanking God for the family that I have been blessed with, and I pray that these brothers and sisters will one day be able to experience the same reality.

Beisbol

In a rare fit of creative blogging impulse... and because we just missed the superbowl... I´m going to tell you all about the fantastic sports event that I´m sure you all missed out on in the States: the Venezuelan World Series!!

First of all, there are eight teams here in Venezuela: the Tiburones (Sharks)from La Guaira, the Leones (Lions) from Caracas, Tigres (Tigers) from Aragua, Cardenales (Cardinals) from Lara, the Navegantes (Navigators) from Magallanes, Águilas (Eagles)from Zulia, Caribes (Caribs... a tribe from the Caribbean) from Anzoátegui, and Bravos (Braves) from Margarita. I only know of two people who aren´t Magallaneros (fans of the Magallanes) or Caraquistas (fans of Caracas). Pastor Ceferino is a Tiburones fan and Chino or Johnny who proposed to Gladys in front of the congregation is a Cardinales fan.

Second of all, they don´t call it the World Series because whoever wins the series goes on to play the winning-est teams from Mexico, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, and Venezuela. It´s just called the national baseball finals essentially. This year, the two final teams were the Leones (Lions) from Caracas and the Navegantes (Navigators) from Magallanes. These two teams are bitter rivals. It would be as if the Red Sox played the Yankees in the World Series except that practically no one supports any other teams here.

Third, It was all anyone would talk about for the first two weeks we were here, and whichever team won, the next day, fans of that team would dress up in their team´s jerseys, t-shirts, or ball caps. I´m talking everywhere, on the street, to school, to work, to church, everywhere. Hoo boy, and the night they won! Good grief. Gun fire, spontaneous parades of cars laying on their horns, stereo systems BLARING the theme songs (yes, there are various especially for Caracas)of whoever won. Keep in mind that these are all night games. It´s a party.

Fourth, the baseball vocab is fun... and easy. Homerun: homron. Inning: ining. Lots of words just spoken with a slightly tilted accent.

all for now. I¨m out of time.

First Sunday Service (1/17)

Due to the relative inaccessibility of internet, we’ve been unable thus far to regularly recount for you all our adventures here in Venezuela. BUT in an unprecedented Venezuela Team blog endeavor, we’re going to try to help you experience our first church service here at the Iglesia Evangélica Menonita Shalom… from five different points of view!!

Lauren: I can’t say that I’ve ever been to a church service quite like the one we had the first Sunday here in Venezuela. The service was complete with three organized dance groups, a mob of people swarming up front with their cell phones to take photos and videos, an engagement celebration, and people being slain in the spirit.

Jon: When Anthony and I entered the dusky, rectangular shaped sanctuary, we were seated in the place of honor in the front row of chairs along with a visiting pastor and his family from another part of Charallave. This was a little intimidating since I was supposed to stand up and introduce the team at some point in the service, and frankly, I felt a little presumptuous sitting there with this spiritual leader. I’m no pastor, nor do I know how to sound as florid in my church language as they do. I got the feeling they expect bigger things from us than we expect from ourselves.

Irene: The first Sunday here in this church, Vicki and Lauren slept over in the little apartment above the church where I’m living. For that reason we went down to the service at the exact hour that it started, and the pastor directed us to some seats in the first row in order to see everything and to be able to witness the first Sunday of the year (the first fruits service). We were separated from the guys, but I enjoyed it just the same.

Victoria: I remember being nearly dead to the world with dehydration and tiredness when the first worship service was going on, yet I was able to watch them with curious fascination and admiration through the curtains of my sleepiness.

Anthony: I’m not sure I’ve ever been to a service as varied and diverse as this one was. My emotions were all over the board from excited and ecstatic, to nervous and apprehensive, to bored and confused (lack of Spanish skills helped contribute to all three).

Irene: The service was rather varied. Owing to how open the service was spiritually, it reminded me of my church’s retreats together with other Spanish churches. Although I felt very at home with the music and enjoyed the dancers, as well as the pastor’s words, and the whole environment of the congregation surrendering to God, my mind was also on what my other team members thought about these things.

Jon: I was encouraged and put at ease, however, by the long worship time before the sermon. I had heard most of the songs the day before during their practice session, so I knew the tunes and was quickly able to put words to the notes thanks to powerpoint. Last year in Guatemala, we didn’t have hymnals or powerpoint to give us words which made identifying sung words nearly impossible even when they were singing Spanish and not Q’eqchi. Being able to participate in the songs that day just helped me so much to connect with the church body and enter into the service in general. So when they unexpectedly started singing “Eres Todopoderoso” which all of us know, it was as welcome a greeting as I could have asked for.


Jon: Unlike most Mennonite Churches that I’ve been in whether in the States, Belize, or Guatemala, the songs were accompanied by a dance team. They have three of them. One of the teams is just for little kids, one for the youth, which is a little more like modern dance, and one that’s just women and is more ballet like. All three teams synchronize their movements to the meaning of the words. It’s not scandalous; it’s worshipful. And it’s as integral to their church service as the music or preaching. As much as I enjoyed it, we were REALLY close to the dancers and with kids pressing in around us to see the dancers, it got hot and crowded up there. I suppose that’s the price of privileged seating.

Vicki: What most enthralled me was the twirling movements of the women dancing up in the front to praise Him against the background of the music, princesses of the Most High using their whole bodies to glorify Him, shining in their vestments with crowns on their heads. I would like to see a ministry like this flourish in every church door I step into.

Irene: Within the dancers, there were little children who gave a tone of innocence and provoked a smile from all who watched them. We were presented to the congregation and received a great welcome that filled my heart, and afterwards the brothers and sisters of the church came to greet us warmly.

Lauren: Despite it being so unusual I really enjoyed it. I loved seeing the passion and energy they had for God. My favorite parts were the worship and dancing. You didn’t need a dictionary to translate the joy and love for Christ on the faces of the dancers as they danced. It was beautiful to watch. It was also great seeing so many youth involved in the service.



Vicki: The service reminded me of the Jewish time of firstfruits. They worked hard to prepare for the service, putting up what looked like a tabernacle-shelter around the podium with palm branches from a palmera tree of green and orange, beautiful curtains, and other adornos (decorations). The congregation would lift and pray over objects such as jars of oil or water, bread (with one loaf shaped like a fish), the Venezuelan flag (red, blue, and yellow in color), and other items that represented the resources that the Lord has provided the country with. A person of each age group came up to the front to represent all people of their age group in the country, and everyone came up and gave a freewill money offering.



Irene: There are sisters in this church that really surrender themselves to God by cooking food to sell and collecting the money which is given to the church and moreover, they prepare the food given to the preacher’s family. This surprised me a lot.

Vicki: I did not realize, when all the dancers came up to the front and the pastor and his wife prayed over them, what was happening when a good number of them fell over. It is something I have seen on TV, but not in real life much, and so it was surreal and almost passed from my mind.

Anthony: At one point, all the women dancers went up to be prayed over by the pastor. He began praying over them in tongues and several of the dancers fell over, slain in the spirit, and began convulsing on the ground. My first thought was, “Oh no, what did we get ourselves into. I hope they don’t ask us up there and expect the same response.” I’ve never been entirely comfortable with the act of being slain in the spirit or tongues. Not so much because they scare me, but because both experiences can be easily faked and used counterproductively against the church. I was, then, of course, very relieved/excited when the youth went up for the same prayer time, but only a small percentage of them experienced the same thing. In other words, it’s not necessarily an expectation that the church has for its members. If it happens, great, and if not, no problem.




Anthony: What I probably enjoyed the most about the morning was the “Engagement.” A trio began singing a song about when Christ would come back to meet his bride. During the chorus, Chino and Gladys came walking from the back of the church to a rousing applause and stood in front of the congregation. A lady presented them with flowers and then Chino proposed and presented Gladys with the ring in front of us all. It felt more like a reception then an engagement announcement as different people talked about the couple and what they meant to them. It was a fun way to make the announcement, and very interactive for the congregation. That is definitely one thing I appreciate about the church, the laid back relaxed atmosphere.



Jon: After the pastor’s wife, who is also a pastor in the church, gave a moving sermon consecrating herself, the church, and all we have to God before the pastor, finally came my moment to introduce us. I was nervous, but I didn’t stutter, and they actually laughed at my impromptu joke about Irene’s name being Menendeth like she would say it in Spain rather than Menendez like they say it here. Overall, it went just fine. I needn’t have worried. Whether I would have spoken well or not, I’m sure the response to my introduction would have been the same: a rousing, heartfelt, “Welcome.”

Irene: Due to this agitated day and my living in the church’s little house, my “house” was invaded and for this reason, we girls went to buy something to eat with my older sister Yenni, Vicki and Lauren, and their sister, Noemi.

Irene: The whole of the service and the first encounter with the congregation enchanted me in spite of being disoriented and attentive to all that we could learn from the culture and the people.

Vicki: I wondered at all the faces around us, wondering whose face we would know in time, for the moment in disbelief that we were actually going to be here for more than a month. It was a beautiful first “culto” (service) with the congregation Menonita Shalom.

Lauren: This church is definitely alive, thriving and on fire for God. I’m excited to get to know these people more and to become part of this church!