Happy Birthdays

This is always a fun, busy month for our family with Edison's birthday on the 19th and Sophia's on the 24th. We had a lot of fun preparing for their parties; we made decorations and the kids picked themes they liked: for Edison-a 'fishy' birthday, and for Sophia-a princess one. I became a first-time pinata maker, which actually worked out nicely. I really love spending time with the kids doing creative things; when they see me getting out craft supplies they always ask, "What are we going to make?".
Above are Sophia's birthday party guests: Edison, Javiera (a ballet friend), Jasmine (a neighbor), Sofia (another neighbor), and Vicki (along with her parents Voni and Gigi, friends of ours). We had Polynesian meatballs, mini pizzas, and french truffles : ).

Below is a picture from Edison's party. The fishy theme extended to the cuisine, including cajun tuna spread on bread and salmon and dill canapes. Oh, and gummy sharks and octopuses! We had Gigi, Coni, Cole, and Vicki over and enjoyed watching Edison play with his new doctor kit, tool set, and racecars!

Both kids are growing so much; I just love being their mom. We start homeschool September 2nd and I ask your prayers that I'd do a good job teaching them. We're using Sonlight Curriculum and I'm really impressed with the books. For each day there are also ideas of activities to do that correspond to what they're learning; field trips, art projects, even baking! I'm pretty excited and a bit nervous!

Peace!

Thoughts Within the Brute

To My Most Amiable Readers,

Entering the bus which looked as though it had rolled down a few unforgiving slopes in its day, I braced myself for the lurch forward while I thumbed through my change for the driver. My cold fingers somehow grasped the itty-bitty receipt from his hand, and I surf-walked my way to a seat. Sliding into a row, the bus lurched and I banged my knee hard against the seats in front of me. Yowch!

Realizing from experience that I liked the view on the other side better, I hobbled myself to the other side of the bus and slid into an equally cold, hard seat and gazed out the fogged window. The bus, which I came to call the "Brute" in my inner dialogue, lurched and groaned its way through the darkening streets of Puerto Montt. If it ever had springs I'm sure they've since given up the fight. Some buses are nice, bright, shiny, new. Some are not, some festively not with lots of fringe trim around the front window, skeletons dangling from the rearview mirror which itself is decked out in stickers of the Holy Mother. This had no such attentions...ah, except one Tweety Bird sticker on the ceiling....The Brute (went my mind)...Birdy and the Brute. Such are the quality of my thoughts after a particularly punishing workout at rowing.

I had caught a festive brute on the way to rowing and got off, as is my habit, at the bread store about a 1/4 of a mile before the club. I get off there as it has an enormous speed bump in front of it which slows down traffic enough to make a safe crossing. Crossing safely I turn right and head up a slight hill, passing a fishing dock, a shack that smells to high heaven of 5-day old shellfish, and a huge green dumpster which hogs the sidewalk. Further up and I'm near my friend Yoya's house, and the family business of another rowing friend. By now I've received the honking compliments of quite a number of enthusiastic motorists; welcome to Latin America. I'd just listened to Coldplay on my mp3 player and the words "open up your eyes" were still going through my head as I took in the sights that have so long been normal for me.

The sidewalk is gradually dissolving, down to about 8 inches across at one point, crumbling down a slope toward a house nestled amongst trash and overgrown patches of grass. Most of the houses have tin siding, tin roofs, and a whole lot of mold and mildew. The houses are stained brown at the bottoms from all the rain splashing up. Some people lay down crushed seashells to keep the mud covered. I walk past the calm streetdogs that I've walked past for years. I walk past the "god house", the little doghouse type structures which people pray to their ancestors at and place candles within. I notice how the fake foliage some devotee has placed has turned odd colors over time. Then the vicious ankle-biters come running out of their yard. So much bravado in such little dogs. I yell "SALE!", no not sale like "shoes on sale, half price!", but sah-ley, Spanish for "GET!". They scurry then come back for round two, nearly getting me this time. I have to wonder where they get their rage from.

At rowing the trainer, Felipe, tells me that I need work on building up pain resistance. Oh happy happy joy joy. Apparently this is done by going through lots of pain. After jogging myself into a lather, he sits me down at the rowing machine and barks out orders: 15 hard fast strokes, 5 slow, 15 hard, 5 slow....etc. I literally think I'll throw up from the pain and burn in my muscles....and I'm a cross-country veteran...I know pain. Okay, so maybe I forgot.

About an hour of rowing machine behind me I felt like my back was going to hurt FOREVER. I sat and stretched on the pitted concrete floor, and bravely managed a smile for my torturer...er, trainer. I did it! He reminded me to go do the 100 sit-ups and push-ups. I think my smile faltered a bit then. We then had a discussion about demons, ghosts, and the power of Jesus' name. Felipe is a Christian, but doesn't know too much yet about God and the spiritual battle going on around us. I share as God gives me opportunity.

Finishing my work-out I signed out in the big, dusty rower's log and hefted my backpack onto my aching back and set out for the rest of my work. I'm helping my rowing friend Coni with her english, and her family business is just a bit up the road. We sit at the little table in the back of her family's business and go through pronunciation. The majority of english teachers in Chile don't know how to pronounce english; odd, no? Arriving at the store her mom tells me Coni is out, so we chat for a while and she tells me I'm a doll (she always fusses over my looks, and I admit that it buoys me a bit). Leaving with big kisses on my cheek, I head over to Yoya's gate. Going through it I descend down a steep slope on seashell pathways, willing my fatigued legs to match the uneven lay of the steps. I'm greeted by an array of dogs and cats and the sight of Yoya's home.

If I showed you a picture of it, you would likely pity her and her family. Irene, her mom, is the mother of seven, grandmother of two, and dear friend to me. Many of the childen still live at home. When I arrive I see that Irene's aged mother is visiting and I immediately wonder how on earth she navigates those steps. Welcomed with hugs and kisses into the kitchen/dining/living area, they offer me a warm stool by the woodstove. Laundry hangs to dry on a rack over the stove and I recognize Yoya's quirky hat. Yoya's sister fills a baby bottle with water from one of the huge aluminum teapots on the stove at all times. Little Vicente tottles toward me, his almond-shaped eyes sizing me up, his black hair shining in the dim light. Conversation flows. I almost fall off my stool amid much laughter. We air our woes, our happinesses; I painfully answer questions about the church. It was getting dark, time to go while I could still catch a brute. Lots of kisses and hugs and off I trudge, up the steps and onto the busy street.

Walking briskly amid much honking (the motorists get bolder as the sun goes down) I make my way back to the bread store where I reward myself with some broken underpants. Yes...calzones rotas...their name for sweet bread twists ; ), and some peach juice to wash it down. Then I wait for my brute.

I wonder if you'll enjoy this everyday bit of life. Maybe I want to paint a picture for you of what I mean when I say, "I'm involved in rowing...".

This, even this, is God's kingdom advancing where the devil has had his foothold too long. Please remember this work in prayer; our enemy is awfully busy.

Your Most Devoted, Sarah

Around These Parts

Reuben peeps out at the frosty world.
The kids and I makin some beautiful creations with homemade clay.
My crazy boys and one sweet Sophia.
I forgot to post this before; here's what we all look like these days, plus Dustin's sister Michelle, her husband Chris, and mom and dad. Ok, I should write more, but I just got home from rowing and am exhausted............!

Fredi and The Giant Pig Leg

To My Most Amiable Readers,

Here's our friend Fredi. Fredi lives up in the Cordillera (Andes Mtns.) and when he comes to Puerto Montt he often ends up at our door. He's a dear man and a good father to his two children. God did a miracle in his life. Once while a team of guys from the States was down here on a missions trip, one of the guys had a dream about a guy hanging himself in a tree. They were scheduled to leave the next day, but discerned together to make a quick trip up to the mountains to see if they could find the man before it was too late. They asked around to see if anyone knew of a man who was very depressed, they mentioned Fredi. His wife had just left him and their two children to be with his best friend. They were told where his house was, but couldn't find it. It was getting late and to catch the ferry back to the main road, they needed to leave immediately. That's when the tire went flat. The guys who needed to catch the plane got out and flagged down a passing bus and made it home, while Mike Hostetter stayed with his van and looked about him; clearly wondering what God was up to. Then he saw a man walking his way. He'd never met him before in his many trips. He called out, "Fredi!"

The man was rather astonished and asked how he knew his name. Mike shared the dream and asked if the man was him. Fredi broke down and told how he was thinking about killing himself and his two children in his immense pain. Instead, he gave his life to the Lord : ).

Fredi and his children continue to grow in the Lord and are full of joy.

So, Fredi knocks on our door last week and we invite him in for cafecito (coffee or tea and bread). We have a nice visit together and in the course of things he asks Dustin if we'd like to buy some meat. Apparently they'd just slaughtered a pig at his sister's house in town. Dustin agrees. About a half an hour later he returns with a heavy-looking dirty tarpauline bag. He swings it up on to the dining room table and pulls out...A PIG LEG! It makes a dull WHUMP! as he sets it directly on the table. As I stand quite amazed (I would LOVE to see video of my face at that moment), he pulls out a little scale that hooks into the thick skin and lifts the leg high, showing me the weight. Whipping out his cell phone he does some quick math, I pass him the money, thank him profusely all the while thinking "There's a pig leg on my table, there's a PIG LEG on my table...."

As Fredi left and I was alone with the pig leg, I had some disjointed thoughts going round my head. Here are a few: 1) I'm going to throw up, 2) DUSTIN! 3) HAHAHAHA! 4) I wonder who I could call to come over here and help me butcher this thing? 5) Ha ha ha ha heeee! 6) I'm finally a true missionary. 7) I'm going to sniff it, if it doesn't smell rotten I'm going to have to give it a chance. 8) Shoot! It doesn't smell!

I admit it. It drove me to prayer. It was a silly prayer, "Lord, please help me to make sense out of this hunk of meat. Help me not make a complete mess of it". But God heard it, and about an hour later I had cut two pork roasts and about six pounds of cubed pork that will be turned into curry dishes. I roasted the bones for Sheba, our black lab. And the enormous slab of thick skin and fat? Well...that went in the trash...I know....I know...could've been some pork rinds there, but I was never a fan of those, and besides, I'd been through enough that day ; ).

I'm actually going to throw in a tidy lesson: God hears. Whether it be our pain of a broken relationship or the fright of a massive pig leg on our table. He hears and He comes and He rescues. Praise be to God!

Your Most Devoted, Sarah

Thank You

To My Most Amiable Readers;

Thank you for your prayers. These last few days have been pretty incredible. We've met with pretty much everyone involved and heard their stories; praying with them and offering here and there the "word in season". Obedient to sound counsel, we've refrained from trying to "repair" the church. In a vigilia (night vigil) the other night we remained silent while the Spirit moved within the group. One by one they began confessing their sins one to another, asking forgiveness and extending it. When asked what lay on my heart as a need, I offered that I needed to worship God with fellow believers-that I couldn't minister to the lost without having the family of God to encourage me, pray for me, and hold me accountable. I know God will provide that; whether it is with them as a new emergent fellowship is between them and the Lord. We are willing to walk with them as brothers and sisters if they should choose to walk as a Chilean church.

Tonight we heard the pain and frustration of another family. We love them so much and it pained us deeply to see them so hurt and perplexed. After many tears and talking, we came to a place of joy; that God was leading us to work together in a new way. Though this does not involve what I'll call for the moment "the remnant" (the aforementioned group), we believe that this is right. I wish I could be more specific, but these are our beloved friends and these issues are not for public airing. Know that we feel God's peace in this new direction of his Kingdom expanding here in Puerto Montt.

Splits are terribly wounding, but new life and purpose can come from the wreckage. Please continue to pray that God's Kingdom would advance with power in this place; among these groups we have the honor of working with. Please pray that all grievances would be put in the light in an honorable way; and that God would strengthen the Chileans in forgiveness and love.

Your Most Devoted, Sarah

P.S. Keep praying!!!! Please!!!

Walking Thus

To My Most Amiable Readers;

We've been here all of a week, and have been in conversation. Part pain, part hope. It overjoys us to just be with these people whom we love, and it pains us to see bitterness/pain/frustration boiling in their eyes as they speak about others in the church. I can't express how conflicted this leaves me.

The beautiful thing is that we're going to worship on Sunday with two of the families in one of their homes. I crave to go to Him who can help with them by my side. Tonight we're going with one of the other families to their small group they're leading with unbelievers. Tomorrow we're attending a vigilia (night prayer vigil) with another family; specifically praying for the church. Interestingly enough, I showed my art from my last post to one of the men in the church and he looked at it intensely and told me that he had had a dream that looked very much like the picture I drew. In it the men are represented by the orange figure, the women by the red, and the children by the pink. We all soberly agreed that church splits tend to alienate the children, who feel like one less thing in this world is secure. I expressed this by drawing the child figure half out of the picture; nearly forgotten.

So here we walk. We ask that you pray for the Chileans, that love and forgiveness and forbearance would grow in them to such an extent that healing can be made.

Your Most Devoted, Sarah

"Church Split"

Great Expectations

To My Most Amiable Readers,

When we left Chile for the States we had a host of great expectations. The church had passed completely into Chilean hands, and we were buoyant (the job of the missionary is to make their job unnecessary), thinking of all the extra time we would have to focus outwards; to our neighbors, friends, rowing youth, and the families in the mountains. We felt that we had contributed through the Holy Spirit's leading to the unity, cohesion, and organization of the local church, leaving behind an empowered national church, which we could stand with and invite our un-churched friends to, not to mention receive our spiritual refreshment and encouragement from.

I am currently reading Dicken's "Great Expectations". In it young Pip, a blacksmith's son, arises from his circumstances through the favor of a mysterious benefactor. I am watching as he grows to disdain the "commonness" of his former life and adapts his self image to his new "expectations". I am only half-way through, so if you know the ending, don't betray it.

We had great expectations. Roughly a week before we returned to Chile we were notified that the church had split. And this not neatly between two factions...but totally dissolved. We were at a complete loss. What had been expectation quickly turned to dread. We love every person involved in the church; we've cried and worshiped and laughed with them. Now they are fragmented, some claiming total innocence, some accusing others, some blind to their sins against others, some siding with this family or that, some walking in outright bitterness. Their accounts differ so widely that I feel as though I am constantly trying to make out who is lying. But to what use?

I am not up to this task. Pip, in my story, would have just received notice from his benefactress that henceforth he is summarily dropped from the will, all his education and instruction meant to carry him through his new genteel life was all for nothing, and rather a waste of time. Now he'll have to put his pansy hands through torture back at the forge...regaining his calluses one by one.

Our Chile team has counseled us to simply love each person involved and support them in any way needed; caring for the broken body piece by piece. This is hard to do when the ear starts slandering the eye, and the foot bids "outta my face" to the shoulder. I can't stand to see people I love tearing each other apart; especially in flowery spiritual ways: "So and so's such a lovely, wonderful person, BUT......"

The oddity of it all is having my neighbors ask how the church is doing. Uh.....

What a excellent witness.

Please pray for the broken body here; pray for reconciliation, forgiveness, and redemption.

Your Most Tired,
Sarah

Surgery Update

Hey everyone,

According to the check-up today, the surgery successfully corrected Sophia's alignment! She'll wear the glasses for a couple of years yet, but she'll gradually outgrow them as her eyes get stronger and more able to hold correct position on their own. Without the surgery she never would have been able to do this. Thanks SO much for all of your encouragement, visits, cards, and flowers!

Blessings!
Sarah Gingrich ; D

Little Miss Blue Eyes

Sophia, right before operation.
Drugged up and ready to go!
Heading to surgery in a cheerful wagon, surrounded by pillows. Her doctor is the one on the right.

To My Most Amiable Readers,

Yesterday Sophia had surgery in both eyes; to relax muscles in each so that her eyes could align correctly. We had tried almost 2 years of patching and glasses and it was determined that her alignment issue could not be successfully treated that way. As many of you know, the treatment she was receiving in Chile was actually harming her vision due to out-of-date/unsound practice. Since receiving treatment in the States her vision has returned to 20/20, for which we are so grateful!

Yesterday she had to fast beforehand (a difficult thing to explain to a small child who wants breakfast!). We went in around one and they gave her a pink drink to put her to sleep. The half hour till it took full effect was pretty...hmmm, interesting. She got really, really loopy. Slurred speech, eratic movement, silly giggling. Basically she looked and acted drunk! Towards the end she started getting angry and irritable, which is about when they take them in. Because she was so tipsy they opted for a kiddy wagon lined with pillows to transport her to the operating room instead of a wheelchair. She clutched a little giraffe that her Great Great Aunt Mary, who has volunteered at the hospital for years, gave her. And off she went. I was okay until they went through the doors. Seeing the doors close behind her and knowing I was absolutely powerless to help her or comfort her was very hard.

Ten minutes later as we were sitting in the waiting area, the anesthesiologist came out and told us that she had them laughing in her last coherent minutes. They had put her in the operating room when all of a sudden she exclaims, 'OH NO!'. Dramatic pause. Everyone looking at her. 'My barrettes! My barrettes are all gone!' she exclaimed while patting her head confusedly. They made sure she could feel that her barrette was still on under her surgical cap.

About an hour and a half later we were guided back to her recovery room where she lay crying in the lap of a nurse. It totally broke my heart. I took her in my arms as she cried, 'Mommy, help me! Mommy, my eyes hurt!' over and over. Any time she tried to open her eyes, she closed them again with a cry of pain and thrashed about. I had to restrain her from rubbing her eyes and had to hold her down while they put drops in them. Again, totally powerless to help her. I just held her, alternately singing or praying or just saying 'It'll be okay.'

Arriving home, about all we could do for her is put on cartoons or cd's for her to listen to and hold her. She prefers to keep her eyes shut as the light hurts. Fortunately we're in a basement suite so it's not too bright. She slept well last night in my bed (Dustin is away for a few days). In fact I had all 3 of my children in my room, Reuben in the crib, Sophia in my bed, and Edison on a mattress on the floor (he had awoken many times during the night so I just moved him in with us). Thanks for your prayers; we certainly enjoyed sweet rest. Today Sophia is not complaining overly much of pain, but still likes to keep her eyes closed. It's basically like having a blind child all of a sudden as I need to lead her to the bathroom, help her eat and so forth. She likes to have cold washcloths on her eyes for pain relief and cartoons are such a blessing right now. Please continue in prayer for her as she recovers. We'll know more about the success of the surgery at her one week check-up.

Your Most Devoted, Sarah

This Side of the Whirlwind

Plaza, North Dakota; family farm

So it's been a while...

I trust I'm pardoned? I tried three times to post something coherent and failed...sat staring at the screen; benumbed by near-constant activity...flying, driving, swimming, walking, packing, unpacking, repacking, washing washing washing clothes and packing them up again. Two ear infections for the kiddos. Intestinal distress for Dustin. A two-week trip to Montana with a four day road trip to North Dakota to see extended family thrown in. Lots of medical visits. Lots of shots. A week-long trip to Florida, running the gamut of Disney, Wet and Wild water park, and Cocoa Beach {too fun for words all of it, not complaining here}. But I am, alas, tired. And the craziness isn't over yet. This week is pre-op visits for Sophia and on Friday her eye operation. Directly after that Dustin leaves for a race down south with some guy friends. Then post-op visits, remaining mission board meetings, another trip to the beach, then pack pack pack for Chile and the 24 hour time period it takes to reach our home there.

Downtown Disney, Orlando FL

Cocoa Beach, Orlando, FL

I'm sorry I haven't communicated. Honestly I didn't have the strength. A lot of beautiful things happened. One of my favorites was driving my nearly-blind great aunt Mae around her small town in North Dakota in her golf cart. What was going to be "just around the block" to "teach me how to drive one" turned out to be an hour-long drive around town, stopping here and there and visiting with people who were somehow related to me, or know my parents, or just happened to wish to chat with two ladies cruising in a golf cart. Mae is going blind; ending her life-long love of reading and is bored, so so bored. Her laughter and smiles were a gift to both of us.

While in Montana we went to my family's cabin on the Dearborn River (pictured below). This is our land....beautiful, wild, peaceful land. The river was my great delight as a child; it snakes through our land leaving prime swimming holes in its wake, which, when frozen over gave us decent ice for hockey and figure skating. Sophia and Edison loved the Mud Kitchen where they served up some "birthday cakes" complete with pine cones atop and plenty of flour for decor. Dad and I walked the land, hoping to stumble upon another hide scraper left from tribes who passed through the area. No scraper, but plenty of silent accord as we walked the land we love. It is a hard place to say goodbye to.

In Florida we enjoyed time with Dustin's parents, and his sister Michelle and her Australian husband Chris who are visiting from Beijing. The memories made at the water park will make us all smile for a long time (four person rides rock!).

That's all I can say for now. A few things, beautiful to me.

Begging Your Pardon

To My Most Amiable Readers....

Inhibited by time restraints, excessive travel, and the necessity of sleep, this blog has regrettably stagnated. My apologies. So much has passed that I fear putting the pen to paper, so to speak, in fear that I'll find myself twenty pages deep and only approaching the half of things.

So this is a post that I post about why I cannot and have not posted. I trust you have the grace within you to pardon me for now and the faith within you to keep checking; I'm bound to mend it and soon.

Your Most Devoted,
Sarah

Us

Life In Little Kidville

Guest Author: Edison James Gingrich

So, here's me and my friend Eliana. She's only ten months old but man can she yell good. She's pretty fast too (hence, the blur). She already discovered my potty. She comes over with her two brothers, Zachary and Ethan, and they bring their parents along. Mommy and Daddy laugh long and hard whenever they get together with them and they play odd games on the table which we're not allowed to mess with. How fun it would be to throw a ball in the middle of their intricate boardgames! Sigh....

This is my little brother, Reuben. I like to give him kisses and get very upset when I can't see him on demand. He's pretty happy most of the time. Pretty bald too. He has an enormous dimpled bottom. Mommy calls it cell you light, or something like that. Him and I are in the same size diapers now. Yes, I still wear them. Is that a problem? Sometimes I tell Mommy and Daddy that I need to use the potty just so that I can make them sit on the bathroom floor and listen to me talk on and on.

There's my sister Sophia. She's a trip. She has to wear glasses and patches to help her eyes, but she doesn't complain at all, and I think that's pretty cool. We love each other a lot. The other day we made chocolate molded candies together as a gift for our Grandma Gingrich. We sure love her!

We're meeting new friends and old friends that I guess we forgot about. We're going to lots of parks with fun toys to play on and we get to play with other kids who speak English! It's fun too to have Mommy and Daddy around a lot, as they're on something they call "Fur Low". I don't know what exactly they do on Fur High. Anyways, I'd better go take my nap now.
Yours Truly, Edison James Gingrich I

Home?

To My Most Amiable Readers.....
One phrase as of late has completely lost its usefulness for us. Home. We talk of going "back home" to Chile...people ask us how it is being "home" again (in Pennsylvania). Family "back home" in Montana ask when we're coming "home". Well, "home" for the moment is this lovely home above; Dustin's cousin Rod and his wife Sherry's farmhouse. We live in the basement suite (not our first in our nomadic life, but certainly the nicest). Ammenities include but are not limited to: a garbage disposal (never had one and am admittedly fascinated with and frightened by it), a dishwasher (I am in astonishment at how much of my time is NOT spent doing dishes), an ice and water dispenser on the refrigerator door (I am drinking like a camel and not ashamed; how tasty, how easy!), and a lighted well covered by thick plexiglass that you can stand on top of and get the willies, any time of day.

Above all, though, the kids are quite taken with the increment snowfall. Yes, we get snow in Chile, but not in Puerto Montt, on the Andes behind us. So, they say things like, "Wow! Mommy, it's snowing!!! (pause) Is it Christmas?"(ideas picked up from books, as Christmas in Chile is watermelon, sun, swimming, beach time). No matter how little the remaining mounds of snow are, Sophia just MUST jump on it a bit before she'll go in. Here we are enjoying the kids' first snow experience. For you fashionistas out there (I mean you Pavel), yes, I happen to think mustard mittens go quite nicely with a pink coat, thank you very much.

So, Reuben was basically immobile and such being the case was sent solo down the hill in this disc with Mommy running behind melodramatically crying, "MY BABY! MY BABY!". Too bad that the snow wasn't a bit deeper; Sophia's first ever snow angel ended up being a "grass angel" once formed ; ). Maybe this is the only way some of us will wake up about global warming...when we feel glad to be able to make tiny snowmen and sled on an inch of snow....I digress..so..."home"...what a concept. To those who have one, I am glad for you, and thank you for the hospitality you've extended through it. For those who don't, I understand you; let's continue in the adventure of the nomadic life with all the lessons and blessings it brings
Good day!
Your Most Devoted, Sarah.

Mexico! Parte Dos!

Our next big excursion was to Xcaret Park which featured...well, just tons of stuff. Ricky and Megan, Mike and Michele, Dustin, and I all snorkeled through an underground river (so fun!) together while Mom and Dad kept all 6 grandkids! At the end the river opened up to the ocean and there were gorgeous fish everywhere!

My sister and I also had the once in lifetime experience of swimming with a dolphin! Here the dolphin is racing at top speed around our group. They're so strong!! It felt like we were in a washing machine!

Here's Michele and I "dancing" with the dolphin ; ). Below is a baby spider monkey. The kids so enjoyed seeing all the wildlife! Thanks again Mom and Dad!!! What a trip!

Mexico!

Here are very brief glimpses of our recent adventures in Mexico with my family. Based out of Cancun, we explored the Mayan ruins of Chitchen Itza, pictured here.

Below is the observatory, which still stuns modern astromomists with its accuracy. This was the only ruin which was still permitable to climb, and that only to a certain point. We had such a great time viewing this site which rambles in and out of jungle, and even got a thorough tropical soaking which left us looking (and probably smelling) like drowned rats : ).

Speak English!

To My Most Amiable Readers;

Good heavens it's hard to stop thinking and speaking in Spanish. And here for three years we've been training ourselves to do that very thing....que lata...I mean, what a pain! Aaaahhh! So, we arrived yesterday after over two years in Chile...over 24 hours in travel....with three little ones under the age of 5....three different flights. Here's some of our trip highlights:
-In Puerto Montt before boarding our first flight Dustin got in an animated discussion in Spanish with a airline representative about luggage restrictions. I blushed a lot and walked away to pray with the kids that Daddy would calm down. Dustin felt invigorated...especially because he won.
-Arriving in boiling-hot Santiago, we "patiently" (har har) waited in a line for 3 hours for the Delta counter to open, me trying to keep my unruly little ones from running head-long into passers-by. We had interesting discussions with a brit named Mike who was returning from his fourth expedition to the South Pole. I showed my ignorance by asking if he saw any polar bears. Apparently polar bears are in the Arctic, not the Antarctic (so now we know; aren't you glad to have learned that?). He was half-amused, half-unnerved that Edison took an immediate liking to him and wrapped him in a tight toddler hug. We had to explain that our kids are used to giving and receiving affection from even strangers (they're so Chilean!). Even I have to resist kissing people upon introduction...I feel so awkward just standing there saying "nice to meet you".
-Flying from Santiago to Atlanta, Sophia made many friends on the plane...everyone she meets she views as a potential friend, whether they are 4 years old or eighty. Reuben and Sophia slept through the bulk of the flight, but Edison couldn't quite fall deeply asleep in the seat...waking every hour or so crying. I was so bleary eyed and cranky from lack of sleep that I layed myself down on the floor, where I promptly conked out for about 20 min...till the stewardess woke me and explained something about getting sued, no seat belt on the floor....in other words, get up. In my foggy mind I wanted to lash out that seat belts don't help anything if a plane crashes but wisely just sat in my seat and waited for Edison to cry out again. I was deeply confused when they served breakfast at 6, thinking the clock must be off or something as it was so dark out still. Ah, right, it's winter in the north. Back in Puerto Montt it was light from around six till around ten at night. All through the long lines in customs my little ones made "friends" and in general enjoyed the amused attention they received.
-Leaving Atlanta for Baltimore, I was mentally bombarded with all the English speaking going on. In Chile I can tune out Spanish conversations fairly easily, but English, no. To make matters worse I can't remember not to respond in Spanish. I spoke to an american flight attendant in Spanish and she just looked at me, rightfully so. I was also feeling very VERY short. I've lived in Latin American countries for three years now and have gotten used to being rather tall beside others.
-Arriving in Baltimore, we were glad to see Dustin's parents, and Sophia and Edison enjoyed m&m's from Grandma, which they promptly spilled all over the floor while we waited for our luggage. We only lost one suitcase, which would arrive later on. On the way home we stopped at Isaac's, our favorite sandwich joint and enjoyed REAL pickles. Chilean pickles are just veggies soaked in vinegar and are quite bitter. More m&m's were spilt. I was overwhelmed that they kept refilling my drink (a phenomenon unknown in most of the world), as I have learned over the years to carefully budget my drink to last the whole meal.
-Arriving at Dustin's parent's house, Dustin hot-tubbed his day away and we settled in for a wonderful no-frills evening...watching tv...in English! Marian turned it to a spanish channel for kicks and giggles, but I didn't notice as I understood everything! That was good for laughs.

Alright...so, we're here, thanks for the prayers...
Your Most Devoted, Sarah

My Wee Ones