Foot Washing

There is a lot of foot washing in the Bible; e.g., Jesus washed the feet of the disciples and Mary washed Jesus' feet with her hair (Jn 12:3). In Costa Rica, everybody wears sandals and nobody has carpet (the floors are tile, concret or just dirt). It's really opened my eyes to the culture of the New Testament. Here are two spiritually profound thoughts:

1) When you don't have carpet, your feet get really dirty.

2) Sandles make your feet stink.

Here's a picture of Willy's feet--dirty and stinky. We wash these ten little toes multiple times per day; nontheless, when Willy climbs up on the couch with us to read a book or watch a little TV, the smell is strong enough to knock over a moose. At the last supper, the disciples were lying on the floor, eating dinner. That means that someone's feet were really close to someone else's nose. But, nobody would lower themselves to do the dirty work--until Jesus did it (Jn 13:5-9). I love Peter's response:

Jn 13:5 After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.
Jn 13:6 He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”
Jn 13:7 Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”
Jn 13:8 “No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.” Jn 13:9 “Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!”

Prayer Request & thoughts about "no pain, no gain."

We’ve had a very difficult time figuring out what church to attend, here in Costa Rica. The biggest problem is that the kids don’t like any church. There are two churches currently in contention. One is a mega church that’s right behind our house. The people are very nice and the worship is awesome. But the church has strict guidelines on who can do ministry, as such we wouldn’t likely get opportunities to practice ministering amongst Latinos. The second church is smaller and more humble—in a neighborhood called “the forgotten.” Unfortunately, it’s not close. It costs us about $20 in cab fare to get there and home again. This was the church we attended yesterday. While we were there, I asked the Lord for a word about which church to attend. I felt the Spirit challenge me to fast and pray for three days, in order to hear the Lord’s voice on this subject. I told the Lord that I really didn’t want to fast for three days. He challenged me with Paul’s admonition in 2 Tim 2:3-4, “Endure hardship with us like a good soldier of Christ Jesus. No one serving as a soldier gets involved in civilian affairs—he wants to please his commanding officer.” I felt the Spirit challenge me to train like a soldier and to grow up. I definitely desire to please myself more than my commanding officer (Jesus).The problem is that I am pain averse. I eschew vigorous exercise or activities that require painful effort. I’m basically a pleasure seeker. I know that a meaningful life involves overcoming challenges and some hard work and I willingly accept this—up to a point. The problem is when the Lord wants me to take on a greater degree of challenge than I’m used to. I sometimes operate out of a mindset that I can punch a time card with the Lord; e.g., that after Sunday morning church obligations, I can spend the rest of the day watching T.V. I already fast on a regular basis and like to think that I shouldn’t have to do any more than what I’m already doing. This is a great discipline, but it precludes further growth. I want to grow in a theoretical sense. It’s a different story when that growth requires sacrifice. There is a scriptural principal that is important for maturity and joy in the Christian life, it is that we have the right to give up rights for the sake of the kingdom—including the right to eat whatever or whenever we want. (Paul taught this principle in 1 Cor. 8:4-9:27, saying that we must willingly give up the right to do anything that would cause another to stumble. Paul then uses himself as an example, saying that the other apostles made their living from the Gospel, but that he exercised his right to give up this right, to avoid putting a stumbling block between himself and those he ministered to.) When Lena and I gave up the right to drink alcohol, it caused some social discomfort among our Roman Catholic families; but after a couple of months it wasn’t an issue any longer. Now, there are times when I miss the romantic ambiance of a glass of wine; but the real cost of giving up alcohol in my life has been nil. It’s not a painful sacrifice for the Lord. The truth is that when we give up something for the Lord, the reward is always greater than the cost. (In the Corinthians passage mentioned above, Paul says, “I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings.” I Cor. 9:23) As such, when I fast, I keep reminding myself that it’s not forever and to be patient—good food and spiritual blessings are imminent.

I want to ask my friends who read this, to pray with us about what church to attend and about hearing God's voice as a general attribute of our spiritual lives. I don’t just want to hear once. I want to hear constantly, to discern what God is saying and what is from the flesh. I want to partner with the Holy Spirit in what He is doing. There is a tendency, especially for North Americans, to tell the Lord what we’re going to do for Him. Then we pray that He blesses our plans. I want to hear His voice and do what He says to do, with certainty, every day. I want to grow up in the Lord, hear His voice, and see the kingdom advance powerfully.

To dream the impossible dream...

I have a friend who is a psychology professor at a prominent university. It is a dream job and, to make it even better, he was recently granted tenure. That means, he can have the job for life--as long as he doesn't commit some horrible crime. So, now that he's got a guaranteed job, he's thinking of moving. This proves what we already know: Americans hate feeling fenced in. I know the feeling. I hear of guys my age who are close to retirement and I think that would be great. Then I remember that staying put means giving up other dreams--like moving your family to South America and studying a new language while doing a doctorate. I don't want to think that I've already accomplished the best accomplishments of my life. I like to dream of discipling more college students, walking alongside younger pastors and educating starving children in Peru. I have more life to live, which necessitates pursuing dreams.




It's good that we're moving to South America, because I want to go down like Don Quixote.

Here are the words to one of my favorite songs. Even as I write this, the words of this song bring tears to my eyes:

To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go

To right the unrightable wrong
To love pure and chaste from afar
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star

This is my quest to follow that star
No matter how hopeless, no matter how far
To fight for the right without question or pause
To be willing to march into Hell for a heavenly cause

And I know if I'll only be true to this glorious quest
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm when I'm laid to my rest
And the world will be better for this
That one man, scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star



("The Impossible Dream" from MAN OF LA MANCHA (1972). Music by Mitch Leigh and lyrics by Joe Darion)

P.S. What's my impossible dream? I believe that by preaching the Gospel, I can transform a country of starving children, deranged terrorists and corrupt politicians. The Apostle Paul wrote: "For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe." (1Co 1:21)

Like the dickens!

I recently received an email from an old friend. He wrote, "Love ya like the dickens!" When I first read it, I thought he wrote, "Love ya like the chickens." This is the kind of misunderstanding I have about 100 times per day, while trying to speak Spanish. The conversation goes like this:

Bill: You love chickens?

Spanish Speaker #1 (SS1): Not chickens, dickens!

Bill: Charles Dickens? I think the Muppet's version of a Christmas Carol is one of their best movies. Having Rizo the Rat as one of the narrators is really funny.

SS1: No, no, no! It doesn't have anything to do with Charles Dickens. "Like the dickens" is a phrase meaning "a lot!"

Bill: A parking lot?

SS1: No, a lot is a reference to quantity. Like the dickens means "a bunch" or "much."

Later that day:

Spanish Speaker #2: How much cream do you take in your coffee?

Bill: Dickens, Gracias!

Temptation & Trust

My brother just bought a new motorcycle and my mom is considering buying a new motor home. I looked at pictures of the motor home my mom wants to buy. The web site had some really lovely campers. I began to wish I had one too. Then I thought of my brother's new motorcycle and my heart started going there too. The desire for the camper and the motor cycle started to rob me of joy.

Every morning, I have devotions with the kids. Currently, we’re reading through the Gospel of Luke, which focuses heavily on God's heart towards the poor. I read that we are to store our treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. That’s a great saying, because it implies that one way to steer your heart, is through your treasure. Another similar passage, that’s in the same area, has to do with what you feed your eyes. The camper web site filled me with a mild form of camper lust. Immediately, I was a little less happy. I must again pray and fantasize about the things of the kingdom, see them in my mind’s eye and long for that fruit. If I do, I’ll have all the campers or scooters that I’ll ever need—which very well may be none.

Here's the words to my favorite hymn:
I’d rather have Jesus than silver or gold
I’d rather have his love than have riches untold
I’d rather have Jesus than houses or lands
I’d rather be held by his nail pierced hands
Than to be the king of a vast domain
And be held in sin’s dread ways
I’d rather have Jesus than anything
This world affords (offers) today.

1/3 down, 2/3 to go...

Today marks the end of our first trimester, so we’re 1/3 of the way through. It’s been an interesting three months—filled with victories and some really painful challenges. All in all, I think we’re growing well. I took an oral exam recently, which said that I was now at the level where I can talk about the weather to a person who is experienced talking to foreigners.

Costa Rica's State Bird

The state bird of Costa Rica could easily be the Mosquito. They swarm here and there are numerous public warnings about the dangers of dengue fever. We've had swarms of them in our apartment. We use little heated boards of insecticide to keep them out of the bedrooms. Nonetheless, Abi (our 2 year old daughter) was getting eaten alive at night. We now put her in winter pajamas, so her legs and arms are covered. I went on a mosquito killing rampage, clapping my hands to smash them in the air. I promised the kids valuable prizes for every palm presented to me with the bloody guts of a mosquito on it. Then I noted that the Mosquitoes often congregate at a window (especially in the mornings). So, I started spraying them with a bug spray. There were two problems with that: One was that the breeze would blow the spray back into the room (and my face). I was concerned about all of us breathing that stuff. Two, it left a mess on the window. Then I had a great idea (which I think was God’s answer to my prayer for a solution). Instead of bug spray, I now use Windex with Ammonia-D. (The dad in “My big fat Greek wedding” was right!) The Windex kills them, glues them to the window or screen and doesn’t streak! With a quick wipe of a paper towel, you get rid of the mosquitoes and leaves a wonderful shine! Since I started using the Windex, we’ve gone from 100 mosquitoes in the house, to 2 or 3. I thank God for Ammonia-D.

Monkey See...

Holy Week is a serious holiday time in Costa Rica. I can't remember when I've seen a major city shut down before, but this one did. On Good Friday, the entire city was a ghost town. It was nice seeing a major population center take a break. Colton asked why the U.S. doesn't do the same. I had to explain that in the U.S., people are more concerned with making and spending money than with remembering why we have holidays--especially religious holidays. Consequently, when people get a day off, they go shopping.

I rented a van for our week of vacation and really loved driving again. We spent three days at Arenal (pictured in the stamp) and saw monkeys (pictured at left) and other cool animals. We had a wonderful walk through the rain forest jungle. A couple days later, we went to another volcano (Irazu, pictured below). This one allowed us to drive up to the crater. The drive was really beautiful. As we scaled higher and higher, we passed through two layers of clouds. It's pretty fun, seeing the clouds below you. The picture at left is the crater.

Closer to Heaven

My apologies to my blog-reading-buddies for the long delay between entries!

Today is my 46th birthday. I’ve been pondering the fact that I’m now closer to the age of 90 than I am to my birth. I don’t have a lot of deep reflections about turning the uninspiring age of 46. I’m reminded of my age every time I walk in the sun, because the top of my head gets sunburned really easy. That never happened when I was 26 and had a lot more hair. I am relieved to be able to say that we’re living for the Lord with purpose. It’s sweet to know that the Lord has a calling for us and that we’re on an adventure. I’d rather be 46 on a blessed adventure than be 26 and absorbed in a vain pursuit of entertainment. I’m closer to heaven today and I’m getting closer everyday—both in age and in my love for the Lord.

The picture of the compass in my hand is from last weekend's survival training camp in the jungle. We had to learn how to navigate with a compass. I thought it was an apt picture for one of the great themes of my life--navigating through life via the compass of the Word and the voice of the Holy Spirit.

God's Provision #3

Last weekend, the men at the language school went on a retreat where we learned survival skills. (We were at the world famous Royal Ranger Campground!) We had to build a shelter in the jungle and sleep in it over night. Here's a picture of me in the shelter I built with my survival buddy Nicky Ryder. We got to sleep about 1:00 AM. At 4:30 AM the rain came. There's a reason why they call it a "Rain Forest." It was a great experience. I had diarrhea for three days before we went, so I was already weak. The diarrhea continued during the weekend, but God had a provision for me that was nothing less than a miracle. I didn't have diarrhea in the jungle. I didn't have to wipe with a poisonous leaf. On Sunday morning, we ate breakfast near some cabins with bathrooms! But not only was there a pleasant, clean toilet--it had toilet paper! As I utilized the facilities, I was shouting praises.

2 Stories of God's provision

Our lives here are very full. We’re up at 6:00 AM and I frequently go to bed at Midnight—after having studied Spanish for many hours. Even though we’re having regular devotional times, I haven’t received a direct word from the Lord for what felt like a long time.

2 months ago, my family mailed me a package from the states. It didn’t arrive and we all assumed that it had been stolen. Yesterday (the day before my birthday), the package was delivered. Nobody knows where it’s been or why it’s been missing for two months. When it arrived I got two gifts, because the Lord spoke to me. God reminded me of Daniel praying for three weeks. In chapter 10 of the book of Daniel, the prophet received a vision that really disturbed him—so he prayed until the Lord gave him the interpretation of the vision. The interpretation came through a divine visitation by a person who appears to be Jesus. In 10:12-13 he says to Daniel, “Do not be afraid, Daniel. Since the first day that you set your mind to gain understanding and to humble yourself before your God, your words were heard, and I have come in response to them. But the prince of the Persian kingdom resisted me twenty-one days. Then Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me, because I was detained there with the king of Persia.”

The Lord impressed upon my heart that sometimes mature Christians accept fate with courage and sometimes God doesn’t want them to accept fate, but rather, to pray through. That was the case in this one. About two weeks ago, the Lord spoke to me about continuing to pray that the package would be delivered, so I did. Yesterday it showed up. God is revealing to me the direct connection between faith, prayer and circumstances. The package was a great birthday gift, but it became even more special getting a word from the Lord at the same time.

Es Verde! (part 2)

Shortly after my "Es Verde!" article, Lena and I attended a Spanish chapel service. One of the songs was lovely and we had the following conversation:

Bill: That was a lovely song, but I had a hard time figuring out what it was about.

Lena: It was lovely. I think I got the translation.

Bill: Really? What were we singing?

Lena: "Without you, Lord, I would be like a boiled Parrot lying dead on the street."

Es Verde!

After one month in Costa Rica, I'm trying hard to win the award for using the smallest vocabulary with the greatest gusto. Everyday, I find that I've been saying something completely wrong. Originally, the cab drivers just smiled and nodded when I made incomrehendable sounds that I thought were words. Now, the cab drivers are starting to correct me. Often, two words sound so similar, it's hard to keep them straight. For example, the word for green (verde) is really close to the word for true (verdad). When you want to say, "That's right!" in Spanish, one way is to say "Es verdad!"... unless you're me. I've made the mistake of saying "Es verde!" on a few occasions. As such, I'm turning it into a trademark. The secret is to say it with a big smile, a lot of gusto and holding one thumb up. If you're in complete agreement, then let everyone know it by saying, "It's green!"

Cuisine in Costa Rica

We love life in our temporary home in Costa Rica. We're fulfilling God's calling with some of the most dedicated people we've ever met. Consequently, we feel honored and blessed every day. That is not to say that we haven't had to adjust. There are some things you can't get down here, like our favorite breakfast cereals (e.g., Frosted Mini-Wheats). Another cereal we can't find is All-Bran Bran Buds (they're little balls of bran mixed with psilliam). I call them "tootee buds." I bought some basic bran cereal down here, so it's not like I’m all bound up. In fact, some of the products down here work in my favor. For example, we have all increased our consumption of beans by 100 fold over what we ate at home. Yesterday, Lena and I had fried eggs over beans and rice for breakfast. I would not be surprised to find frijoles (beans) flavored ice cream down here. (See the note below for the funny story behind this picture.)

Another high fiber food is oatmeal, which has the whole grain in the mix. It's like eating the shell left behind by a cicada--mixed with brown sugar and raisins. They don't sell brown sugar for baking, but they do sell it as a drink. The Ticos drink brown sugar melted in water or milk as a hot drink. So, I buy the drink mix and put it in our oatmeal. They put sugar with caramel in their baking. They love caramel down here and put the flavor in everything. It works for me.

They have really good potato chips down here. I love potato chips that have burnt edges and that's just they way they make them here. In the states, I rarely eat potato chips (preferring peanuts and pretzels). But, chips are popular here, so it’s my form of cultural adaptation. We left some chips out over night and were able to catch this small family of bears sampling them.

Funny story about the beans and rice picture, above: In deciding to write about beans and rice (which is called Gallo Pinto), I thought a picture would help everyone have a better idea of what we are eating. So, I did a search on Google images. The picture, above, came up. When I looked at it, I got a funny feeling, noticing that whoever took the picture had the same table cloth, dishes and cups as we do. (Note the blue table cloth in the potato chip picture.) I clicked on the picture to see it's source and burst out laughing. It is from the blog of my friends Dave & Kelly Godzwa. They're missionaries to Mexico and lived in our apartment last year. Here's a link to Dave's blog, which contains a description of the Costa Rican sausage and traditional coffee brewing method that completed their Tico breakfast.

http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.disciplemexico.org/uploaded_images/MananaLunes%2520003-751359.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.disciplemexico.org/2006/05/happy-monday.html&h=768&w=1024&sz=175&hl=en&start=17&tbnid=q6jn5wa-8A25_M:&tbnh=113&tbnw=150&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dgallo%2Bpinto%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Den

Tarea is Spanish for Homework

Our school day is both short and long. We’re up by 6:00 AM. Hannah and Colton catch the bus at 7:00 AM. Lena drops Willy and Abi off at the daycare (called the Kinder) at 7:30. We start school at 7:45 AM. We begin with a short chapel service of worship, Bible Study or prayer. Then we’re in class until 12:15. It is roughly an hour of Spanish grammar, an hour of Spanish diction and two hours of guided conversation. Then we have as much as 8 hours of homework due the next day! Obviously, we don’t have that much homework every night and the amount of time that homework takes is dependent on the student. Lena knows a lot more Spanish than I do, so she finishes her homework before I do, in about 5-6 hours. There are a couple days per week when I’m doing homework until 12:00 or 1:00 AM, then I do more from 7:00-7:40 the next morning. It won’t be like this for the whole time we’re here. It’s tough now because we have so much to learn. The good news it that it is for the Lord! So, it’s like a form of devotions. Every Spanish word we learn is a gift to the Lord and a tool for speaking prophetic words to the lost. God has sent us out like surgeons to heal the wounded in the Spanish speaking world and in Costa Rica we are sharpening our scalpels. Nobody wants to be operated on with a butter knife. I say this with tears in my eyes: I thank the Lord for giving us the call and this opportunity to sharpen the tools. Every hour spent in class and on homework is our gift of love to the Lord and His gift of love to us.

You can see more pictures of us in School at http://picasaweb.google.com/BillandLenaPics/

Contact us in Costa Rica

Calling from the states is easy & cheap. We have two phone numbers—one for Cincinnati and one for Cleveland/Akron. So, from those cities it’s a local call. The numbers are:

Cincy: 513-407-5412

Cleveland/Akron: 330-294-0955

The best time is whenever the web is up. It goes down a lot in our apartment. The good news is that if you leave a voice mail, we'll get it. We're in the central time zone, an hour behind Ohio. We're out of school in the late afternoon. We're home on most evenings.

Mail in Costa Rica is reliable. Our mailing address is:

Bill & Lena Shrader

Apartado 614-2010
San Jose, Costa Rica

Family Pictures

http://picasaweb.google.com/BillandLenaPics/2006ChristmasShow

When my dad died last June, I put together a slide show of his life. This past Christmas Eve would have been mom and dad's 64th anniversary. It was a difficult holiday experience for all of us, especially my mom. As such, I decided to add to the show I'd done of dad's life and add pictures from my parents' marriage--remembering all the wonderful years. (I've posted the show at the link above.) My aunt Melba, who is featured in many of the pictures, is currently battling cancer. I'd like to ask all my friends to pray for Melba, my Uncle Billy and all of their family.

The picture above is of my parents when they were dating. It's one of my favorite shots. The 2nd picture is from our trip to Mexico in 2000. We spent a day in San Diego on the way back home. The hotel was remodeling, so they had all their new toilets lined up in the parking lot. I thought it was a great opportunity for a family photo. That trip was very instrumental in our call to Peru. Nonetheless, when we took this photo, we couldn't have dreamt that we'd be in Costa Rica now with two more Shraders in the bunch. God's plan is good and there's no better place to be than held tightly in His grace.

Life in San Jose, Costa Rica

We're enjoying life in Central America and language school with so many committed missionaries. I recently wrote a friend about our life here and thought I'd share part of that letter with everyone:

Costa Rica is excellent. We're in San Jose, which is in the middle of the country about 5000' above sea level. So, the weather is like a beautiful spring day, every day. The temps are probably in the low 70's during the day. I'm not sure, since they do temps here in centigrade. At night it is cool, often requiring a jacket. Since our house has not heat or air conditioning, I often feel like we're camping. Of course, we're camping in a really nice camper. Our apartment is very large and very beautiful. Our kitchen window is huge and looks right at the language school. So, we can see everyone who comes and goes. As for life in San Jose, we're just getting into it. This week, Lena and I, respectively, took cabs to get groceries or the kids at school. As such, we had to actually talk in Spanish to strangers. It was exciting. The Costa Rican people (called Ticos) are very kind, so they're helpful when I butcher their language.

One of the missionaries went to the beach this weekend. I thought it was too cold to swim. He explained that the beach is 4000' below us. There, the temps are in the 90's and the water is in the 80's. There's also a volcano region. It is higher in the mountains, so it's cooler. Both the volcano region and the beaches offer the jungle. There's a third region, which I think is usually part of the volcano region in most people's trips, it is the coffee region. Really good coffee is grown at higher altitudes. For example, most Starbucks coffee is grown at 5000' or higher, mostly in Costa Rica. I haven't had a bad cup of coffee since I got here.

The cost of living is about the same as at home. We visited the Mall, today. It was our first visit to a non-food store. A nice pair of Columbia hiking shoes were about $52.00. We bought shorts for Hannah at a store like Kohls. The shorts were about $11 a piece. Taxis are fairly cheap. We can get one for about $3.00 to go to the Mall or to a warehouse club.

My understanding of Spanish has grown. My joke is that my vocabulary has doubled in one week. At this rate, I'll be fluent in a month. I'm in the same class as Lena, which is a stretch for me. She's studied much more than I (in school) and has a vocabulary that is 4x mine. I'm guessing that in three months, I'll be able to begin conversations without having to say, "Please forgive me, I only speak a little Spanish." I've made friends with our next door neighbor. He's a divorced father who recently started attending an evangelical church. He hasn't had any discipleship, so I'm looking forward to deepening our friendship.

Kids & Spanish

Abi has been walking around going, “Si, blah, blah, blah.” Tonight, at dinner, Willy said, “Como esta?” I don’t think he knew what it meant, but he knew it was Spanish. He calls Spanish English. The apartment we rent comes with cable TV—which is also our internet connection. I was going through the cable channels looking for English stations. We hit a Cartoon channel (in Spanish) and Willy said, “Dad, that’s in English and we should watch it so that we can learn English.” When I paused on CNN; Hannah, Colton, and Willy all argued for the Spanish cartoons, instead. We haven’t heard any news since we left home. Eventually, the kids will let me watch a little CNN. Ironically, they are not yet eager to watch the Spanish version of Animal Planet.

First Day in Costa Rica

We arrived in Costa Rica for language study yesterday (1-3-07). We got two hours of sleep over a two day period, which is a common experience for people moving to a new country. Here's the run-down on our first day in Costa Rica.

Today we had our Spanish interview and placement test. My interview went great. My placement test was more difficult. The professor told me not to guess. That just about put a stop to anything except the part where I filled out my name. He told Lena that she had Latin in her blood, so she'd do great. (He seemed to ignore my Irish blood.) After the test, a friend (Efrain) took us grocery shopping at PriceMart (a latin version of Sam's Club). They're not owned by Sam's, but there are rumors that Sam's is trying to buy them out. It wasn't as large and it didn't have clothing. It had food, a small electronics area, a pharmacy and a food area (just like at Sam's club) where they sell pizza, TCBY Yogurt and Cappuccino. It was a good experience and it's nice to know that we can still shop at something somewhat familiar. Getting there was a trip. We walked about three blocks, then caught a taxi. It was a little Hyundai...a very little Hyundai. Abi and Willy stayed behind to play with Efrain's kids. That left Efrain, me, Lena, Hannah & Colton. Efrain sat in the front with the driver and the rest of us filled the back seat. It was cozy.

This afternoon, the kids wanted to watch TV. Willy yelled at Hannah to press the speaking button on the remote so that the people on TV would speak English. After Sponge Bob came on, he didn't care. It was interesting because he laughed throughout the cartoon. I'm now wondering how much he understood in English. Hannah's favorite Disney shows came on, all with Spanish dubbing. I usually hate those shows. I told her she's now allowed to watch as much Disney Channel as she wants--in Spanish. I told her that following the show and listening to them speak would be a boon to her Spanish acquisition. She started to bulk at the notion, then started to get excited to learn Spanish. I suspect that the worse that could happen is that she'd become fluent, though shallow.

Tonight we ate our first real meal here. We got the roasted chicken at PriceMart. It was nice. Our apartment is large and attractive. We come into a very large great-room that contains an eat in kitchen, a formal dinning room and a living room. There is a covered patio that is part of a small private courtyard. It's the prettiest part of the house. Most of the rooms have windows looking out into the courtyard. That's very common in latin culture. I'll send some pictures when I get the chance. For now, I'm mega-pooped.

Thanks to everyone who helped us through prayer, financial support and during the move. We are grateful beyond words ... especially if they're Spanish words.