Friday, July 25, 2008 

Count Your Blessings

I was coming back from the post office the other day when I ran across an older man I had met at the wedding. He invited me to sit down at the cafe and we sat and talked for an hour or so. I got to share the gospel with him, starting from Adam and Eve and ending with Jesus. He listened politely and asked some good questions, and then we left.

This guy is at least 60 years old, and has heard lies about God and about salvation all his life. One day some 24-year-old foreign kid (me) comes up and tells him something different, and he's supposed to believe it?

God is sovereign (Eph 1:11), and He does whatever He wants (Psalm 135:6), and all that He does is good (Psalm 119:68). I fear for the man I sat with and talked to. Will he hear truth again? Was that his only shot? If that was his only shot, it wasn't much of one if you ask me.

How many times have we heard the gospel? How many times have we heard truth? I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing this guy heard nothing until age 60 when some foreign kid talked to him once. Who knows if he'll ever hear again.

I'm glad I'm not him.

1:16 PM | |

Monday, July 21, 2008 

My Good Friend's Wedding

One of my good friends here got married a couple of weeks ago, and he invited me to the festivities. So my roommate and I put on our ties and headed out to the intersection where the wedding was going to take place. (My friend isn't the richest guy, so the wedding was on the street near his house. It was a wide open space, though, and there were no problems with cars or anything).


My roommate and I got there about 30 minutes early, and we took a seat as people put chairs up and the band rehearsed. After 30 minutes or so people slowly started streaming in as the band started rocking it out. The guitar-like instrument player kicked on some distortion and everybody hit the dance floor, otherwise known as the pavement.

The 2-man band that rocked all night long.


Everybody doing the line dance.


We all danced for an hour or so, and finally the groom and bride crashed the party, pulling up in a VW Golf, a pretty fancy car for around these parts. After they got out of the car they joined in the dancing, and we all danced for another hour or so.


After that, the bride and groom put on some sashes and stood in the middle of the intersection, and everybody lined up to pin gold and money on them. The standard wedding tradition around here is to pin gold and money on the bride and groom to help them pay for the wedding and start their new life.



After the gold pinning, we all danced for another hour or so, and then the bride and groom left in the VW Golf on the way to their honeymoon. To end the night, we danced for a while and then headed home. Weddings over here are a lot more fun than weddings back home. Over here you show up, dance all night, and go home.


The happy groom and bride

11:05 AM | |

Monday, July 07, 2008 

It's All About The Benjamins?

This culture is funny when it comes to money a lot of times, and I experienced that twice in the past few weeks.



Story #1: I rent an apartment here where I read, sleep, and update this blog. My rent contract ended like a month ago, and in true local fashion my landlord called me last week to make a new one. She invited me to her house to do the paperwork, so one evening I went over.

My landlord and her husband met me at the door and invited me in. We sat down and made conversation for an hour or so while I drank some cherry juice, then it was time to get down to business. My landlord looked me square in the eye and asked me,

"How much do you want to pay this year?"

I was a little taken aback by this, I figured she would just tell me how much to pay and be over with it.

"Well, I didn't really think about it. How much do you want me to pay?"

"I don't care, whatever you want to pay is fine. Just say a figure."

I'd really like to stay for free, but I didn't say that. I said a figure a little above what I paid last year, but not that much. The landlord then talked to her husband about inflation and all, then told me,

"That sounds good."

We signed the papers and talked for a little while longer, then I left.


Story #2: A few weeks ago one of the lights in my apartment stopped working. I put in a new light bulb, but that didn't help either. Having exhausted my knowledge of broken lamps and electrical things, I walked down to the local electric guy in the neighborhood. His shop is a 2-minute walk from my apartment, and I'd stopped in there before to talk. So after sitting in the shop for an hour or so making conversation with his retired dad, we headed over to the apartment.

He worked for a while and fixed the lamp, and as he headed to the door I figured it was time to talk business.

"How much do I owe you?"

"It's not important, just pay whatever you want."

Okaaaay. Not knowing the going rate for electric work around here, I looked in my wallet and gave him a 20.

"That's way too much, take that back and give me something smaller."

"That's the smallest bill I've got on me."

"Okay." He then dug through his pockets and handed me a 10. Then he grabbed all the loose change he had on him and gave that to me as well. I handed him the 20, and he went on with his day.

Apparently around here, it's not all about the Benjamins.

11:07 AM | |