>so, here it is, 2005. and i thought i was never even going to make it to 1998 all my life. i have just returned from a CVBC (www.cypressvalley.org) mission trip to San Felipe, Guanajuato, Mexico, where i was part of a 27-member team sent by our church to further some work on the church that we have planted there. we took three crews — construction, women’s study/crafts and children’s study/crafts. all three did very impressive work. in the church building, door facings were constructed and installed, holes were patched, roof work was done, lighting was installed, heaters were installed, bathroom improvements were made, storage shelves were built. i’m sure there were more improvements made — i just wish more people could have seen before and after photos! the children and women’s groups worked on arts/crafts projects to use to decorate the church.

the first two nights we were there, we showed (on a BIG screen) The Passion Of The Christ (with Spanish subtitles, of course) to two full houses (40 +) people, church members and other community members. on tuesday, after working for four hours to get the audio/visual kinks worked out, we ended up having to go and buy an additional DVD player from a San Felipe electronics vendor. jokingly, while preparing to pay for the player (the one we had brought was useless to us as we had somehow arrived without the remote control to operate it), i said, “…unless of course, you just want to loan it to us…”. and Javier, the shop owner said, “you just need it for today and tomorrow?”. i said, “yes.” and he responded, “well, just buy it, and when you return it tomorrow, i will give you your money back.” okay. so we did. and when we went back the next day to return it, his shop was already closed. so, feeling like he would consider me a liar, we got it back to him the next afternoon, and he was not in the shop. javier, his son, said, “are you returning a DVD player?” and i said, “yes. we came here last night, but you were closed.” he asked me if i had the receipt, and i told him that one of my friends had it and that i had forgotten to get it from him. he went to the desk, withdrew 950 pesos and gave it to me. every peso we had paid him. no questions asked. amazing. only in mexico. i left javier (the dad) a nice note thanking him and blessing him for having done us the favor, and we went about our evening.

on the second night, Russ asked me if i would be interested in going to León the next day to donate blood on behalf of one of the church members, Zacarías, who is scheduled to have a surgery in the next couple of months. i said, “sure.” so, at 4:15 the next morning, i got up, showered (in very cold water) and jumped in the truck with six other team members, Zacarías and his wife Éster, for the 1.5 hour trip to León. when we finally found the hospital and checked in at 7:15 am, we learned that they accept donors on a lottery style basis, and they were accepting only thirty for that morning, all of which spaces had already been ticketed/claimed. so, Éster went to talk to the doctor, letting him know that she had seven potential donors from the United States who were leaving the country the next day. he issued ten more tickets, and we began the complicated process of eligibility to donate blood. in Mexico, apparently, (or at least in this place), someone who is going to have a surgery is required to rustle up twenty blood donors to give blood on his/her behalf before having surgery and twenty blood donors to give blood on his/her behalf after the surgery is completed to replenish the blood bank.

the process was tiresome and lengthy. first, we had to wait for our number to be called. one at a time, we went up to a reception window to give personal information — address, date of birth, occupation, phone number, level of education. then, we were called again to give a blood sample for typing purposes. then we sat back down in the waiting area. then, we were called into another room to have our blood pressure checked, our measurements taken and our weight checked. then we sat back down in the waiting room. then we were called, one by one, into a small private room with a doctor who asked us the series of very personal questions and, in my case anyway, spent time reviewing with me the results of my blood tests. he marveled at my good health and set about telling me what every count, percentage and number meant. all the while comparing me to the average Mexican woman. he complimented my apparently healthy diet and general good health. that was a freebie. then, we sat back down. then, if we were not disqualified by any of our answers or results, we waited until they called our number (coincidentally, mine was thirty-seven, the age i just turned last month) and went to lie down on the elevated blue lounge chairs to be punctured by what looked like a 900 gauge needle (aka garden hose) to begin the extraction of the precious fluid.

earlier, in the waiting room, a rather tall, dark and handsome doctor type walked by and caught the eye(s) of my friend Sally and me. while i was lying prone on the vampire chairs, said tall, dark and handsome doctor walked over and spoke to me, in English and then Spanish after i answered him in his native language. then, my pal David shouts from his corner, “hey, C*****i, is that the doctor that you wanted to hit on you?”. eeeeeeeeeeek. i looked at him and said, “hello, he’s bilingual!” and David and Chris and Casey proceeded to laugh out loud. all i could say was, “great, now they won’t get any blood because it’s all in my face!” fabulous. the doc who did the sticking was pretty good with a needle, and he was a little too excited about my “venas muy buenas” (very good veins). i thought one time that he was going to try and suck it out of both arms at once. anyway, apparently i broke some record for quickest filling of a blood bag (seven minutes), and i lay there to recuperate for about 20 minutes — snacking on the bag of goodies they gave me. a three-piece-of-white-bread ham and cheese sandwich, a tangerine, a boiled egg, and some guava nectar (there they’ve got the American Red Cross beat). actually, i only delved into the sandwich because i had not eaten since about 10 pm the night before — we were told we had to fast (total — nothing to eat or drink) for at least eight hours before donating. which made no sense to any of us since we would have NO strength to donate. of course, upon arrival, and after reading and translating the twenty-four rules posted on the wall of the waiting area, we realized that we could have had water, juice, fruit and/or vegetables.

with big holes in our arms and food on our minds, we got our proof of donation and proceeded to the truck to set about finding lunch. i had seen a Pollo Feliz on the way into town, and we were determined to find it before heading back to San Felipe. we found it, and read the sign “Only To Go”. so we decided to have a tailgate party. we ordered a couple of chickens, several quesadillas and got chips and hot sauce and sodas to lay out on the tailgate of David’s truck. as we were wolfing down the (amazingly tasty) food, David said, “Happy Chicken, 60 pesos, Quesadillas, 12 pesos, Tailgating with friends on the street in Mexico, Priceless.” and we all laughed. perhaps the best quesadillas i’ve ever put in my mouth. the ladies at the stand told us they make 10,000 corn tortillas daily. daily. two women. in a room the size of your smallest bedroom. it was great.

we got back to san felipe and checked in at the church. we wrapped up some details and prepared for the Lord’s Supper that evening. at the last minutes, we realized we had forgotten to buy the bread. oops. so we hopped in the truck and set about navigating the maze of one way streets hoping to find a bakery still open. we finally found one and had to settle for a sweetened sesame bread (to date we have found no Biblical prohibition of said bread type) to use for the service. it went off mostly without a hitch, and we had a very dynamic dialogue during the service.

after packing up and setting the alarm for 3:15 am, i went to bed. as consolation for not being able to make the fun side trip to san miguel de allende before returning home, my roommate and i were granted special permission to sleep in the makeshift rolling bedroom otherwise designated for drivers. the full size mattress in the camper of the truck bed. heavily sedated, i snuggled in for a nice five hour nap which lasted until the first bathroom stop somewhere north of san felipe. then, i crawled into the cab of the truck. where i made the rest of the trip, sitting in the back seat. i made a few new friends, as has been the blessed pattern, and i was reminded of the power that God has and is not afraid to use. several new believers came to faith during the trip, and i believe that several of our lives were changed in ways we could never have expected. and the toilets flushed, as designed, every time.

happy new year, and i hope you are healthy happy and spiritually sound!