Medellin, Colombia.
Here I work and live with all local people, this makes my fourth time to come and embrace the culture, survive in such a largely populated place. Of all places I travel, Medellin DOES have the best street food, from sugary donuts with caramel centers to potato balls deep fried and potato chips to the empanadas and “broasty” chicken. There is much variety and it is so lively. I have wondered as I forage for craft supplies in the center of town what are all these people doing at “Bombay”, the largest of craft stores here, but all behind counters and a small army work to service individually each customer. What a wonder!
Really I wanted to tell you about a special day two weeks ago. In Colombia I work with a branch of Prison Fellowship International. It is called here, Asociacion Confraternidad Carcelaria de Antioquia. Hey I even have the vest with logo as I do go into prisons to work, but more my focus here is the families of the prisoners. Those that suffer and become widows and orphans as the husband, provider is locked away from them. This year, I have revisited some of my precious families, seen children growing and met new families, just starting this walk of separation and pain.
Reaching most of the locations takes about an hour and a half. I go by taxi, the Metro, bus and then walk sometimes up flights and flights of concrete stairs.
We had two families come together in one house in Itagui, a large city to the south of Medellin proper, a stop on the Metro. The entire valley has grown together over the years as it expands still and the building go up and up the mountainside.
Coming back from a location I like to just take one bus, even if it is a long ride and then walk up to my apartment from the end of the line. Going, I have three heavy bags, stuff I am giving to the families, extra food things for them, my fruit to share with them to illustrate the Fruit of the Spirit teaching which has been my central theme this trip. So coming back is WAY lighter!!
It rains so much here starting in the late afternoon and so I try to move the visits along as I will avoid the rain. THAT IS A LAUGH ON ME! I said, “try”! Anyway, we finished and I could get a bus close just as thunder clapped so loud I got in to have the rain start pouring. A few stops down, a man got in with his classic guitar and as it rained he played and sang a fabulous song for all to hear. It was like a soundtrack to a movie. Guess it was, the movie I was living in for the moments. He got off and we travel for over an hour in the rain. It was getting closer to drop off and I knew I would have to walk in the deluge. Just bracing myself and buying for later some of the best cheese bread in town I started the trek. It was dark and I just trucked, there was no stopping a cab, no bus to really get in . You can guess I was wet, wet, wet. Did I say wet?? About 3 blocks from my apartment and I went at least 14 long city blocks, I said, “Survivor 25”, a random number and just laughed. I was about my Father’s business, the families I saw were just delighted with the visit, the gifts, the craft, the prayers we lifted for them.
As I entered the lobby, I waddled and made the sound “quack, quack”! Of course they laughed to see me all wet, but still joking. You know I would not trade that day for anything. It IS such a blessing to go to the humblest of places and spend time with people who have no chairs, no table, but they love and care and know that God reaches down to them, yes, even in the form of me sometimes. All Glory to His Name!!