Nicaragua part 2-- Corn Island

We left the dock after the endless lumber showdown between officials.  They left the lumber on the dock, although by now they decided it could have gone with us. The captain pretty much just stayed out of the discussion ready to abide by whatever official word was decreed.
 It was a beautiful balmy night with many brilliant stars visible.  Jerry and I went to the front deck to view the stars, and were mesmerized by their beauty; so many more visible here in the open darkness.  Although pretty tired by now we thoroughly enjoyed the trip.  The galley was serving delicious microwaved popcorn and Cup O Noodles and had some pop left so we at least ate.  It is amazing how good that is when you are hungry.  The hammockers were swaying with the boats rhythm and it looked pretty peaceful. It had taken us 2 full days to get this far and we were ready to be there.

We pulled in to port at Corn Island around 10:30, and the pastors guided us to a hotel.  It was called Sweet Dreams, just like our last hotel.  As a matter of fact it had the same charm.  Our room had mildly working AC, but no window.  By now we knew that hot water was a thing of the past.  Just water or no water was the issue.  The shower worked, but the blast of water came out of the pipe in the wall and hit the back wall of the shower, there was no showerhead.  You couldn't bathe without anointing the whole bathroom and or peeling your skin off.  Also standard in Nicaraguan rooms is one towel per room and no furniture or places to put or hang anything other than the bed.  The toilet worked which was probably highest on the list after a clean bed.  The only bedding is 2 sheets on the beds.  This is standard in Central America as no blankets are ever needed.  In the middle of the night the power went out, and we suffocated with no ac or fan blowing and no window to create a breeze. 
We slept some as we were beat, but were tired still in the morning.  We compared notes and Dale and Shari had no air or fan and didn't sleep well either.  Also the feeling of the place was just not hospitable.  We decided to seek other digs after we saw the pastors.
In the morning we found breakfast and coffee and then thought we were looking for their church which was a Maranatha church.  The only one people knew of was way on the other side of the island, which isn't saying much.  The island is only a few miles long, and 2 wide.  There is a bus that runs around and around in a circle to service the island, and a reported 120 taxis that also run around and around seeking passengers. For a few cents we went by bus to the church and piled out with our luggage at a interesting church.  The man who greeted us was the pastor and he said this was the only Maranatha Church on the island.  He knew Henry, but said that Henry's people met in a house.  I saw a side building, and saw women working there and went over to say hi. They were making bread in what was the church kitchen.  They said that they sold the bread to make money for the church and its kitchen. On a table in front of the window they were making dough including grating coconut and squeezing it in water to make coconut water for the dough.  We watched them knead it and make large rolls.  These they put into a large heavy aluminum pan.  They had built a fire on a concrete covered table.  They set the pan on the fire, put a piece of tin roofing on top of the pan and made another fire on top of the tin.  Every 10 minutes they moved the firey tin lid and took out the baked rolls and put uncooked ones in.  The room was very smokey and the women and kids were all breathing the choking air while baking.
The rolls were delicious.  Fine textured, sweet and with a slightly smokey flavor from the fire.  They also made a variety of sugar filled rolls and meat filled rolls.  We would certainly be their customers as often as possible.  The women were friendly and seemed happy to have us there.  There were scads of adorable kids who mugged for the camera happily. 
The pastor invited us to church that night.  It appears that they had church every night at 7pm.  We left to find our hotel.  We met a taxi driver who gave us a ride.  His name was George Morgan.  He recommended the house run by Angela Morgan (who happened to be his sister).  The Morgans were one of three families that had originally colonized the island.
When we first got there, we were unsure about staying there.  The rooms were under her house they were accessed from a large porch which had ironwork grating and a locking door.  This would provide an outdoor area where we could all sit together and talk.  The common sink was on the porch as were the two shared bathrooms (toilet and shower).  We all found rooms with shuttered windows. Each had great fans.  It looked like camping more than a hotel as we were nervous about mosquitos without window glass or screens.  It did look very clean however and we said ok.  It proved to be a great decision.  We did need a small amount of bug spray occasionally, but it wasn't too bad.  The beds were comfortable and the fans worked fine to keep us cool enough to sleep.  The porch became our living room and allowed us to remain connected. We were getting quite used to cold water showering and found that the water had good pressure.  I think this trip was making us rethink what we thought we needed from a hotel.  By now this seemed pretty sweet, and just $15 a night.
The owner was Angela Morgan who was a delightful beaming woman who was an lawyer and judge on the island.  She had visits from police from time to time which probably made us the safest place in town.
Another blessing to the location, was the fact that the church we would visit was just accross the airport runway and down a mile.  They opened the runway to people to cross through gates unless a plane was due.  We walked that night and it only took a few minutes. The Maranatha Church we went to at 7 pm was fairly typical looking for a 3rd world church.  The pastor explained that it had been built 30 years ago after a hurricaine had devastated the Island.  The front wall had a full length mural painted on it with Jesus being baptized.  He was very hispanic looking except for red hair and blue eyes.  Above is head was a decorative but non-working clock.  Also on the front wall was a decorative but non-working fruit clock.  There was a chandelier hanging above the pulpit area that only had one working light but was strung with a string of white lights in a carefree fashion. In various places from the ceiling were hung some sprays of plastic flowers.  And over each side of the aisle was the lettering "Caballeros" and "Damas".  Meaning men on one side women on the other.  It is obvious that people are trying to hang up every decorative or beautiful thing they can find but have no idea how random it looks.  It is touching.
When church started, the worship was amazing.  The little gal who led was like a worship drill sergeant.  She kept it lively.  It was obvious that the Spirit was present.  We enjoyed it so much.  I cannot imagine how people can make clapping sounds that loud.  The whole thing was very loud, but not because of cranked speaker volume, just sheer human enthusiasm.
Clint spoke the message and it seemed well received.  I can't remember right now what he spoke on. He was speaking without a translator and we are not anywhere near fluent yet.  We talked with various folks and then walked back through the dark to the hotel.
When we got back we found we had new hotel-mates.  Two cute young couples from Norway were staying in the 2 unbooked rooms.  They said that they could hear the singing in the church from the hotel.  One said "now that's how church should be".  We liked it.
Corn Island if frequented by world-wide travelers most of whom are staying there on their way to Little Corn Island, which is set up for tourists with more luxurious hotels and world class surfing and snorkling.  It is about 45 minutes away by boat, we hear.  These folks were no exception and the next day they moved on.  Corn Island has bars, and some availability to rent a boat or go diving, but is not really a "hot spot" for tourists.  It is mostly home to those who make their living from the sea, store owners who supply them, and some really hungry taxi drivers.
The next day we took advantage of our taxi driver's offer to take us on an island tour, we took 2 taxis  for the 6 of us and with slow driving, and frequent stops, the tour lasted and hour.  Then he took us to a guy named Darcy who had a boat and diving business.  For $20 he would take us out snorkling.  It was fairly rough with a good wind blowing. Only the 3 men wanted to go out so us ladies walked and explored the beautiful beach.  The beach had a fair amount of litter, it is unknown whether it was from the island itself or from passing boats.  It didn't dim our feeling of luxury as we sat under palm trees watching the truely aqua and green water break onto the white sand beach. 
Darcy was an interesting guy who tried to make a living with taking divers, snorklers and fishermen on tours. He also has small cabins for rent.  He also set us up to have a fresh lobster meal for a little more than the cost of the lobster at the market. $7.00.  His sister-in-law would cook it for us tomorrow as they had to get the food from the lobster sellers.  The diving and lobster were our first real "tourist" stuff of the trip as we were really there to make connections and see what the needs were.
We typically ate at places that served typical food.  Usually beans, rice and some kind of meat or fish. In latin america this type of meal costs from $2 to $5 dollars and is usually pretty fast and tasty. We found that often we were bombasted by music that caused us to wince and shout.  It is humorous to hear so much country-western in such a foreign place.  It must be world-wide by now.
Jerry and I had reservations to fly to Greeley from San Jose on the following Tuesday, so we needed to leave the next day, Saturday if we had a hope of making it.  The bus from Rama to San Carlos only ran at 4 am and if we didn't get there by then we would have to spend a day in Rama.  The whole venture with all of the journey legs costing boat and bus tickets was getting much more expensive than we had anticipated, so we wanted to minimize extra days if possible. 
It was apparent when we got out and about on Saturday that the wind had picked up cosiderably.  We met again with the 2 pastors in the morning and then went off to our lobster lunch.  It was right by the ocean at Darcy's brother's store, next to the dive business.  We ate 2 tails apeice and enjoyed it a lot. None of us had ever had fresh lobster before.  It actually has flavor.  The wind was so brisk though that our rice was being blown off our forks. 
Clint had potentially arrainged for us to go by fishing boat directly to Rama later that day.  We would be there overnight and able to catch the bus on Sunday.  It became obvious that any smaller craft was not a good option.  Even if it sailed, who would want to be 40 miles out to sea with white caps breaking everywhere?  The other 2 options were flying to the mainland, a 15 minute hop to Bluefields, and taking the Captian D which sailed at midnight and would cost us a day in Rama.
We did decide to fly for $60 each.  The flight was scheduled to fly at 3pm which would just let us catch the last river boat to Rama at 4pm.  We made our way to the small airport, and lined up.  The incoming plane came in almost 30 minutes late making our connection hopes dim, but the airline was extremely no nonsense.  Just as soon as the incoming passengers were off, our luggage was on board.  We all marched out and barely sat before the plane taxied. I loved it. Despite a few reservations about flying in a small (30 seater) plane in such gusty winds, the flight was very smooth and easy.  We jumped into taxis and rushed to the docks.  As soon as we could free ouselves of the "helpful" hoarde Clint went to see about the boat.  It seemed that the usual river boat had already gone.  The hoarde said that we would never get permission to travel that late on another boat.  The harbor really controls travel by boat.
Clint came back and said he had found a guy willing to take us.  He said he was a good captian and it was a good boat.


view from the balcony of the Sweet Dreams hotel




A general store on Corn Island




The Captain D.  A wonderful experience.  Note the area on the back deck with the tin roof.  It housed most of the passengers in hammocks.




a cabin by a lumber yard




Clint riding the bus which circles the island.  Many buses have pretty curtains which go all the way around.  A person touch.



These school kids which crowded the bus were laughing and pushing until I turned the camera around.  I think it startled them

The Maranatha Church.  The pastor talking with Clint and Renee

The church kitchen, the women inside are the bread makers

The inside of the church.  It probably seats 100. notice mural, chanendelier and plastic flowers.
The mural suffer damage, not sure if from the hurricaine or other moisture.

mixing the coconut bread



It was a group project



Jesus has a clock over his head.  I'm not sure why they picked that spot.  The clock doesn't work even.

A fire was built both above and below the bread pan

It looks done.  The room was pretty smokey

Don't hate me

The divers head out. Darcy on the left then Jerry, Dale and Clint

The church chandelier

Our shared porch with our sink.  Jerry and my room with open door

Our little home.  The fans worked great.

The last day the wind started to gust pretty good.

Our lobster dinner.  We had to watch that we didn't lose our food to the wind.

Our lovely ride to Bluefields.

We were going to Rama that night.  We would be on the bus in the am, woo hoo!!

Nicaragua Part 1--Whoosh off we go--second time around

As mentioned at my first attempt, we were headed to Nicaragua, specifically Corn Island.  That is a small island about 40 miles off the east coast of Nicaragua.  One of the pastors ministers there, and wants to build a church in a poor area mostly attended by Miskito Indians.

We were in the car ready to go at 5:30 am on Tuesday, the 2^nd.  We were squeezed into the Galloper, Shari and I being the ones who fit best into the jumpseats  in the back.  We had a luggage rack on the back of the car so we actually had plenty of room (if not leg room).  The Galloper being 4WD was the best choice, as we didn’t know what the Nicaraguan roads would be like.  We planned to drive to Bluefields, a town on the east coast and from there catch a boat to the island.

As the sun came up we had a beautiful view of a smoking volcano visible from San Jose.  The ride to the north was great; it was sunny and we were excited about the trip.  We had just made the same round trip to go to Llano Verde over the weekend (and leave Katie there).  When we got to the north, the road we were going to take was blocked by border police.  At first we thought it was due to the rather heated border dispute between  Nicaragua and Costa Rica in the area of the San Juan River, but they said that that road did not have a border crossing.  We went a few miles back to Los Chiles where there was a border crossing.  There Clint emailed the pastors, Henry and Larry,  to let them know we were coming and to meet us in Bluefields.

Imagine our surprise when we found out that the only way to proceed was by river boat.  We had just enough time to park the car in a fenced car lot (complete with mean dog), go through customs, and get a bite to eat.  We hastily abandoned all the extra stuff we could and all luxuries like snacks and wished we had packed a little smaller.  But oh well, whoosh here we go. From there on we would be going by bus, boat, taxi, and however else into territory that none of us had been in.

We went through immigration without problem, bought our boat tickets and made our way to the dock.  We were stopped by an official of Los Chilies and made to pay $1.00 each for the privilege of walking through the town.  The boat we took was a river taxi.  It obviously was used frequently for some of the other passengers.  We rode up a river that was very like the San Juan which Jerry and I had been on before.  There were giant trees lush vegetation and palms complete with howler monkeys and many birds.  The only habitations visible were small shacks that were raised on pilings.  It was a good thing as the river was very high and most were surrounded by water.  We saw faces peering out at us as we passed.  The usual chickens and pigs were missing as there were no yards.

The pleasant ride was over in about an hour when we broke out into Lake Nicaragua.  It is HUGE.  We  could barely see the other shores.  It is the largest lake in Central America.  We crossed the end of the lake to San Carlos.  As we got off we were in the midst of chaos which is a part of a border or port town.   As soon as gringos are spotted we are viewed as a source of money or entertainment or curiosity for many.  We guarded our stuff and made our way the couple of block to the bus depot.  We were destined to travel by bus to Rama, there to catch another boat. The dock area is a very unappealing touristy area with lots of cheap stuff for sale.  None of us were interested in buying anything but it was very colorful and interesting.  We found our bus and a bathroom (both equally important).  It was about 2:30 when we docked and about 4:00 when we left.  The bus was old and looked like it was used hard.  It reminded us of a berry bus.  The seats were spaced very close together  with very little legroom for the smallest of us.  Jerry, with his long legs, really had to sit sideways more than forward.   Most of us had seats that were partially broken or had weird springs underneath, but we had seats.

As soon as we took off we were on a dirt road.  Our driver was very bold and drove at max speed.  There was soft dirt and gravel in places as the road was under construction the whole way.  These places made the bus tilt alarmingly at times.  We did have to slow down to cross many temporary bridges that were barely wider than the bus.

We traveled through a very rural, rustic  area with no cities.  As dark fell we saw some electric lights but not that many.  There were many small cabins or sheds surrounded by pigs, chickens, and playing children.  None had windows, just open shutters.  Many men rode horses, and often we saw several horses tied up to very tiny cantinas or bars.  We stopped frequently to exchange passengers and at one stop we loaded about 8 large tubs of cheese.  The bus driver’s helper carried them each to the top of the bus up a ladder with the tubs on his head.

We were grateful for widows which opened during the trip as the temperature was quite hot.  We did choose to close them however when milk draining from the cheese began dripping down the sides of the bus and raining in on us.



Here is the volcano we saw from San Jose when we were leaving




The Galloper which was not to be our transport after all




In Los Chiles, Costa Rica this guy flagged us down for a "walking through the town tax"  when we came back we walked a different road to avoid him and never had to pay.




Immigration at Los Chiles on our way out of the country




Our river taxi down the Rio Frio to San Carlos




As you can see the river was really high and the people living here needed boats to get home for sure.




One of the magnificant trees on the river.  It is giant to look at and home to many creatures.




Our bus from San Carlos to San Pedro




The flavor of San Carlos




Off we go on the bus




Breakfast before we board the river boat in Rama taking us to Bluefields




Jerry on our boat and the boat off to the side that was mistakenly thought would be ours.




Our boat which turned out to be a great, fun ride.  We had to hold our hats.




Pastors Henry on left and Larry on right




A passenger on the Captain D




Loading the lumber.




The hammocks looked pretty comfortable but many were way up in the air and over peoples heads.  It would take an experienced person to get in with confidence.




One of many food sales people who circulated while the boat was docked.  I believe we bought empanadas from him.




A neighboring boat.  You can see the typical sleeping quarters in the back.



Market day for some.

The next leg of the journey was supposed to be on another bus.  This bus was to drop us off in San Pedro where the bus to Rama would pick us up in a few minutes.  We got off at almost 9:00 after 4 1/2 hours of travel grateful for a few minutes break.  We walked the block to the bus stop.  There was a little food stand there when the people who were there informed us that the bus had just left 10 minutes ago.  We would have 2 hours to wait to catch one at 11 pm. Yikes!  We sat there at this well-lit, but rural crossroad somewhat resigned to sit for the duration.  We hoped it was safe to be here after dark.  We started talking about the fact that God could make a divine appointment for us when a taxi drove up.  He already had a passenger, but asked if we needed a ride to Rama. We told him we were 6 people, but he shrugged and said to get in anyways.  The poor guy who had the taxi first, was put on the top of the trunk that contained our 50 or more pounds of luggage.  Not knowing if it was possible, the rest of us folded into the taxi.  It was a Hyundai Elantra (sp), a very small car with room for 5. We all made 8 plus luggage.  Dale sat in front and the other 5 of us sat on top of each other in cemented positions  of extreme discomfort, but it still was preferable to waiting there in the dark. 

Trunk guy got off in about 20 minutes.  He had a very poor ride as the driver didn’t slow down for him at all.  It seemed pretty scary.  Every mile or so we ran into topes (huge speed bumps common all through Central America). We had to zig zag over them at turtle speed and still we scraped bottom on each one.  At one point we had to stop and let the taxi drivers brakes cool off.  They were smoking.  The taxi driver was the first one on the trip that was continually trying to bless us with music.  Right behind us was the back speaker and he like to turn the music up way past comfort or pleasure to where we had to shout.

Every time we stopped and he got out or whenever we could we turned the music down or off, but he restored it when he came back.  At last, at last we pulled in to Rama after 2 hours. It gave us a new comparison for the journey. “ well its better than the taxi” was our new measure.

The hotel we were taken to was called Dulce Sueno or sweet sleep or dreams.  We were so ready.  We heartily thanked our driver who had aged his taxi considerably for us.  The rooms had little to recommend except they were there and cheap and sort of clean.

Some of us woke up with bad headaches as we think that the beds had been sprayed with insecticide, but then none of us got bitten while in bed either.

We were in Rama.  Yeah.

We made our way to the next leg of the journey which was another river boat to Bluefields.  We actually met the pastors Larry and Henry there at the dock.  We ate there and saw a beautiful boat which we assumed was ours.  Wow luxury.  When we went to get on, we found it was not.  Awww.  Ours was small and seated  about 15.  It actually was a good thing as it got up and scooted.  It was a fun ride on a fast boat in the open air and washed the headaches away.  This river the Condito River was much larger and had barge and freighter traffic.  There were many boats docked along the river used as housing as well.  We were flagged down by one freighter to take on a sick young woman to get her to town faster than they would.

After a pleasant ride, we arrived in Bluefields.  Again the border-town, port-town theme took over. Many people mobbed us with requests to carry luggage, shine our shoes and just to befriend us and tell us what to do. It was sad to see the little shoe shine boys look us over mournfully with all of us in flip flops.

We got our tickets for a 12:00 sailing of a cargo ship named the Captain D that was to take us out to Corn Island.  It supposedly was a 4 hour journey, but the leaving time might depend a little on how the cargo loading went.

We got to a bar the pastors took us to for food and ordered by 11:15 or so.  Again with the music. We were seated under a giant speaker which was cranked up playing mostly American country music.  We shouted our orders to the waitress, only 2 small orders and we waited.  We slowly got our cokes one by one and drank those and waited.  As noon approached we got a little anxious that the boat was getting ready to sail. One of the pastors went to see, and said the boat wouldn’t sail until at least 12:30 as 12 came and went and we continued to shout to each other and observe only very sad looking old men ( who were probably young when they came in) sitting there.  We finally got concerned enough to get up to find the missing waitress and tell her we had to leave.  She ran out of the bar to go down the street to get some to go boxes.  We paid and a little after 12:30 we left with our food.  We ran to the dock and were relieved to see some piles of concrete and lumber left to load up. Oh well, better to wait a little than miss it.  The boat only sails twice a week. 

It was a great experience, like out of a book to get on that boat.  They said it was an old coast guard boat, well over 100 feet long.  We climbed up on the upper deck past the 4 large pigs sleeping on deck to the passenger area.  There was a large canopy where most people were out of the sun but we were happy to get seats even though in the sun and figured we would cool down once we sailed.  We ate our to go food and sat.  The horn tooted at 1:30, but we didn’t actually sail until 2:00.  It was a fascinating place to observe people.  There was a very old skinny Nicaraguan man in a Japanese animaeshirt, a number of Rasta-looking guys with dredlocks, several Europeans, a troop of girls who looked American, but were very stand-offish and were only Spanish speaking and many locals going home.  Overhead were many hammocks swinging with people resting in them already.

Down below was two heads (bathrooms) and a galley serving food and pop.  We were glad to sail as it was much cooler underway.  When an hour had passed we got to a border station where we stopped at  a dock for inspection.

We had been sitting for a long while when word circulated that there was a problem with the large amount of lumber that was on board.  It seems that there was no permit for it.  The captain said there were many officials arguing about it and he would let them argue it out.  He had taken lumber many times before with no problems.  The lumber was ordered by a woman for her house.  Well 1 hour, then 2, then 3 went by and they were still arguing.  Finally the decision was made.  The lumber had to come off. The crew began to work at that at piled it on the dock.  After the lumber was unloaded, it seems that they discovered that all was well with the permits after all.  We were unsure if that meant reloading, but we were on the boat and it was better than the taxi.  At 6:30 or so we pulled out under the stars to sail for Corn Island.

End of Part 1.

Nicaragua Part 1, Whoosh off we go.

I hate to spoil the surprize ending, but we are home in Greeley.  This is the first chance of telling the tail so . . . we made it.

Clint Wisdom had been contacted by two traveling pastors while in one of the Nicaraguan ghettos in San Jose.  The were seeking help in their communities with a number of needs both financial, and for labor and teaching.  He had told them he would try to go to their communities to see first hand what the needs were before making any committments.  He had mentioned that to us and we really wanted to go along.
So, we left last Tuesday at 5:30 am for Nicaragua.  Our troop included Clint and Renee, Dale and Shari, and Jerry and I, Carol.  The rest of this post was suddenly deleted by Blogger and it is too late to redo it.
It will be worth it so check back again for upcoming additions.

Hasta Luego Olga

Carol, Olga, Jerry last day of spanish lessons

Dale, Shari, Kati, Jerry, Olga, Carol the whole spanish class

We always started our class with prayer

 Jerry and I will be leaving on the 9th of November and so we ended our spanish classes with our wonderful, sweet patient teacher Olga.  She has been a great encourager to us and has taught us much more than the spanish we have been studying.  She is a teacher during the day, and works 8 to 10 or 12 hours and then comes and spends 3 to 5 hours with us.  She is amazing. On top of that she is a student herself and currently working on a thesis she will be presenting soon.
We will greatly miss her visits and classes.  She has given us homework (as always) and we will continue to stay in touch by email ( in spanish, they might be short emails)
She has been our sister in the Lord as well and we appreciate that we always read the Word in spanish each class.
We hope to see you again soon, Olga.

Its not over 'til its over

This weekend we went back up to minister at Llano Verde it was a wonderful event as always.  It is a small community in the jungle with the church that Clint is pastoring.  The name of the church is La Casa de Immanuel. "God's House". It takes at least 5 or 6 hours to get there, and Clint usually makes the trip 2 to 3 times a month.  The travel is through the mountains on 2 lane highway with lots of semi's and then through farmland with lots of farm trucks etc.  Going there on Saturday, we didn't hit rain until we were there.  The last 45 minutes are on very rough gravel roads which change to slippery red dirt at the last.  Because there were 6 of us, we took the 15-passenger van which is not an off road vehicle.  We had to slide into Victor and Aurora's driveway which is a narrow one through the gate.  We got there by 4:00, just in time to run the power cord from their house down 2 lots to the church.  We held a family meeting in which Clint is teaching on family dynamics and relationships according to the Bible.  The area was holding a 4-wheeler rally as a fund-raiser to try to fix the road.  RV'ers from all over the country attended.  Aurora made homemade tamales to sell to raise more money.  They only got about 30 people and had hoped for 100. During church, there were scads of noisy, very, very muddy ORV's that went by.  The church is open on the road side, and very close to the road, so we could both see and hear them very well.
After church we gathered all of the equipment and took it over to the house, and set up our beds and unloaded the van.  We always stop to buy food, and Victor and Aurora help us out by cooking for us.
Because there were fewer than usual there (none of Clint and Renee's kids went this time) We were able to blow up air mattresses to sleep on.  All six of us slept in the "living room" in a row.
After leftover (from the sale) delicious homemade tamales, spaghetti, and rice we helped to take care of Victor's leg wound. Apparently a cable pulling one of the 4-wheelers had snapped and hit his shin.
He had a nasty cut, which could have used a few stitches.  We put ointment and a some butterfly-type strips on it and gave him some pain meds and an ice pack.  He said it helped.
He was a subject of prayer last weekend as he had been taken to the hospital after being thrown from his horse.  He hit his head, and the MD said he was lucky to be alive as far as he was thrown.
After a good night's sleep, we all awoke pretty early, the howler monkeys, the roosters, the cow's being milked and the daylight with no curtains make for a dawn arising usually.
Victor made some of his cheese with the 10 or so gallons of milk he got.  That is their living.  He makes about $100 a week with it.
He washed a cheese cloth and a large plastic tub and poured the warm milk through the cloth.  Then he added about 10 cc's of the coagulant.  (I forget the term for it).  In about 20 minutes, the milk formed curds.  He dumped off a lot of the whey and used it for the hogs,  next he brought the pail of curd into the house and added salt, mixing it in by hand.  This was put into a cheese-cloth lined mold which had holes in in for drainage. A weight was put on top to help squeeze out more water. This was left for a few hours until a fairly firm cheese was formed. This is queso fresca.  It is delicious fried or crumbled on any dish.
We noticed Victor had quite a bit of blood on his back and questioned him.  His biggest rooster had attacked him getting him pretty deeply on his back and his arm.  He said that the rooster was bound for the stew pot.
Clint had a pistol, and brought it out and handed it to Victor.  The bird was right beside him and it looked like a guaranteed shot.  However when the boom was done the bird was screeching away, and there was a hole in the ground.  He must of hit his tailfeathers.  Clint then went hunting.  He got off several shots, but only came back with a small tree which he had neatly dispatched.  He had trophy in hand, but not bird. 
We joked with Clint about the fact that most pastors don't go shooting chickens before church on Sunday.
We cleaned up and had a great church service.  The amazing rain poured down at one point making it cooler and making us shout to hear.
As it was my birthday, Clint had them sing a spanish version of "Happy Birthday" which was really lovely.  It was a great surprize and sweet of them.
We had a leasuirely packing up after the service, and Kati, decided to stay there in Llano Verde for the next week. She will be living a very basic farm life and will have an intensive spanish course.  Victor and Aurora's son Arsel is taking an English test next week and can use the help in learning from her as well.  It will be a wonderfu experience, but she will have to scramble a bit as she didn't really pack expecting to stay that long.  She is resourceful though.
When we left, we thought all of the adventure for the day was done, not so, however.  We were almost through with the bumpy part of the road, when Clint decided to take another route than usual.  He had been on it before quite some time ago, and wanted us to see something different.  It was evident that it had rained recently there, and the road also went from gravel back to the slippery red, clay dirt.  It also got much more deserted and was pretty hilly and almost washed out in places.  Clint did a great job of getting through some pretty tricky places without us getting stuck.  We had to go up a couple of places sideways. It was remote enough, that we might have walked quite a ways to get help if stuck.
After the road got back to gravel, we were relieved because if we went slow we could get through pretty well where there were big rocks and washouts.
On one steep hill we met a truck and had to back up a ways to find room for both of us to pass.  Clint was informed by the driver that there was a nasty bridge ahead.  The good bridge had mostly been washed out and there were some logs filling the gaps.  Not good news because turning around and going back through the almost impassible road with a poor off-road van seemed like no fun at all.
There was also a good chance of more rain, making it worse.
When we got there he was right.  The passengers got out to "guide" Clint.  To be truthful, we were also chicken to ride the van accross.  The truck driver had come back on a motorcycle to see if we would need help.  He also helped direct the van.  He pointed one way and Dale another. We thought Dale was making the better calls.  So did Clint, and he made it.
After we finally got back to the main road, we hit the pavement pretty quickly.  Then the road was safe once more.  As the sunset approached we could see Arenal, probably the prettiest, most active and famous of Costa Rica's volcanos.  It is rare to see it well as the clouds and rain in the area obsure it frequently.  We got many spectacular pictures.  This was a pretty nice birthday present as well. 
We stopped for icecream, one of our groups' favorite pastimes and stopped at an iguana park.  There are many large iguanas sitting in the tops of trees right by the roadway.  You can get very close to get photos.  The trees are quite tall, like fifty feet, and there are no iguana bodies down below.  They manage to get around in the tree tops just fine.  Then a long winding rainy trip home. 
But not done yet. . .We stoped for a meal at a place where a man, who raises his own pigs, cooked the pork over a BBQ fire for many hours.  We ate pieces of smoked pork with a fresh tortilla.  It was delicious.
To top off a wonderful birthday, Renee and the Wisdom kids were out front when we arrived to sing "Happy Birthday".  They are a large enough group to really make an impact.  It was a party when we went inside with home made cards,  fudge covered cake, and HOME MADE icecream.  I don't think I really have ever had a fuller more wonderful birthday.  Thanks to all. You make my life rich.


The iguanas seemed content to allow us close to take pictures. We were about 5 to 10 feet away.




Victor pouring his milk through a cloth.




I don't think Victor knew that the rooster drew this much blood on his back.
you can almost see the arm puncture which was not as deep 


T


The cheese in the mold weighted with a plate and a rock. The rest of the liquid is being pressed out.




This was the tree that clint hit dead center. Bulls eye.  No escape for this marauder.




Just a hansome fellow watching us on our slippery drive.




We bailed on Clint on this crossing.  The guy trying to help wanted Clint to hug the side with the giant hole.  He didn't though and made it.  The crossing looked pretty wild.




Arenal in glory



God's birthday present

                                                                          XXXOOOXXX.