After a great day at campus helping English classes, taking on making friends with nine students all by myself, and talking with Jess for discipleship, we caught the beginning of the Vida Estudiantil (the equivalent of our CRU) meeting. I was elated to see some of the lovely faces of English students I had invited! We played a great icebreaker that any of you youth workers or generally fun people may want to ask me at a later time. It involved "houses," "renters," and an abundance of "earthquakes." Plus, being in Spanish, the game was naturally more dramatic than it would otherwise be. Please be praying for the students who came for the first time to make connections within the ministry.
After we came back to the hotel, we went to get our laundry. Yesterday, we all dropped off the majority of clothing in our possession at a literal hole in the wall place that was overflowing with laundry baskets and black trash bags of respectively dirty and clean clothing. Laundry is many things: pesky, routine, boring, "important," etc. However, before today, I had never thought of laundry as mysterious. We collected our pre-paid trash bags full of once smelly, now clean and folded garments. Jeremy, being the gentleman that he is, carried my and Ann's laundry for us. He's a gem.
When we got back, we opened our laundered gifts like it was Christmas. There was much shuddering as a garment belonging to Jess was found where but in the bag of Ann. Many questions popped into our heads and promptly flooded out of our mouths. What other mix-ups were there? Who else could have gotten my clothing? Is laundry even necessary? What would happen if I never washed my clothes ever again? What is absolute worst case scenario? Are we being too dramatic?
Those last two questions were answered in the following minutes. To the last question, NO, no we absolutely were not. To the penultimate, we found the answer in a trash bag. The answer was in our room, living and active in the form of an unclaimed pair of underwear. We presented the mystery article to all rooms, and unclaimed it remained. Somehow, and not by any of our own doings, it ended up dwelling upon the handle of the door to our room. As that is the only entrance to our room, we were all faced with the traumatic experience of going in and out of the room without touching the underwear.
While that may be uncomfortable, I may not have sharing the part that makes that worst case scenario. Here it is: Chris is making us take them back. Walking in heat and humidity to be a deliverer of a piece of clothing that someone probably "misplaced" in our basket on purpose is just not how I generally spend my Saturday nights. However, it does give me something to blog about, so there's the silver lining.
This evening was a "Project Fun Night." Thursday nights are designated for the whole team to do activities decided by one of the student rooms. Roomed seven oh crooked six (Ashley, Helen, Megan, and Courtney) had fun night duty for this week. Entonces, we all went down to the Malacon (boardwalk) to see it/the city all lit up and to take pictures. *insert feminine giggling noises*
It was a beautiful evening.
Haunted by the garbage trucks of doom,