This morning, after a wonderful giant pancake and after a hostel employee sang JBieb's "Baby" ten and a half times, we left Cuenca. I could have spent a lot more time in that city with its sweater-conducive temperatures, quaint-ness, and mountains. Though the going was not always easy, and sometimes we needed a restroom more desperately than words could describe, and sometimes the driver was lost, and sometimes the driver put on the heat instead of the AC, we made it back home to Guayaquil.
We had down time this afternoon and evening. The streets were alive with the excitement of today's Barcelona game. People were honking out of celebration instead of frustration and their was yellow everywhere you turned. The Malecon was hopping with people of all ages and especially with young children and babies.
Tonight we all gathered in Linsey's room, rejecting each team member until he or she came through the door in proper llama sweater attire. We sang songs of praise, whistled our hearts out, and prayed together. Chris hit a milestone with his first real whistle escaping his pulled-out lower lip. We prayed over our last week on campus. Since I just mentioned that in passing, I am going to take this moment to point out that this is our LAST week on campus. That is terrifying.
Pray for us as we go out this week, that we would really be able to help connect long-time and recent believers to the movements at UG and ESPOL. It will be a difficult week of sharing, investing, and of goodbyes to people that we have gotten to know over the last month.