Sometimes laughing and dancing are the only things that seem to make sense.
Last night things began to fall into place when we attended a celebration dinner at a local family´s house to praise God for the beginnings of miraculous healing in Jimy, a six-year-old boy who is afflicted with cerebral palsy.
Something changed in both my thought process and my actions last night as I began to catch the vision. As we walked through the barrios on the way to Jimy´s house Hope peered her head over the front gate of Mari´s home and enthusiastically yelled, ¨Mari!¨ Mari, a woman who attends our weekly women´s group, immediately appeared behind the gate and announced that she would be right there once she grabbed her shoes. Apparently word spreads quickly in the barrios because I felt like I was attending a neighborhood block party as people spilled out from within Jimy´s home into the dozens of chairs that lined the street.
As we approached Jimy´s house I was greeted by more than a couple of my students from our English class, two of the pastors from Nueva Vida, a few families from church, two women from our weekly women´s group, mothers and children who attend the preschool class held on the Nueva Vida missionary compound property, and several familiar faces from our visits into the barrios to visit and pray with people.
Everything seemed to be falling into place as I realized that we are truly beginning to build a community that sings, dances, eats and laughs together both inside and outside of the church building.
Once the festivities were over we walked back home under the night sky with Ana and Giovani, a young Nicaraguan family that lives on the Nueva Vida property with us. Ana, who is only five years older than I am, is always a friendly face around the Nueva Vida property but she and I had yet to make any real connection before last night.
The others in our group were walking ahead of us as Ana and I formed a new bond while traipsing over knee-high grass and uneven footing under the dark night sky. I have taken three semesters of Spanish in college thus far, but I could only laugh and ask her to repeat what she was saying as Ana fired one question at me after another. Once she began talking slower, she asked questions about my age, my parents, the United States, what I do back home, and so on.
For some unknown reason she and I were rolling with laughter almost throughout the conversation, and then she asks if I have a husband. I don´t. She asks if I have a boyfriend. I don´t. Slightly confused at this point, she asks if I have any children. I don´t.
Then she proceeds to tell me that when she first met me she thought I was the kind of person to have nine children. She laughs. Deciding to have some fun with what small amount of Spanish I feel comfortable using, I lower my voice in the darkness and respond, ¨I actually do have nine children, but it´s a secret. I don´t like to talk about them because they are bad children. ¨
She is silent. As I continue talking about my secret children she realizes it is a joke and lets out a pure shout of laughter. I have made a friend. She and I continued to laugh and joke during the rest of our walk home, and I promise you it is a night I will never forget.
