Isabela

Isabela and me after a failed attempt at a “selfie”

I’m to the point in my Spanish learning that I’m tired of it. Frankly it hurts my cabeza. A local friend recently asked me when do you get to the point where you understand everything you hear. I told her it's been over a year and it’s not happened yet, but I'd let her know when it does. Don't get me wrong. I love learning a second language. However, living with the second language as my primary form of communication isn't always so enjoyable.

Our staff cook, Isabela, has become dear to me. She’s so patient with me and my 1-yr-old Spanish speaking skills. She doesn’t laugh at my mistakes, unless I laugh first. If I look like I’m not getting it, she’ll say it again in a different way. “Me entiendes?” I become frustrated especially when we’re in the middle of a good story...and she has many. But she won’t go on until I understand.

Today, Isabela asked me how much it costs to fly to the States. I told her in dollars, but she wanted to know in quetzals. Her eyes grew wide and she asked, “Is that there and back?”  I said that it was very expensive for us as well...that’s why we haven't been back to visit. Her train-of-thought makes me smile inside as she asked which place do I like better. Oh, Isabela, how I love you dear woman. I love my homeland, but just as Ruth followed Naomi to a country not her own, so I followed my man to a country not my own. Sure, I miss my family and friends back home...and a few other things. But this is my new home. I love it here so much, but I know its because God has put a love for this place in my heart. I told her we would be here as long as God wants us here. She asked, “Even when you’re old?”, with a little chuckle. And I said, “Yes, Isabela, even when I’m old.”

Isabela has had quite a rough life. But she's not a whiner. She tells me how it was, the good with the bad. She’s one tough woman. She’s been raising her brood of kids all on her own. She doesn’t complain about it. She perseveres. Her daughter will be turning 15 this month. Turning 15 here is a really big deal. Isabela has been planning for this big event for months. Every time she gets something for the big day, she’ll excitedly tell me all about it. It amazes me that in spite of how little she has, how much she spends on this upcoming event. Yet, she doesn't complain about it. She’s so excited. Today, she told me about a big pot she bought from a friend...for the feast for her daughter’s party, of course. I was about as shocked at what she paid for it as she was at what it would cost to fly to the States. In my head, I was thinking, “If I’d known, you could have just borrowed one of our huge pots here in the feeding center.” But then again, she has more daughters turning fifteen.

When I dwell on life here in BV, thinking about the contrasts. I realize that we’re not all that different, she and I. She’s raised a brood of kids. So have I. She has a language barrier in that she can’t read. Mine is learning her language. Neither of us have an abundance of money, but we’re both content and feel abundantly blessed for what God provides for us daily. And we have a secure friendship in each other, mine being rooted in my God who brought me here. And hers I hope and pray to be as well some day.