Today was hooooooooooottttttt. I woke up late...again...like 1-ish. Didn't go outside or even see a ray of sunlight till about 5. I stepped out the door and bam...it was still uber hot. I couldn't believe just how hot it was though, seriously...I walked to my trailer, and it was sooooooooooo hot in there. Then Kelcie came over and we just hung out and talked for awhile. Totally unmotivated to anything whatsoever, least of which would be get up and walk all the way to church. What a chore that turns out to be when it's this hot.
Really...the only news I have for today is something I just thought was funny from yesterday. Cultural thing...growing up at the mission thing...being young thing...I'm not sure. But yesterday, I was walking over to the soccer field, and this girl from Casa 6 stopped and reminded me that I was supposed to show her my family photos. so i stopped, turned around, and retrieved my pictures and computer so I could show her what I had. Not a whole lot of pictures, just a couple of my brothers, and some of my friends. After we'd gone through them all, she explained that "she wanted to ask me something, but didn't know how."
So she's start..."I was wondering, and only if you want to..." and then she start nervously laughing, and stop. And then say she's really nervous. And not finish the question. And then start up again, and then not finish. Again. "I'm too nervous," she'd say. And then I started getting nervous! What could possibly be so big that she was getting nervous just by starting to talk about it?? And she hadn't even gotten to the point yet! So I waited...and waited...and she can jumping back and forth between about to say something, and too nervous to say anything more. Finally...she made me hold up my computer in between us so I couldn't see her while she asked it (finally). Eventually, she said, "I was wondering, and ONLY if you want to, and ONLY if you're fine with it, but it's fine of you don't want to, but I was wondering if you would give me your email address."
I was like....phew!! I thought she'd lit my trailer on fire, or was asking to marry my brother (who she's in love with). Something extreme. But nope...my email. I twas so strange to me to see someone struggle that hard to ask for an email address. I could see if it was like a social security number. Maybe a personal phone number that only the president used. But that struck me as intriguing. At how mainstream and global email is to me, where I readily post my email address on the Internet (look to your right) without a second thought. And down here...it's still a big deal (at least at the mission), cause Internet here at the mission is relatively new, within the past few years at least. Anywho...it was just so funny watching her build it up to that. An email address. I told her, well, I have like 4, which one do you want? That's how bad it's getting haha. Whatevers...I don't really know where I'm going with this. i just thought it was hilarious. And I definitely had a laugh over it. And maybe I'm just looking for anything to blog about. Probably. Sounds like a plan. but TJ next week. that should be a fun-filled week, with video cameras, video updates, and too much time reformatting and fixing computers.
Can't wait!!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Saturday, April 18, 2009
BEDA - April 18th
Today, I got up at 2pm...and I have a perfectly good reason for that. So now bashing it. Yesterday, after the soccer tournament, we went to get food, and I'm not sure what the exact time was, but I would say somewhere around 6 or 6:30. It was still plenty light out, and it was still hot. SO I'm going to go with somewhere right around 6-ish. The drive from Ensenada back to Vicente Guerrero is somewhere between a 2 to 2.5 hours drive. Not any more. So let's do the math, shall we??
Estimated Departure time: 6:30
Estimated Trip Duration: 2.5 hours
Estimated Time Arrival: 9:00 PM
Actual Time Arrival: 12:15 AM
Actual Time Arrival Repeated: 12:15 AM WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED?!?!?!?!?!?! WHY SO LATE?!?!?!
I'll tell you. First, between Ensenada and Vicente Guerrero, there is this huge mountain range. Which essentially is...in the middle of nowhere. Every once in awhile, you'll see a little village, and occasionally, a bigger town. But up in the mountain part of the 2 hour drive, there's generally nothing. And guess what happened when we were on that part of the road? We broke down. Our big yellow bus full of kids broke down. It was great, stuck on the side of the road, in the pitch blackness of night. All the little younglings (younger than you, Karissa) were utterly freaking out. i was trying to sleep on the way home, so I was comfortably in my seat, and every 20 seconds, a new little kid would come bang on me and try to get me to help fix the bus. Like I know anything about fixing a bus. All the other kids were out on the road trying to wave cars down (which proved highly unsuccessful, considering that after about an hour, not a single car stopped). It was quite amusing though, watching the difference in reactions from the older kids to the younger ones. The older ones were having a blast with it, standing out by the road trying to wave down semis easily going 80 MPH. The bus would shake every time one went by. Who knows why, but for some reason, a little after we'd been sitting there for an hour, a police car drove by, turned around, and talked with our driver for awhile. Of course, in epic Mexican style, all 20 of us kids outside get the policeman in the passenger seat to get out and pose for a picture with everyone in front of his flashing vehicle. To say the least, he did not look excited at all. Apparently that's not part of their job description here. Whatevs. He liked it. Now he's famous. So that policeman called a mechanic and left, so we waited for awhile longer to wait for the mechanic to get there. Finally, he showed up, did a little tinkering with who knows what. It started up, and we followed him back to his shop. Once there, we waited awhile longer while he did what mechanics do best. We got back on the road, and fro there on, stopped every 20 minutes or so. I still have yet to figure out why. We just pulled over for a few minutes, and then started driving again.
Come 12:15 AM we finally parked back at the mission. I don't know where all the time went...but it was a freakishly long drive. And I was sunburned. And tired. And sore. Aaaaand I got a huge cramp right at the end of our last game. It was not pleasant. Iw as so ready to be home. It was just great.
Great day in Ensenada, but I was happy to be home.
Estimated Departure time: 6:30
Estimated Trip Duration: 2.5 hours
Estimated Time Arrival: 9:00 PM
Actual Time Arrival: 12:15 AM
Actual Time Arrival Repeated: 12:15 AM WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED?!?!?!?!?!?! WHY SO LATE?!?!?!
I'll tell you. First, between Ensenada and Vicente Guerrero, there is this huge mountain range. Which essentially is...in the middle of nowhere. Every once in awhile, you'll see a little village, and occasionally, a bigger town. But up in the mountain part of the 2 hour drive, there's generally nothing. And guess what happened when we were on that part of the road? We broke down. Our big yellow bus full of kids broke down. It was great, stuck on the side of the road, in the pitch blackness of night. All the little younglings (younger than you, Karissa) were utterly freaking out. i was trying to sleep on the way home, so I was comfortably in my seat, and every 20 seconds, a new little kid would come bang on me and try to get me to help fix the bus. Like I know anything about fixing a bus. All the other kids were out on the road trying to wave cars down (which proved highly unsuccessful, considering that after about an hour, not a single car stopped). It was quite amusing though, watching the difference in reactions from the older kids to the younger ones. The older ones were having a blast with it, standing out by the road trying to wave down semis easily going 80 MPH. The bus would shake every time one went by. Who knows why, but for some reason, a little after we'd been sitting there for an hour, a police car drove by, turned around, and talked with our driver for awhile. Of course, in epic Mexican style, all 20 of us kids outside get the policeman in the passenger seat to get out and pose for a picture with everyone in front of his flashing vehicle. To say the least, he did not look excited at all. Apparently that's not part of their job description here. Whatevs. He liked it. Now he's famous. So that policeman called a mechanic and left, so we waited for awhile longer to wait for the mechanic to get there. Finally, he showed up, did a little tinkering with who knows what. It started up, and we followed him back to his shop. Once there, we waited awhile longer while he did what mechanics do best. We got back on the road, and fro there on, stopped every 20 minutes or so. I still have yet to figure out why. We just pulled over for a few minutes, and then started driving again.
Come 12:15 AM we finally parked back at the mission. I don't know where all the time went...but it was a freakishly long drive. And I was sunburned. And tired. And sore. Aaaaand I got a huge cramp right at the end of our last game. It was not pleasant. Iw as so ready to be home. It was just great.
Great day in Ensenada, but I was happy to be home.
Friday, April 17, 2009
BEDA - April 17th
So today was our big soccer tournament in Ensenada. And boy, what a tournament it was. OK, well, to start off with this update of the tourny, I'm going to give you a backstory, cause well, it demands a backstory. So here goes:
First things first, my first real trip to Mexico was four years ago ("real" meaning I came once with my grandparents when I was 5 for vacation...hardly remember much of it. And also, Mexico for vacation is exponentially different than Mexico for missions trips, which is also exponentially different than Mexico for living.) So, four years ago, I went to Mexico with all my home schooled friends (Eli, Wes, Colby, Brandon) and a group of about 30 or so. We went to this little orphanage north of Ensenada called Miracle Ranch, up in the mountains, and yeah, just really small. Like 30-40 kids I'd say. They get groups there during the summer, and before I was old enough, our church's high school youth would send a group down there during the summer. My oldest brother actually spent a couple months there after he graduated.
Anyways, so we were there for a week, and it was just such an amazing week. They were addicted to soccer, and they were the first real representation of what I've just known for years, and most people do: "Mexicans are just amazing soccer players from the day they're born." I just had that mindset, they're good, I'm not. They're Mexican, I'm American. I really looked up to them. And the kids just really impacted me. I loved them. I got to know this kid named Alberto really well, and he was the king soccer player of the orphanage. We were great friends, and when it came time for us to leave, I was so sad. I was going to miss this kid, and everyone else. And they were happy, despite their living conditions. I was hardly happy in my living conditions, and I had so much. It was ridiculous.
Anywho, so we left, and I went back pretty changed. Couldn't wait for the next summer, when we planned on going back again. Fast forward. The next summer, we get there, and I'm so excited to see Alberto again, I basically run in there, cruise around everyone looking all over for him. No where to be seen. Turns out, he got sent away, to an all-boys orphanage in Tijuana (I was told it had to do with him bringing back pornographic material from school and showing it to the young ones). I was sooooooo upset. But I got over it. All the other kids were still there, and I got to know them really well. A lot of them. They were all just so amazing. We played soccer together ALL THE TIME! These two kids, brothers, played with me every second they could. They were small, like 12 or 13, but they were so good. When I had to leave at the end of the week, obviously, it was heart-breaking. Thinking I'd see them again though, next summer, made it seem a little better. I still didn't want to leave. Those kids really have an impact on anyone who goes in there. But, as fate would have it, sometime after we left, the head guy at the orphanage got involved in some sort of embezzlement or something. He needed money to change the title of the mission, and he got it, but didn't use it on that. So he asked again and didn't use it on that again, and yeah. Big scandal of sorts. I don't really know what went down, that's all just stuff I've heard since it happened. So we didn't go back. Eli's mom, Carol (the leader of our mission groups), didn't want to be involved with that sort of thing, and we didn't feel it be right to go work at an orphanage who's leaders were getting into this kind of stuff. I don't know what it all turned out to be, but we didn't go back. And to this day, still haven't. Also, to get to where I am now, in Vicente Guerrero, you have to drive by Miracle Ranch. It's about half an hour of the highway I take to get here, but I still haven't been able to head out there. After that scandal, it's just kinda had a bad feel about it. But those kids...still loved them to death. They were stuck in my mind forever, as being the first Mexicans I'd met, loved, and missed. When I thought of stylish, mind-blowing Mexican soccer, I thought of them. They were anything and everything I knew of "Mexico." You can understand then how upset I was that I wouldn't be going back there again.
Two Decembers ago, I came here (where I am now, FFHM...three hours south), drove by Miracle Ranch, and fell in love with this place...not so much because of the kids this time, but that's changed now. They're most of the reason I'm staying now. Anywho, so I kinda accepted the fact I'd never see my Miracle Ranch buddies again, and that these kids here are my new Mexican friends, and well, living with them for so long, they've kinda become my Mexicans haha. Before, when I thought of anything Mexican, I immediately thought of them, the Miracle Ranchers. Now it's these people here. But not like it's a bad thing, I've just spent so much more time here. That's why.
Zoom forward to yesterday. The child services/orphanage department of the Mexican government put together this big soccer tournament for all the orphanages in the surrounding areas of Ensensada. We're over two hours away, so you can imagine that can include a lot of orphanages. Before going, I didn't even know what it was I was participating in. All I was told is that there was a soccer tournament on Friday, wanna come? Of course. All I needed to hear was "soccer" and I was in. I just thought it was some random tournament for anyone invited. Not so. We got there, and they told me it was just for orphanage kids and stuff. Orphanage tournament. And boy, there were TONS of kids there. A good 150-200. And, since I didn't know that this was just for orphanages, the fact that Miracle Ranch kids would be there never even so much as hinted at crossing my mind. Also, after being here in Vicente Guerrero so long...sadly, those kids had started to fade from my mind, being replaced by the kids here. I'd figured I'd never seen them again, so I guess I let them fade. But as we were standing in line at the beginning of the tournament, they announced all the teams that were present. I don't know what I heard, maybe my hearing is screwed up, maybe the sound waves were messed up at the position I was standing, or, maybe God made me hear it. I don't know, but somehow, I thought I heard the announcer say Miracle Ranch. And I started freaking out. The thought that they were here first crossed my mind. Orphanages. Soccer. Ensenada. It all made sense. They COULD be here. But I didn't want to just get my hopes up. I immediately went around to all my friends, Spanish speakers, to ask them what he just said. Did he say Miracle Ranch? What did he say a minute ago? Everyone I asked said no. No, he didn't say that. Then what did he say? I don't know. No one knew what he said. But now the thought that they might be here started boiling around in my mind. Could this be true? I started looking around at everyone. I didn't recognize anyone. Also, they'd be three years older, who know what they look like now. The day went on.
We sat around for awhile, watching soccer, waiting for our first game. We were sitting on the stands, watching the game right before ours, and this group of kids came over and waited with us. And I'm watching them, still on the lookout for a familiar face...and I spotted a kid that maybe could be someone I know. Looked familiar enough, even if I had taken into account the fact they'd be three years older. Then again, most Mexicans look alike as it is, trying to imagine how one would look after three years is a little difficult. But I had my eyes on him, watching him all over the place. The leader guy with their group came walking in front of us, and on his way back, I told one of the guys with us to ask him which orphanage he was from. He said Casa de Paz. House of Peace. And that made me sad, not peaceful. I was so set on that kid being from Miracle Ranch. Deep down, I was still kinda set on him being the kid I was looking for, from the orphanage I was looking for, anything. Maybe he got sent away like Alberto, and was now living at Casa de Paz. Maybe...I don't know, anything. I was just thinking up ways that explained how he could be from Miracle Ranch, how I knew him, how I had played soccer with him, how I'd loved him, and how I'd missed him. I watched him as he went back to his group of kids, and I saw this other kid who looked vaguely familiar. Could it be? Still no assurance. And then I saw this kid who finalized it for me. He hadn't changed a bit. Looked exactly the same. I knew it was him. His name was Brandon. And I knew that because at one of the meals three years ago at Miracle Ranch, he had got down on his knees and imitated my friend Colby proposing to one of the girls there. It was the funniest thing. We were talking about it for ages. And when I saw him there at the soccer game, I knew it was him the instant I saw him. I walked over to the group standing there, and asked the leader if he spoke English. He said yes, and I go, "Is this kid's name Brandon?"
.....
"Yes."
And I asked if they were from Miracle Ranch. He said yes. But they'd changed their name to Casa de Paz. It all made sense now. And I pointed out everyone who looked familiar to me, kept seeing more and more now that I knew they were there and he confirmed them all, then told me everyone else that was from there. It was...difficult. My heart was melting. I was shaking. He was just like...who are you, creepo, and why do you know my kids? Not quite, but I'm sure he was thinking it. So I told him my story and how I knew these kids. And he seemed thoroughly unimpressed. Didn't really have anything to say, or ask. Obviously this wasn't as big a deal to him as it was to me. Our conversation ended, and I went back and explained to my group. They were amazed. More so than their group leader guy at least. And guess what?? Who were we poised up against to play first? My Miracle Ranch buddies (we won). After that, one of the kids yelled my name, and came and talked to me for awhile. He spoke English really well, and went through a bunch of names and asked if I remembered them. Esmeralda? Yep. Omar? Yep. And....Alberto...(awwwww). YEP! And yeah, I told him I remembered him, and he said he remembered me as well. It was amazing. Totally unexpected.
I didn't go there with the slightest hint I'd see them. I went to play soccer with my FFHM buddies. But seeing Miracle Ranch there really, basically, made my year. Or, really, made my last three years.
As for the rest of the tournament, we ended up tying for first. But at the same time...placing second. In soccer, points are allotted like so: 3 points for a win, 1 point for a tie, 0 points for a loss. Team with the most points at the end wins. We won 3 games, and tied one, giving us 10 points. Turns out, another team ended up with 10 points as well, making the tie for first place. So, when that happens, you go to goal differentials. You're tied on the points scale, so now you duke it out over goals scored. Whoever scored more goals vs. goals scored on them, takes the crown. The other team had a better goal differential - scored more goals/had less goals scored on them. So they took first place. We argued and argued with them to let us play a tiebreaker with them (essentially stopping at our 10-points-a-piece tie, and not go to goal differential. So, saying we're tied at 10 points, and playing a tiebreaking game to decide the winner, instead of the goals). But they wouldn't have any of it. They just wanted to take their crown and leave. Whatever...we were first in our hearts hahaha. Is that a saying? I don't think so. But I just made it one. Is that selfish? Yeah, probably.
Anywhoozles.
That is just about it...I have some pictures of the tournament though, courtesy of Deborah. Thanks a ton! And thanks for coming to watch, and dealing with weirdo fans/moms!
Schoolin' him in his backyard.
My little Oscar.
Juancita and Chew-Chew
I taught them our Summer Breeze game called Stand In A Circle And Try To Get The Ball In The Garbage Can While Juggling With Only Two Touches. I'm pretty proud of that name.
Our team awaiting a kickoff.
Discussing intense strategies of how we can demolish our enemies. After much debate, we decided it would be best to do that by scoring lots of goals. And we did.
My Miracle Ranch buddies and me. And Giovani (orange).
More Miracle Ranch buddies.
Teaching Jorge my game.
First things first, my first real trip to Mexico was four years ago ("real" meaning I came once with my grandparents when I was 5 for vacation...hardly remember much of it. And also, Mexico for vacation is exponentially different than Mexico for missions trips, which is also exponentially different than Mexico for living.) So, four years ago, I went to Mexico with all my home schooled friends (Eli, Wes, Colby, Brandon) and a group of about 30 or so. We went to this little orphanage north of Ensenada called Miracle Ranch, up in the mountains, and yeah, just really small. Like 30-40 kids I'd say. They get groups there during the summer, and before I was old enough, our church's high school youth would send a group down there during the summer. My oldest brother actually spent a couple months there after he graduated.
Anyways, so we were there for a week, and it was just such an amazing week. They were addicted to soccer, and they were the first real representation of what I've just known for years, and most people do: "Mexicans are just amazing soccer players from the day they're born." I just had that mindset, they're good, I'm not. They're Mexican, I'm American. I really looked up to them. And the kids just really impacted me. I loved them. I got to know this kid named Alberto really well, and he was the king soccer player of the orphanage. We were great friends, and when it came time for us to leave, I was so sad. I was going to miss this kid, and everyone else. And they were happy, despite their living conditions. I was hardly happy in my living conditions, and I had so much. It was ridiculous.
Anywho, so we left, and I went back pretty changed. Couldn't wait for the next summer, when we planned on going back again. Fast forward. The next summer, we get there, and I'm so excited to see Alberto again, I basically run in there, cruise around everyone looking all over for him. No where to be seen. Turns out, he got sent away, to an all-boys orphanage in Tijuana (I was told it had to do with him bringing back pornographic material from school and showing it to the young ones). I was sooooooo upset. But I got over it. All the other kids were still there, and I got to know them really well. A lot of them. They were all just so amazing. We played soccer together ALL THE TIME! These two kids, brothers, played with me every second they could. They were small, like 12 or 13, but they were so good. When I had to leave at the end of the week, obviously, it was heart-breaking. Thinking I'd see them again though, next summer, made it seem a little better. I still didn't want to leave. Those kids really have an impact on anyone who goes in there. But, as fate would have it, sometime after we left, the head guy at the orphanage got involved in some sort of embezzlement or something. He needed money to change the title of the mission, and he got it, but didn't use it on that. So he asked again and didn't use it on that again, and yeah. Big scandal of sorts. I don't really know what went down, that's all just stuff I've heard since it happened. So we didn't go back. Eli's mom, Carol (the leader of our mission groups), didn't want to be involved with that sort of thing, and we didn't feel it be right to go work at an orphanage who's leaders were getting into this kind of stuff. I don't know what it all turned out to be, but we didn't go back. And to this day, still haven't. Also, to get to where I am now, in Vicente Guerrero, you have to drive by Miracle Ranch. It's about half an hour of the highway I take to get here, but I still haven't been able to head out there. After that scandal, it's just kinda had a bad feel about it. But those kids...still loved them to death. They were stuck in my mind forever, as being the first Mexicans I'd met, loved, and missed. When I thought of stylish, mind-blowing Mexican soccer, I thought of them. They were anything and everything I knew of "Mexico." You can understand then how upset I was that I wouldn't be going back there again.
Two Decembers ago, I came here (where I am now, FFHM...three hours south), drove by Miracle Ranch, and fell in love with this place...not so much because of the kids this time, but that's changed now. They're most of the reason I'm staying now. Anywho, so I kinda accepted the fact I'd never see my Miracle Ranch buddies again, and that these kids here are my new Mexican friends, and well, living with them for so long, they've kinda become my Mexicans haha. Before, when I thought of anything Mexican, I immediately thought of them, the Miracle Ranchers. Now it's these people here. But not like it's a bad thing, I've just spent so much more time here. That's why.
Zoom forward to yesterday. The child services/orphanage department of the Mexican government put together this big soccer tournament for all the orphanages in the surrounding areas of Ensensada. We're over two hours away, so you can imagine that can include a lot of orphanages. Before going, I didn't even know what it was I was participating in. All I was told is that there was a soccer tournament on Friday, wanna come? Of course. All I needed to hear was "soccer" and I was in. I just thought it was some random tournament for anyone invited. Not so. We got there, and they told me it was just for orphanage kids and stuff. Orphanage tournament. And boy, there were TONS of kids there. A good 150-200. And, since I didn't know that this was just for orphanages, the fact that Miracle Ranch kids would be there never even so much as hinted at crossing my mind. Also, after being here in Vicente Guerrero so long...sadly, those kids had started to fade from my mind, being replaced by the kids here. I'd figured I'd never seen them again, so I guess I let them fade. But as we were standing in line at the beginning of the tournament, they announced all the teams that were present. I don't know what I heard, maybe my hearing is screwed up, maybe the sound waves were messed up at the position I was standing, or, maybe God made me hear it. I don't know, but somehow, I thought I heard the announcer say Miracle Ranch. And I started freaking out. The thought that they were here first crossed my mind. Orphanages. Soccer. Ensenada. It all made sense. They COULD be here. But I didn't want to just get my hopes up. I immediately went around to all my friends, Spanish speakers, to ask them what he just said. Did he say Miracle Ranch? What did he say a minute ago? Everyone I asked said no. No, he didn't say that. Then what did he say? I don't know. No one knew what he said. But now the thought that they might be here started boiling around in my mind. Could this be true? I started looking around at everyone. I didn't recognize anyone. Also, they'd be three years older, who know what they look like now. The day went on.
We sat around for awhile, watching soccer, waiting for our first game. We were sitting on the stands, watching the game right before ours, and this group of kids came over and waited with us. And I'm watching them, still on the lookout for a familiar face...and I spotted a kid that maybe could be someone I know. Looked familiar enough, even if I had taken into account the fact they'd be three years older. Then again, most Mexicans look alike as it is, trying to imagine how one would look after three years is a little difficult. But I had my eyes on him, watching him all over the place. The leader guy with their group came walking in front of us, and on his way back, I told one of the guys with us to ask him which orphanage he was from. He said Casa de Paz. House of Peace. And that made me sad, not peaceful. I was so set on that kid being from Miracle Ranch. Deep down, I was still kinda set on him being the kid I was looking for, from the orphanage I was looking for, anything. Maybe he got sent away like Alberto, and was now living at Casa de Paz. Maybe...I don't know, anything. I was just thinking up ways that explained how he could be from Miracle Ranch, how I knew him, how I had played soccer with him, how I'd loved him, and how I'd missed him. I watched him as he went back to his group of kids, and I saw this other kid who looked vaguely familiar. Could it be? Still no assurance. And then I saw this kid who finalized it for me. He hadn't changed a bit. Looked exactly the same. I knew it was him. His name was Brandon. And I knew that because at one of the meals three years ago at Miracle Ranch, he had got down on his knees and imitated my friend Colby proposing to one of the girls there. It was the funniest thing. We were talking about it for ages. And when I saw him there at the soccer game, I knew it was him the instant I saw him. I walked over to the group standing there, and asked the leader if he spoke English. He said yes, and I go, "Is this kid's name Brandon?"
.....
"Yes."
And I asked if they were from Miracle Ranch. He said yes. But they'd changed their name to Casa de Paz. It all made sense now. And I pointed out everyone who looked familiar to me, kept seeing more and more now that I knew they were there and he confirmed them all, then told me everyone else that was from there. It was...difficult. My heart was melting. I was shaking. He was just like...who are you, creepo, and why do you know my kids? Not quite, but I'm sure he was thinking it. So I told him my story and how I knew these kids. And he seemed thoroughly unimpressed. Didn't really have anything to say, or ask. Obviously this wasn't as big a deal to him as it was to me. Our conversation ended, and I went back and explained to my group. They were amazed. More so than their group leader guy at least. And guess what?? Who were we poised up against to play first? My Miracle Ranch buddies (we won). After that, one of the kids yelled my name, and came and talked to me for awhile. He spoke English really well, and went through a bunch of names and asked if I remembered them. Esmeralda? Yep. Omar? Yep. And....Alberto...(awwwww). YEP! And yeah, I told him I remembered him, and he said he remembered me as well. It was amazing. Totally unexpected.
I didn't go there with the slightest hint I'd see them. I went to play soccer with my FFHM buddies. But seeing Miracle Ranch there really, basically, made my year. Or, really, made my last three years.
As for the rest of the tournament, we ended up tying for first. But at the same time...placing second. In soccer, points are allotted like so: 3 points for a win, 1 point for a tie, 0 points for a loss. Team with the most points at the end wins. We won 3 games, and tied one, giving us 10 points. Turns out, another team ended up with 10 points as well, making the tie for first place. So, when that happens, you go to goal differentials. You're tied on the points scale, so now you duke it out over goals scored. Whoever scored more goals vs. goals scored on them, takes the crown. The other team had a better goal differential - scored more goals/had less goals scored on them. So they took first place. We argued and argued with them to let us play a tiebreaker with them (essentially stopping at our 10-points-a-piece tie, and not go to goal differential. So, saying we're tied at 10 points, and playing a tiebreaking game to decide the winner, instead of the goals). But they wouldn't have any of it. They just wanted to take their crown and leave. Whatever...we were first in our hearts hahaha. Is that a saying? I don't think so. But I just made it one. Is that selfish? Yeah, probably.
Anywhoozles.
That is just about it...I have some pictures of the tournament though, courtesy of Deborah. Thanks a ton! And thanks for coming to watch, and dealing with weirdo fans/moms!
Schoolin' him in his backyard.
My little Oscar.
Juancita and Chew-Chew
I taught them our Summer Breeze game called Stand In A Circle And Try To Get The Ball In The Garbage Can While Juggling With Only Two Touches. I'm pretty proud of that name.
Our team awaiting a kickoff.
Discussing intense strategies of how we can demolish our enemies. After much debate, we decided it would be best to do that by scoring lots of goals. And we did.
My Miracle Ranch buddies and me. And Giovani (orange).
More Miracle Ranch buddies.
Teaching Jorge my game.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
BEDA - April 16th
Ahhh, hello Thursday.
Quite a relaxing day overall.
Kevin got back late last night, so we weren't really in the mood for jumping right back into the everyday work schedule. I worked for awhile on cleaning up my hard drive. I'm still running Windows 7 Ultimate on Kevin's 160 GB hard drive, while my 250GB drive sits unused...oh, poor Vista. But, I've had Kevin's drive too long, I'm running dangerously low on drive space, and I'll be getting my camera this week (and HD video takes up quite a bit of hard drive space). I spent most of the morning cleaning it, got all my files/videos/pictures off it, and now it's ready for formatting. Then, I have to Ghost my current drive (Ghosting is basically taking the exact configuration of my hard drive, copying it, and then putting it on a new hard drive). In short, taking everything I have on Kevin's drive and putting it on my drive, so I can give his drive back to him. Pretty extreme process though...cause last time I checked, copying 158GB of data takes a LONG TIME! I don't look forward to that. but it must be done. And I've heard rumors of Ghost corrupting the files, which makes me uncomfortable. I have a very VERY customized computer, I'm scared it won't turn out exactly the way I have it now. Scary stuff. Also kinda wrong that that's the most worrying thing of my week haha. Uh oh. Well, I guess that will be the end of my hard drive update. Save all you non-nerds from leaving right away.
The rest of the day, Kevin and I discussed everything from old school PC games to...new school PC games. Our conclusions? SimCity 2000. Most epic old school game. And then I really missed paying that, cause that was like THE GAME of my generation. I remember the day my dad brought that home for us. Totally surprised us. What was that, like 1997? 1998? We were addicted. that game was a revelation. There was nothing else like it at the time, so futuristic. I miss the days of 50 MB games that loaded in a minute and didn't require CD keys and serial numbers. You just loaded the CD, clicked install, and it did as it was told. You were playing in a matter of a couple minutes. Now you've got 4, 5, even 8 GB games that take hours to load, require four CD keys, and then once it starts installing, it lets you know that you need a new computer to run the game. Ahhh, thanks hi-tech.
So later that night, I (quickly) downloaded and installed SimCity 2000. I swore to myself that I'd write my blog and play the piano before I started playing the game. I went back to my trailer to eat first...then...played SimCity for four hours. So much for the blog and piano idea. Once I started playing, I couldn't stop. Oh how I missed that game. It's so simple and sleek. The most important thing though is that even to this day, it's still an amazing game. In the midst of Crysis and Half Life and Portal and Battlefield, SimCity 2000 is still owning. Not to mention Total Annihilation. Still, as always, my all-time most favorite game. I remember the day my cousin showed that to me at his house. He was working for Cavedog at the time (the company producing that game), and was discussing the system requirements for the game. From what it looked like, our current computer couldn't handle the game. Which made me sad. And my cousin convinced my dad that it wasn't deadly and violent, cause it's just robots blowing up robots. Nothing else. And man, watching him play that game made me want it so bad. Back in when it was first released, it was the 1997 Game of the Year (whoever gave it that is smart). That Christmas, my cousin surprised us with a big box under our tree. What was it? Total Annihilation? Almost. It was total Annihilation AND not one, but two expansion packs. We played that for years. Even up through high school, we'd still pull it out every once in awhile and go through little spurts of Total Annihilation. So, of course, I'm downloading that right now. I need a fix of Total Annihilation. It's been awhile.
To end my Thursday, I played soccer for quite awhile, cause tomorrow, I am going up to Ensenada to play in a soccer tournament. Should be a blast. Soccer always is. And with Mexicans? No doubt. Hopefully we'll come back with a trophy.
It's time to go eat now though, so I'll leave you with this uber nerdy, slightly PC game-saturated update. Until tomorrow!
Thobinator
Quite a relaxing day overall.
Kevin got back late last night, so we weren't really in the mood for jumping right back into the everyday work schedule. I worked for awhile on cleaning up my hard drive. I'm still running Windows 7 Ultimate on Kevin's 160 GB hard drive, while my 250GB drive sits unused...oh, poor Vista. But, I've had Kevin's drive too long, I'm running dangerously low on drive space, and I'll be getting my camera this week (and HD video takes up quite a bit of hard drive space). I spent most of the morning cleaning it, got all my files/videos/pictures off it, and now it's ready for formatting. Then, I have to Ghost my current drive (Ghosting is basically taking the exact configuration of my hard drive, copying it, and then putting it on a new hard drive). In short, taking everything I have on Kevin's drive and putting it on my drive, so I can give his drive back to him. Pretty extreme process though...cause last time I checked, copying 158GB of data takes a LONG TIME! I don't look forward to that. but it must be done. And I've heard rumors of Ghost corrupting the files, which makes me uncomfortable. I have a very VERY customized computer, I'm scared it won't turn out exactly the way I have it now. Scary stuff. Also kinda wrong that that's the most worrying thing of my week haha. Uh oh. Well, I guess that will be the end of my hard drive update. Save all you non-nerds from leaving right away.
The rest of the day, Kevin and I discussed everything from old school PC games to...new school PC games. Our conclusions? SimCity 2000. Most epic old school game. And then I really missed paying that, cause that was like THE GAME of my generation. I remember the day my dad brought that home for us. Totally surprised us. What was that, like 1997? 1998? We were addicted. that game was a revelation. There was nothing else like it at the time, so futuristic. I miss the days of 50 MB games that loaded in a minute and didn't require CD keys and serial numbers. You just loaded the CD, clicked install, and it did as it was told. You were playing in a matter of a couple minutes. Now you've got 4, 5, even 8 GB games that take hours to load, require four CD keys, and then once it starts installing, it lets you know that you need a new computer to run the game. Ahhh, thanks hi-tech.
So later that night, I (quickly) downloaded and installed SimCity 2000. I swore to myself that I'd write my blog and play the piano before I started playing the game. I went back to my trailer to eat first...then...played SimCity for four hours. So much for the blog and piano idea. Once I started playing, I couldn't stop. Oh how I missed that game. It's so simple and sleek. The most important thing though is that even to this day, it's still an amazing game. In the midst of Crysis and Half Life and Portal and Battlefield, SimCity 2000 is still owning. Not to mention Total Annihilation. Still, as always, my all-time most favorite game. I remember the day my cousin showed that to me at his house. He was working for Cavedog at the time (the company producing that game), and was discussing the system requirements for the game. From what it looked like, our current computer couldn't handle the game. Which made me sad. And my cousin convinced my dad that it wasn't deadly and violent, cause it's just robots blowing up robots. Nothing else. And man, watching him play that game made me want it so bad. Back in when it was first released, it was the 1997 Game of the Year (whoever gave it that is smart). That Christmas, my cousin surprised us with a big box under our tree. What was it? Total Annihilation? Almost. It was total Annihilation AND not one, but two expansion packs. We played that for years. Even up through high school, we'd still pull it out every once in awhile and go through little spurts of Total Annihilation. So, of course, I'm downloading that right now. I need a fix of Total Annihilation. It's been awhile.
To end my Thursday, I played soccer for quite awhile, cause tomorrow, I am going up to Ensenada to play in a soccer tournament. Should be a blast. Soccer always is. And with Mexicans? No doubt. Hopefully we'll come back with a trophy.
It's time to go eat now though, so I'll leave you with this uber nerdy, slightly PC game-saturated update. Until tomorrow!
Thobinator
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
BEDA - April 15th
Basically....this is going to be uber darn short.
Today's exciting event was the garbage run. And getting stuck there. First, the House 7 boys have school off this week, so 4 of them came with me. Obviously, a blast. We can see the dump from the mission actually, up on the hill behind us, and all morning, smoke was just billowing out of it like I've never seen. When we got there, they had us drive to the top of the dump...right through the smoke, and right TOWARDS the smoke. Couldn't see a bloody thing going through it. Once we got up there, I backed into position where the guy told me to go, and we all got out to start unloading our garbage.
Then, just like in the movies, this other guy who works there comes out of nowhere, walking through the smoke in some epically dramatic entrance. Walking out of the flames. It was quite cool. But it didn't stay quite cool, cause he was the one that came and told us that we couldn't dump there and that we needed to go back down the hill clear to the other side of the dump. Yeah, whatever, not that far. Except, very far when you've got a huge plume of smoke in your way. We tried for like 20 minutes, there was no way we were getting through. I made a couple attempts, nothing. Couldn't see a foot in front of me. And to add to that, the truck would quickly fill up with un-breathable smoke. Not normal fire smoke. This was a month's worth of trash from an entire city they were burning. Who knows what could've gone in there. Heck, we could've been breathing in a former body, no one knows. That's kind of a nasty thought though..I hope that's not true.
So...we waited...and waited...and waited. Eventually the wind blew the smoke to one side for no more than a couple seconds, giving us enough time to see where the road was, and the truck waiting in front of us gunned it. I had to follow them within a foot or so the whole way down just to see his tail lights. I was hoping he knew where the rest of the road went, cause I couldn't see a darned thing, let alone his own truck. It was pretty epic indeed. Can't say I've seen that amount of concentrated smoke in quite awhile. Maybe 9/11? That might have been the last time...I don't know. It was bad though.
The waiting at the dump was fine though, having the House 7 boys there was well worth it..so entertaining. As always.
Lastly, I've picked out my camera, just need to give my parentals the OK, and it'll be ordered. Hopefully get it before I leave for Tijuana. I really want some awesome footage of Tijuana. To be perfectly honest, I don't think many people are getting any footage of Tijuana these days, what with random beheadings and bodies in barrels of acid. But man, I'd be the star of YouTube if I got some of that on camera.
Not that I'd feel like a total jerk for filming that and putting it on the Internet though...
To end with my Internet findings of the day, here is one witty picture, and one mind-blowing picture, which may just give you a whole new perspective on your life.
Today's exciting event was the garbage run. And getting stuck there. First, the House 7 boys have school off this week, so 4 of them came with me. Obviously, a blast. We can see the dump from the mission actually, up on the hill behind us, and all morning, smoke was just billowing out of it like I've never seen. When we got there, they had us drive to the top of the dump...right through the smoke, and right TOWARDS the smoke. Couldn't see a bloody thing going through it. Once we got up there, I backed into position where the guy told me to go, and we all got out to start unloading our garbage.
Then, just like in the movies, this other guy who works there comes out of nowhere, walking through the smoke in some epically dramatic entrance. Walking out of the flames. It was quite cool. But it didn't stay quite cool, cause he was the one that came and told us that we couldn't dump there and that we needed to go back down the hill clear to the other side of the dump. Yeah, whatever, not that far. Except, very far when you've got a huge plume of smoke in your way. We tried for like 20 minutes, there was no way we were getting through. I made a couple attempts, nothing. Couldn't see a foot in front of me. And to add to that, the truck would quickly fill up with un-breathable smoke. Not normal fire smoke. This was a month's worth of trash from an entire city they were burning. Who knows what could've gone in there. Heck, we could've been breathing in a former body, no one knows. That's kind of a nasty thought though..I hope that's not true.
So...we waited...and waited...and waited. Eventually the wind blew the smoke to one side for no more than a couple seconds, giving us enough time to see where the road was, and the truck waiting in front of us gunned it. I had to follow them within a foot or so the whole way down just to see his tail lights. I was hoping he knew where the rest of the road went, cause I couldn't see a darned thing, let alone his own truck. It was pretty epic indeed. Can't say I've seen that amount of concentrated smoke in quite awhile. Maybe 9/11? That might have been the last time...I don't know. It was bad though.
The waiting at the dump was fine though, having the House 7 boys there was well worth it..so entertaining. As always.
Lastly, I've picked out my camera, just need to give my parentals the OK, and it'll be ordered. Hopefully get it before I leave for Tijuana. I really want some awesome footage of Tijuana. To be perfectly honest, I don't think many people are getting any footage of Tijuana these days, what with random beheadings and bodies in barrels of acid. But man, I'd be the star of YouTube if I got some of that on camera.
Not that I'd feel like a total jerk for filming that and putting it on the Internet though...
To end with my Internet findings of the day, here is one witty picture, and one mind-blowing picture, which may just give you a whole new perspective on your life.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
BEDA - April 14th
Today was a fairly relaxing day. Kevin is still In Tijuana, doing what he does best to those computers up there, preparing for our week of working at the TJ House. I spent the day finishing up the necessary cleaning in our new room. Now we have room to build our computer/soldering work bench, and also the server room. It's actually a fairly large project, which is going to include building four new walls, putting in two windows, a fan on the ceiling of the server room, and other little doo-dahs, little finishing touches that will make it homey. Like...say, the two full size couches. Or, maybe the projector. I mean...umm, tables, tool racks, storage shelves, and other work related things. That's all we have in there, I promise. Work stuff.
Anywho...tomorrow night, Blair, Kelcie, and I went for tacos and good ole Smokey's (yes, that says tomorrow night, that's not a typo. And if that makes sense to you, then you are very precise and observant). And Blair said something about this Mexican guy that he and Warehouse Dave ran into a couple times at the local taco stands., and how he'd be asking them for a taco or two. That part is not necessary to my story. It just made me remember something I had planned on writing up on here, cause I thought it was interesting.
So, this specific guy, is one of those people most would consider a "social outcast" or whatever that has come to mean these days. I first saw this guy in church (ironically enough) as walked by me down the aisle, stopped, turned around, and casually walked back. On his way back, I got a glimpse of him. He had the body of a small teenager. Skinny, short legs, small chest, just a small body over all. He even had that teenager walk down. But as I followed his body up from his feet (I scan people starting at their feet...cause, I don't know about you, but I remember people by their shoes. Not their faces, or clothes. Shoes.) I noticed that he had the face of a rather elderly man. 60s? 70s? I'm not sure. But it didn't match his body. At all. Which is funny, after saying I don't remember people by their faces really but by their shoes. This guy was definitely an exception to that rule (although, I do in fact, remember was wearing brown baggy pants, skater shoes, and a beanie). I have this guys face engraved in my mind for quite awhile. Just that one in a lifetime you don't ever forget.
Anywhoozles...then my natural brain cycles started, the ones that just go without me saying so. I thought, "Awww, poor guy. His life must be so hard just to simply BE like that. I can't even imagine. Does he have friends? Where is his family? Exactly how old is he? Is his age the age of how his body looks? Or how his face looks? How has he made it this far in life (however far that might be), when so much in this life is based off looks and initial appearance. What are the chances that people are just going to walk up to him and simply ask how he is? What are the odds people will go out of their way to get to know him, or even acknowledge he exists? Being a "social outcast," aren't most people going to initially see him and be afraid of approaching him?" And then I noticed I was doing just that...I was totally judging him on his initial appearance, of how he looked to me. I was just as guilty as anyone else who'd ever come in contact with him. I was doing what I, myself, was questioning.
But it kept on going...
I continued thinking, "Wow, I'm so glad I'm not him. I don't know if I could live like that. Thank you God, for making me who I am. I am so thankful for the life I have." It's like one of those things where North Americans go on a missions trip to, say, Mexico, and feel so blessed, and go home and are so thankful for everything they have, because they personally witnessed the conditions others are living in at that very moment. It's kinda the same thing with this man I saw in church. I was so thankful that God showed this man to me, cause it really made me realize the blessings that I have, if only physical blessings. Even though to most of the world, we call it normal. But to this guy, all us "normal" people are so blessed. We don't have to worry about something as basic as looking normal on an everyday basis (unless you look like Ron Weasley...then life is really tough). We get up and walk out the door every morning, without so much as a thought of, "I wonder if people are going to point and stare today?" That's just not in us. Sometimes, it's actually just the opposite. "I wonder people are going to point and stare at this brand new jacket I got, or new shiny shoes, or, heck, and fancy dancy soccer ball? Look at how special it looks on me. I hope people notice." Whereas this guy's probably hoping people skip right over him, and don't take a second glance. Which, really is a low point. If you're going through your day HOPING and PRAYING that not a single person notices you, something is either wrong you, or something is wrong with the way society treats/acts towards you. I claim that it's the latter. This guy, for one is still a guy, and God still created him just as he is. Heck, maybe the point of his life is to help the rest of us with "normal" lives realize what we have, and to not take advantage of it. It's not my place to say, that's up to God. Maybe he's happy with the way he is, which would be the coolest thing in the world. I don't know what's going through his mind, nor will I ever. But I couldn't help thinking about him, and just thanking God for using him to help me realize how blessed I am.
It's like our Day Home here at the mission. Our day home has like 18 or so disabled kids in it. They come here every week day; picked up at home in the morning, they're here throughout the day, then they're brought home at 3:30. It's like they're just another example of this: God using others to show us how blessed we are.
And then I got to thinking.
What if...?? What if...we were being used by God to show others how blessed they were? What if us "normal" people were here for the purpose of showing others just how fortunate they are? What if I was one of God's examples that other people saw and went, "Wow, I'm glad I'm like me and not him. I have a blessed life." How would that make me feel? I'm pretty darn sure that would make me feel vastly inferior. but who am I to say that I'm not? I see other people and realize the blessings I have, why can't others look at me and see how blessed they are? We all here for the purpose of spreading God's glory, what if I'm part of that to show the blessings God's given to others?
Would I act differently if I knew someone was watching me because they were coming to the realization of their blessings? I'm sure I would. If I was the guy walking down the aisle at church, and I stopped, turned around, and stared myself in the eye (which would be creepy in itself), what would I see? Would I see myself sitting in that chair thinking I have life figured out, and then watch as I glanced down at the shoes and slowly progressed up my body? When I saw my face, what would my reaction be? I bet, if anything, I'd notice a change in facial expression as I saw my face on that body.
All I'm wondering is, every single one of us goes through our everyday lives, witnessing and seeing people who, to us, seem like God revealed them to us for the purpose showing himself to us. By using them, we see God, and all that he's done for us. But do we ever think that we can actually be one of those people? Being God's servant, unknowingly? Of course, we're always supposed to be being his servant, but maybe we're not consciously thinking of it. I'm not.
But maybe I will now that I know there is a good possibility someone is watching me, looking at my shoes, and glancing up to see not me, but God, and the blessings he's bestowed upon them in their "abnormal" lives.
Anywho...tomorrow night, Blair, Kelcie, and I went for tacos and good ole Smokey's (yes, that says tomorrow night, that's not a typo. And if that makes sense to you, then you are very precise and observant). And Blair said something about this Mexican guy that he and Warehouse Dave ran into a couple times at the local taco stands., and how he'd be asking them for a taco or two. That part is not necessary to my story. It just made me remember something I had planned on writing up on here, cause I thought it was interesting.
So, this specific guy, is one of those people most would consider a "social outcast" or whatever that has come to mean these days. I first saw this guy in church (ironically enough) as walked by me down the aisle, stopped, turned around, and casually walked back. On his way back, I got a glimpse of him. He had the body of a small teenager. Skinny, short legs, small chest, just a small body over all. He even had that teenager walk down. But as I followed his body up from his feet (I scan people starting at their feet...cause, I don't know about you, but I remember people by their shoes. Not their faces, or clothes. Shoes.) I noticed that he had the face of a rather elderly man. 60s? 70s? I'm not sure. But it didn't match his body. At all. Which is funny, after saying I don't remember people by their faces really but by their shoes. This guy was definitely an exception to that rule (although, I do in fact, remember was wearing brown baggy pants, skater shoes, and a beanie). I have this guys face engraved in my mind for quite awhile. Just that one in a lifetime you don't ever forget.
Anywhoozles...then my natural brain cycles started, the ones that just go without me saying so. I thought, "Awww, poor guy. His life must be so hard just to simply BE like that. I can't even imagine. Does he have friends? Where is his family? Exactly how old is he? Is his age the age of how his body looks? Or how his face looks? How has he made it this far in life (however far that might be), when so much in this life is based off looks and initial appearance. What are the chances that people are just going to walk up to him and simply ask how he is? What are the odds people will go out of their way to get to know him, or even acknowledge he exists? Being a "social outcast," aren't most people going to initially see him and be afraid of approaching him?" And then I noticed I was doing just that...I was totally judging him on his initial appearance, of how he looked to me. I was just as guilty as anyone else who'd ever come in contact with him. I was doing what I, myself, was questioning.
But it kept on going...
I continued thinking, "Wow, I'm so glad I'm not him. I don't know if I could live like that. Thank you God, for making me who I am. I am so thankful for the life I have." It's like one of those things where North Americans go on a missions trip to, say, Mexico, and feel so blessed, and go home and are so thankful for everything they have, because they personally witnessed the conditions others are living in at that very moment. It's kinda the same thing with this man I saw in church. I was so thankful that God showed this man to me, cause it really made me realize the blessings that I have, if only physical blessings. Even though to most of the world, we call it normal. But to this guy, all us "normal" people are so blessed. We don't have to worry about something as basic as looking normal on an everyday basis (unless you look like Ron Weasley...then life is really tough). We get up and walk out the door every morning, without so much as a thought of, "I wonder if people are going to point and stare today?" That's just not in us. Sometimes, it's actually just the opposite. "I wonder people are going to point and stare at this brand new jacket I got, or new shiny shoes, or, heck, and fancy dancy soccer ball? Look at how special it looks on me. I hope people notice." Whereas this guy's probably hoping people skip right over him, and don't take a second glance. Which, really is a low point. If you're going through your day HOPING and PRAYING that not a single person notices you, something is either wrong you, or something is wrong with the way society treats/acts towards you. I claim that it's the latter. This guy, for one is still a guy, and God still created him just as he is. Heck, maybe the point of his life is to help the rest of us with "normal" lives realize what we have, and to not take advantage of it. It's not my place to say, that's up to God. Maybe he's happy with the way he is, which would be the coolest thing in the world. I don't know what's going through his mind, nor will I ever. But I couldn't help thinking about him, and just thanking God for using him to help me realize how blessed I am.
It's like our Day Home here at the mission. Our day home has like 18 or so disabled kids in it. They come here every week day; picked up at home in the morning, they're here throughout the day, then they're brought home at 3:30. It's like they're just another example of this: God using others to show us how blessed we are.
And then I got to thinking.
What if...?? What if...we were being used by God to show others how blessed they were? What if us "normal" people were here for the purpose of showing others just how fortunate they are? What if I was one of God's examples that other people saw and went, "Wow, I'm glad I'm like me and not him. I have a blessed life." How would that make me feel? I'm pretty darn sure that would make me feel vastly inferior. but who am I to say that I'm not? I see other people and realize the blessings I have, why can't others look at me and see how blessed they are? We all here for the purpose of spreading God's glory, what if I'm part of that to show the blessings God's given to others?
Would I act differently if I knew someone was watching me because they were coming to the realization of their blessings? I'm sure I would. If I was the guy walking down the aisle at church, and I stopped, turned around, and stared myself in the eye (which would be creepy in itself), what would I see? Would I see myself sitting in that chair thinking I have life figured out, and then watch as I glanced down at the shoes and slowly progressed up my body? When I saw my face, what would my reaction be? I bet, if anything, I'd notice a change in facial expression as I saw my face on that body.
All I'm wondering is, every single one of us goes through our everyday lives, witnessing and seeing people who, to us, seem like God revealed them to us for the purpose showing himself to us. By using them, we see God, and all that he's done for us. But do we ever think that we can actually be one of those people? Being God's servant, unknowingly? Of course, we're always supposed to be being his servant, but maybe we're not consciously thinking of it. I'm not.
But maybe I will now that I know there is a good possibility someone is watching me, looking at my shoes, and glancing up to see not me, but God, and the blessings he's bestowed upon them in their "abnormal" lives.
Monday, April 13, 2009
BEDA - April 13th
Today, Kevin, my supervisor left for Tijuana. The mission has a "house" there, called the TJ House (Tijuana House), and kids from the orphanage here can go there and attend college in Tijuana. He went up to stay there for three days and check out the computer situation. Then, he's going to come back here on Wednesday and assess what we need to do there, and on the 26th, we're both heading up and staying at the TJ House for a week to do a big renovation project on their computers. Yes, I am fully aware that in 2008, 6000 people were killed in Tijuana alone. But what most people don't know, and that the media don't tell them, is that the vast majority of those deaths have been gang and drug related deaths, hence the "drug war." They're not going after tourists...although, I guess after being here this long, I can hardly call myself a tourist...but they don't know any better by looking at me. Anywho, tourists are at far less risk than citizens, cause well, we're not exactly participating in their drug war, are we? Not so much..unless you still don't know about my side business. In that case, I guess I am at risk. Hmmm...maybe I shouldn't go. No, just kidding. I know there are some of you who will actually believe me if I said that...so no, not true. But anywho, I'm hoping to have my video camera by then...(but probably won't), so I'll try and get some footage if I can. Anywho, I'm pretty excited to go...I haven't been to the TJ House yet, and I hear it's pretty cool. And recently the family living there moved out, and Jorge and Gina (who used to work here) moved up there to take their place. And they're uber cool, as well as their two sons, so I'm looking forward to it. Deborah said there are between 10-20 college age kids staying their at any given time, so what's not to like. So many kids my age. And finally some guys to hang out with! (Hahahah...just kidding Kelcie/Deborah. You know you'd go crazy if you didn't have another girl for 6 months)
Anywho, yep, that's my plan in a couple weeks. This Friday (the 17th), I'm leaving at 6am to go play in a soccer tournament in Ensenada with the House 7 boys and some of our friends from town. I hope we get back in time to get the Friday blog in. I know I'll have lots to say. We're playing in a stadium with grass and everything. Haven't done that since high school, back in the days when we were really good (0-14-2). good thing I brought my cleats though, I'll finally get to really use them for realsies.
Ok, so Saturday, I donwloaded an episode of How Stuff Works, the Discovery channel show that well...explains how things work. This particular episode was was highlighting anatomical models, tortilla chips, spark plugs, jukeboxes. I watched it Sunday afternoon, with a special interest int eh tortilla chips and jukeboxes. Tortilla chips just seemed interesting cause it's food we eat, and it's mass produced on a ridiculous, and they still seem to get every chip perfect (and every bag half filled). I think they must have all their scales programmed wrong or something. "Hey, I know it says "There's a crunch in every bag" on the front, but it really only means "There's half as much crunch as there appears to be," so set this scale to stop filling the bag at "angry customer" instead of "satisfied and returning customer."
That wasn't even the issue though. the tortilla chip segment was actually quite interesting. Learned lots. It's the jukebox I had a huge problem with. In the pre-show example, that little 10 second clip showing what they were looking at in this episode, it showed this wicked sweet mechanical arm going around grabbing CDs and neatly placing them in the optical drive to be read and played. I was getting all pumped up about seeing how this machine works, picking out the user-selected song from it's library of hundred's of CDs, and playing it within like 10 seconds or whatever. That's cool right? Apparently not to the Discovery Channel. It started out like this:
1. Queue the replay of said 10 second clip featuring the CD-based jukebox.
2. Play said clip with voice overlay saying, "this is how jukeboxes used to be."
3. Change clips, and say, "but this is how they work nowadays, in more modern times. We don't have time on this show to explain things that went out of style last week."
4. Start playing video about modern jukeboxes...which, surprise surprise, run on MP3s.
5. This 10 minute clip (yes, they managed to get 10 full minutes of footage out of building a MP3 jukebox) consisted of about 10 modular parts, and lots of screws.
6. Ever want to build your own jukebox? Easy. Just follow the Discovery Channel's example, like this:
7. Start off by making the glass faceplate with that spare window you have sitting out back. And while you're back there, take that pinball machine apart and use that cardboard/plastic as the border to go around your glass window. Screw those together.
8. That old refrigerator that you don't use anymore can be used to house all the components, and you can cut a hole in the top part of it where you'll insert your screen and faceplate. Screw your faceplate into the square hole you cut.
9. Clean out your fridge. If necessary, leave it open for 10 or more days to get that oyster smell out of it. After 12 days, give up. It's not going anywhere. And you knew that.
10. Grab the computer your brother-in-law picked up for you at the dump and use that as your server to hold all your MP3 files. Screw that in on the bottom of your fridge.
11. Those speakers in your living room that your wife specifically said you didn't need and shouldn't buy will work perfectly for audio output. Place them standing upright next to the screen. Screw them in.
12. You're also going to need that old power supply that you stole from office computer right before your boss declared a company-wide computer upgrade. Screw that in.
13. That transformer that you never noticed sitting in your garage when you bought the house from the previous owner is a perfect match for the job. Hook that up between the computer and the power supply, and connect all necessary cables. We know you have them. Finally, screw that in.
14. Do you remember awhile back when you went to borrow a few eggs from your neighbor (after preparing everything for omelets, only to realize you don't have any eggs), discovered he wasn't home, and walked out with his audio mixer from his recording studio? Yes, you told him you didn't have it, and didn't seen anyone go in his house that day, but for the purposes here, there's nothing better. This project calls for that audio mixer, and it can go right beside the power supply. Connect to transformer and computer, again, with the necessary cables we know you've been stocking up. Lastly, screw that in.
15. The brand new router your bought for your son and his family...well, yep, you guessed it, son never saw it, son never got it. Son never knew it, son won't use it. Jukebox....or son.....JUKEBOX! Install that near the top, as to get better reception, and hey, guess what??? Screw that in!!
16. The only other thing we need is a cash machine/bill reader/change machine. Hmmm. Wait! Good thing you saved all those parts from your days of working as a Coke vending-machine repairer. Oh, the days of college. Get that old cash reader out of that machine you have in your garage and install that in the ice dispenser of your fridge. And no, you want your bills whole, not crushed. And you guessed it, SCREW THAT IN!
17. Now, obviously, the only step left is to plug it in. Of course, no worries there, cause if you followed our directions, it will work flawlessly, not a single error. No setup required. Just plug it in, and you've got your jukebox. Start making money!!
This entire episode just made me angry! First, they fool you into thinking you're going to see how these sweet jukeboxes worked back in the 70s and 80s, or, maybe if you're lucky, get to see a CD-based one in action. Nope, on the contrary, for ten whole minutes, you watch this guy grab modular piece after modular piece and screw it in, screw it in, screw it in. The narrator said "screw that in" at least 12 different times. Good thing my knowledge of screwing things in increased so much after watching that, or I'd NEVER be able to build my own jukebox. It wasn't the special power supply, the transformer, the audio mixer, OR the router I was worried about getting and hooking up correctly. It was the screws. Just think of the consequences if I hadn't had a screwdriver nearby!!!!
What a crisis.
Thanks, Discovery, for enlightening me in the ways of screwing in pre-manufactured parts. Now I can practically build a jukebox with my eyes closed! What would I have done without you??
Good thing I already know how to build wireless routers at the 54GHz wavelength, write software to properly run my MP3 server, code my laser-scanning cash reader to accept real money and spit out fake money (or anything with so much as a minute nano-crease on it...and just for kicks, randomly spit out perfectly good money just to piss customers off. And by customers, I mean my wife and kids, and increasingly, myself), solder my own power supply together, and correctly hook it up to the transformer I threw together on my way home from work that effectively distributes the power evenly amongst all the components.
You're a lifesaver, Discovery.
Thanks again!
Yours sincerely,
Screwed Yet Again
Anywho, yep, that's my plan in a couple weeks. This Friday (the 17th), I'm leaving at 6am to go play in a soccer tournament in Ensenada with the House 7 boys and some of our friends from town. I hope we get back in time to get the Friday blog in. I know I'll have lots to say. We're playing in a stadium with grass and everything. Haven't done that since high school, back in the days when we were really good (0-14-2). good thing I brought my cleats though, I'll finally get to really use them for realsies.
Ok, so Saturday, I donwloaded an episode of How Stuff Works, the Discovery channel show that well...explains how things work. This particular episode was was highlighting anatomical models, tortilla chips, spark plugs, jukeboxes. I watched it Sunday afternoon, with a special interest int eh tortilla chips and jukeboxes. Tortilla chips just seemed interesting cause it's food we eat, and it's mass produced on a ridiculous, and they still seem to get every chip perfect (and every bag half filled). I think they must have all their scales programmed wrong or something. "Hey, I know it says "There's a crunch in every bag" on the front, but it really only means "There's half as much crunch as there appears to be," so set this scale to stop filling the bag at "angry customer" instead of "satisfied and returning customer."
That wasn't even the issue though. the tortilla chip segment was actually quite interesting. Learned lots. It's the jukebox I had a huge problem with. In the pre-show example, that little 10 second clip showing what they were looking at in this episode, it showed this wicked sweet mechanical arm going around grabbing CDs and neatly placing them in the optical drive to be read and played. I was getting all pumped up about seeing how this machine works, picking out the user-selected song from it's library of hundred's of CDs, and playing it within like 10 seconds or whatever. That's cool right? Apparently not to the Discovery Channel. It started out like this:
1. Queue the replay of said 10 second clip featuring the CD-based jukebox.
2. Play said clip with voice overlay saying, "this is how jukeboxes used to be."
3. Change clips, and say, "but this is how they work nowadays, in more modern times. We don't have time on this show to explain things that went out of style last week."
4. Start playing video about modern jukeboxes...which, surprise surprise, run on MP3s.
5. This 10 minute clip (yes, they managed to get 10 full minutes of footage out of building a MP3 jukebox) consisted of about 10 modular parts, and lots of screws.
6. Ever want to build your own jukebox? Easy. Just follow the Discovery Channel's example, like this:
7. Start off by making the glass faceplate with that spare window you have sitting out back. And while you're back there, take that pinball machine apart and use that cardboard/plastic as the border to go around your glass window. Screw those together.
8. That old refrigerator that you don't use anymore can be used to house all the components, and you can cut a hole in the top part of it where you'll insert your screen and faceplate. Screw your faceplate into the square hole you cut.
9. Clean out your fridge. If necessary, leave it open for 10 or more days to get that oyster smell out of it. After 12 days, give up. It's not going anywhere. And you knew that.
10. Grab the computer your brother-in-law picked up for you at the dump and use that as your server to hold all your MP3 files. Screw that in on the bottom of your fridge.
11. Those speakers in your living room that your wife specifically said you didn't need and shouldn't buy will work perfectly for audio output. Place them standing upright next to the screen. Screw them in.
12. You're also going to need that old power supply that you stole from office computer right before your boss declared a company-wide computer upgrade. Screw that in.
13. That transformer that you never noticed sitting in your garage when you bought the house from the previous owner is a perfect match for the job. Hook that up between the computer and the power supply, and connect all necessary cables. We know you have them. Finally, screw that in.
14. Do you remember awhile back when you went to borrow a few eggs from your neighbor (after preparing everything for omelets, only to realize you don't have any eggs), discovered he wasn't home, and walked out with his audio mixer from his recording studio? Yes, you told him you didn't have it, and didn't seen anyone go in his house that day, but for the purposes here, there's nothing better. This project calls for that audio mixer, and it can go right beside the power supply. Connect to transformer and computer, again, with the necessary cables we know you've been stocking up. Lastly, screw that in.
15. The brand new router your bought for your son and his family...well, yep, you guessed it, son never saw it, son never got it. Son never knew it, son won't use it. Jukebox....or son.....JUKEBOX! Install that near the top, as to get better reception, and hey, guess what??? Screw that in!!
16. The only other thing we need is a cash machine/bill reader/change machine. Hmmm. Wait! Good thing you saved all those parts from your days of working as a Coke vending-machine repairer. Oh, the days of college. Get that old cash reader out of that machine you have in your garage and install that in the ice dispenser of your fridge. And no, you want your bills whole, not crushed. And you guessed it, SCREW THAT IN!
17. Now, obviously, the only step left is to plug it in. Of course, no worries there, cause if you followed our directions, it will work flawlessly, not a single error. No setup required. Just plug it in, and you've got your jukebox. Start making money!!
This entire episode just made me angry! First, they fool you into thinking you're going to see how these sweet jukeboxes worked back in the 70s and 80s, or, maybe if you're lucky, get to see a CD-based one in action. Nope, on the contrary, for ten whole minutes, you watch this guy grab modular piece after modular piece and screw it in, screw it in, screw it in. The narrator said "screw that in" at least 12 different times. Good thing my knowledge of screwing things in increased so much after watching that, or I'd NEVER be able to build my own jukebox. It wasn't the special power supply, the transformer, the audio mixer, OR the router I was worried about getting and hooking up correctly. It was the screws. Just think of the consequences if I hadn't had a screwdriver nearby!!!!
What a crisis.
Thanks, Discovery, for enlightening me in the ways of screwing in pre-manufactured parts. Now I can practically build a jukebox with my eyes closed! What would I have done without you??
Good thing I already know how to build wireless routers at the 54GHz wavelength, write software to properly run my MP3 server, code my laser-scanning cash reader to accept real money and spit out fake money (or anything with so much as a minute nano-crease on it...and just for kicks, randomly spit out perfectly good money just to piss customers off. And by customers, I mean my wife and kids, and increasingly, myself), solder my own power supply together, and correctly hook it up to the transformer I threw together on my way home from work that effectively distributes the power evenly amongst all the components.
You're a lifesaver, Discovery.
Thanks again!
Yours sincerely,
Screwed Yet Again
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