New Joy For Each Morning

So this has been my morning so far:

I went for a run (still trying to get in shape to climb a volcano). During that run, I typically act like the air in my hand is a rock and like I’m going to throw it at a dog’s head to keep him from biting me…again.

Came home, made some delicious oatmeal with fresh apple, raisons and cinnamon.   I accompanied breakfast with a devotional time and at the end of my prayer the door bell rang...

Instead of picking up the phone to see who it was, because depending who it is, it’s easier to communicate in a second language face-to-face.  Bad idea.

A local drunk said that some guy down the street told him that Vanessa is mad at him and complained to the police about him specifically.  So he came to our apartment searching for me. He wanted to know what was going on and when we got into the conversation his expectation was for me to go find said guy and tell him not to talk “estupidezes”.

After withholding my identity for a while, I told him that the only complaint that went out to the police was for our neighbors when they were playing their music from 4:30 in the morning until 8am from their van outside one of the bedrooms of our apartment.  And I know for a fact he wasn’t part of that. 

I told him that his friend was lying to him because I neither recognize his face nor know his name.  He told me he loves it when people are frank.  I told him that I hope he has a nice day.  Then he persisted to call me Vanesita and say that he knew Pastor Marcos and I could ask if he, the drunk outside my apartment, was a good guy or a bad guy.  And that maybe, he could come sometime to the house and I could share the word of the Lord with him.  I told him, I do know Pastor Marcos, and he attends the church on the other side of the park in front of our apartment…and that he, Louis Alberto (who gave me his name at this point) could go there to hear the word of the Lord. Or that Pastor Marcos could because it would be better if a man shared it with another man.  He said very well and I told him to have a nice day again and entered the house. 

It’s very special to know that the local drunks know where I live, what floor, and are using my name to play tricks on each other…and all of this by 8:30am.  Every day is an adventure here in Arequipa!