If you read any of this thing, READ the last paragraph.

Hey again…
Alright, I think this is going to be my last “catching up” blog. I’ve written enough to fill a few novels and I don’t even like writing that much.
So, we got back from the Galapagos. And I would just like to vent a little bit, because as much as I was so very glad to see my family again, having them tell me repeatedly that I SURELY forgot ALL my Spanish during the 6 whole days I was gone is not a very welcoming experience. There are primarily 3 reasons why this bothers me so much:
A) I spoke and listened to plenty of Spanish during that time. (I only speak Spanish with Maria, and most of our tour guides spoke Spanish.)
2) It’s no fun being told you’re not doing well at something, especially when you’re trying hard.
And D) I was dead tired after that quite adventureful week, and just because I said “what” one time after being thrown a boat load of questions doesn’t mean I forgot the language I have been studying day in and day out for the past 9 weeks.
Sigh…
I don’t think they meant to get me down…but I let it frustrate me for quite sometime. But that’s just plain silly.
So approximately 12 hours after we returned to Cuenca, my MOMMY arrived! Both of my host parents and I went to the airport to pick her up which was so exciting! Sometimes I forget how much we gringos really do just stand out here, but man I spotted my mom right away. (She being the only person over 5’3” and blond) I couldn’t believe she was actually here! Morris then drove us to her hotel and said we could have the morning to ourselves and then we could come home for lunch with the fam. It was so wonderful just to walk around the city and really talk with her! When lunch time came around, we jumped in a taxi and made our way to my Ecuadorian house. I love Ecuadorian food. It’s not that it’s all that different from food that we eat, but I think a lot of it is just fresher. I think my mom really enjoyed it too. We spent the rest of that day with my family, just visiting and such.
The whole week that my mom was here, I stayed in her hotel room with her. It was totally worth all the confusion it caused, including getting to school on Monday morning…I love my mom! Anyway, on Saturday morning, the other parents and the Moore’s arrived in Cuenca and shortly thereafter, we all took a trip up to a nearby city called Chordeleg. We stopped and had lunch and such, shopped, and mostly enjoyed eachother’s company.
I already wrote about Easter Sunday and the following day, so I’ll skip to the next part of her visit where we did more fun stuff. Tuesday, after physiology class in the morning we went to pick up the parents at the hotel, and then to meet with the Moore’s at the church. Dr. Moore wanted to take us downtown, and OF COURSE, treat us to ice cream at our favorite, Tutti Freddo. There was a new gringo hanging out at the church offices that morning also. His name is Jonathan. Apparently he’s a med-school student from New York, who came down to help out in the foundation for a few weeks. We invited him to come along on our ice cream trip as well. After that, Luke and his parents, and my mom and I hung out down town and had lunch together. The restaurant we chose was definitely the right choice. The food was just mouth-watering delicious, and the waiter made it all the better. He was hilarious! Among my favorite quotes of his are: “You like-a the shrimps? Well I have just-a the thing…”
“This is a steak for all of de times. I don’t-a know how to say in English but…es para la boda, su cumpleanos, el divorcio, cuando tiene una nota mala en la clase de ciencias…”
“May I suggest, you could share it with some nice potatos.”

Ok, so thennnn I had class and such. That night we went out to dinner again with everyone and then I just hung out with my mom. Wednesday, after physiology, we had our fist culture class! It was pretty fun because our teacher, Alba, catered it for our parents to come as well. We went to a giant fruit market, small museum and a restaurant to eat typical Ecuadorian food. Later, after Spanish class, EVERYONE went to the Palacios’ house (the family Luke is staying with) to have dinner (pizza, home-made by our very own, Dr. Moore). It was great fun to have a final get-together with everyone, since the Moore’s and other parents left that next day. Thursday, after class and everything, my mom and I just spent time together wandering around downtown, then we went home and hung out with my family. Friday, alas, we brought her to the airport…I stuck around and made sure she got checked in alright, and then I headed home for some much needed sleep….What a blessing though to share, ever-so brief as it was, just part of my Cuencan experience with my mom!
Another blessing I would like to mention is how awesome it was to get to know the other parents who came to visit as well. I know that my mom was so very thankful for them as well. I also know that the experience of waiting and praying for Luke while he was lost in Cajas was used, most visibly to me, by God to bring the group of visiting parents together. It was such a blessing to see how coming together before our Father in prayer so evidently built up their relationships despite knowing each other for merely a couple of days.


Oh my goodness! A big part that I skipped in that quick blurb of my week was our first practicum experience! Our practicum’s are going to be happening once every Friday, and some other sporadic times when we can go to the church’s foundation clinic. The six of us randomly spilt off into three groups of two. My practicum partner is Luke. That first Friday, we went to the hospital where Luke’s host dad, Marlo Palacios, works. Dr. Palacios took us around with him to see a few patients at first, nothing too intense. But then he brought us to the O.R. to see if anyone would mind if we watched a surgery. Lucky for us there was one about ready to start! We changed into our scrubs, and strolled into the O.R. like it was no big deal. The doctor introduced himself and explained what they would be doing that day. Well, it turned out that we were actually in the presence of a plastic surgeon who was about to be performing a breast reduction that morning. Luke and I glanced at each other, cracked a few smirks underneath our masks, and proceeded to watch the doctors preparing the equipment.

WARNING: I will try to censor my following experiences, leaving out as much blood and guts as possible. But know that I am a pre-med student and what may be “censored” to me, could be too much for some readers.

After a few minutes, they brought in the patient. She seemed calm. They asked her how she was doing and such, and if this was her first surgery. Nope. It was actually her 4th…no problem! The anesthesiologist did his thing, she was out, and they brought out the tools! After the patient was asleep, another doctor, the one who actually did most of the cutting, came in. This was a decently big guy, looked pretty tough. He was wearing scrubs, but instead of surgeons cap, he had on a Harley Davidson do-rag looking thing. He also had a Sony Boom Box under one arm and a big black case in the other, which we later realized was completely filled with music CD’s. During the procedure, he would frequently ask one of the nurses to change the music. He listened to a pretty wide variety of music, but let me just say, that at one point we were listening to the GREASE soundtrack. HAHAHa. Ok. After the assistants had sufficiently sterilized her, the surgeon started sculpting, if you will. There were purple marker lines drawn where the proper cuts should be made, and he used a special tool, resembling an everyday cookie cutter, to make precise cuts around the nipple. He also had a crazy tool that looked like the thing you use to play the game operation, but it made an even more awful sound. I was intrigued by the process, but will admit I did get a little warm and light-headed at times. During the procedure, Luke and I actually made a pact that 1) We would never be plastic surgeons, and 2) that we would never have plastic surgery done for cosmetic reasons. It’s an ugly process, but one that I actually think should be viewed if considering such an operation. One of the worst parts was watching them perform liposuction around the breasts and neck. It is such an incredibly harsh procedure; I don’t think I could ever purposely do something that abusive to someone’s body. I would much rather tell them to eat less and exercise. Anyway, the worst and actually funniest part of the whole thing was when the doctors began to stitch her up. They stitched up the bottom part of the breast, where they had cut the most tissue from, and then moved upwards. I actually like watching the stitching. It reminds me of my roommate-the sewer, and because of all my practice with her, I think I could do a good job. The bad part though, was when they took the remaining skin of the central parts of each breast and stitched OVER HER NIPPLES! The nipples weren’t included in the stitches, but they were definitely INSIDE her body. Luke leaned over to me at that point and said in a very stern and concerned tone of voice, “That’s not right.” I agreed, but couldn’t help but laugh a bit. He continued, “I’m sorry, but she should get to keep her nipples. Does she know they’re doing that!?” We stood in silence for awhile just watching the doctors stitch away. When I finally got up the courage, I stepped forward, not knowing the word for nipple in Spanish, pointed at the center of one of the woman’s now nipple-less breast, and asked, “Why did you put those things inside?” A small roar of laughter erupted from the surgeons standing around the operating table, but they then assured us that they would be taking them out soon. Sure enough, after determining the best new placement for the nipples, they made marks with the nipple-cookie-cutter-thing, sliced around the marks, and simply pulled the nipples out from under the skin and stitched them up. Good as new!
Not really. It was definitely a long (3 hours!) and gruesome ordeal, but I’m glad I saw it. What an awesome opportunity we have for our practicums. I can’t wait to see what else we learn!

Moving right along… (I’m switching to list form of interesting events, to conserve your time and mine.)

1) I tried CUY! For those of you who don’t habla espanol, cuy, is Spanish for, GUINEA PIG! Yes, guinea pig is a local delicacy. Quite good, most say, if you don’t see the head. I thought it was tasty myself, pretty salty though.
2) I also tried Helado de Paila. (Ice cream of the bowl). It’s actually not really ice cream. It’s made with fresh fruit, lots of sugar (and maybe some milk, but I don’t remember). DELICIOUS!
3) Since I didn’t have physiology last week, I made myself run because, well I haven’t been able to very much. It’s crazy how hard it is to run at this altitude. It’s also hard, because every direction from my house requires going up a substantial hill one way or the other. One day my host asked me to run with him, which was pretty fun, but it really made me miss running with other people…
4) My second practicum experience! I will spare details, but I watched a real live brain surgery! The process definitely interests me; it looks like so much fun. But, I’ve been thinking a lot about all the options that exist in the medical field. Every time I set foot in a hospital, I can’t help but envy a bit the work of the nurses who really get to tend to and care for the patients. Only God knows at this point, what He has in store for my future. I’m looking forward though, to learning more about all the options and more about myself, so that I am better able to follow the direction of God’s plan for my life.
5) Ok, 1 more thing, but it requires its own paragraph:

Well, this story starts a few weeks back, with a random conversation that I had with a few other of the Taylor students about the beliefs of Jehova’s Witnesses. I don’t remember exactly how it came up, but we just talked about all the differences between their beliefs and ours as Christians. Jumping forward…Last Tuesday night, I went to house church bible study with my host parents. That night, they had a question/answer type of session and someone asked about the beliefs of Mormons… Because of both of these encounters, I had very fresh in my brain, some key scriptures that make our 2 religions very different, and learned some other key differences that I hadn’t known about before. Then, 2 days later (Thursday), I was going to get up early and go to the church office with my host mom that morning. However, she came to my room as I was waking up to tell me that she had to go earlier than I thought, so I told her I would just take the bus. As I threw some of my things into a bag that morning, I made sure to bring my Bible, because the Taylor kids and I were planning on having our weekly Bible study that day, and I didn’t want to forget it. Sooo, I left the house that morning at approximately 9 AM, strolling along on my way to the bus stop, humming to myself the tune of “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” (One of my favorites…) when two women approached me…
In Spanish, “Excuse me ma’am, do you speak Spanish.” (yes) “Would you mind talking with us a bit this morning?” Without a thought, I replied that didn’t mind at all and began conversing with these two women. It was obvious to me that they’re goal was evangelizing, so I politely replied to their questions that I was a Christian. One of the women named Norma (the other, Rosita, was very old and didn’t say much at all), proceeded to ask me who I believed God was. I responded as best I could, by explaining that God was the Creator of all things, Lover of His Creation, and JESUS, WHO WALKS WITH US EVERYDAY. With my response, I then realized this woman didn’t agree with what I had told her. She was in fact, a Jehova’s Witness. All the preceding events that led to this instance culminated in my mind, and my heart was overwhelmed with the feeling of PURPOSE in being there at that moment. We continued to converse about our beliefs, for about the next hour or so. Because I so thankfully had my Bible with me that day, I was able to show her (by roughly translating my English Bible into Spanish) the differences between our scriptures. We spoke about the infamous passage, John 1:1, which has been changed in the Mormon Bible to say “In the beginning, the Word was with God. And the Word was A GOD…” Instead of, “The Word WAS God.” This ever so minor difference, gives rise to their belief that Jesus is NOT God. To them, he was a great man and prophet, but not God. At one point, Norma told me, “I believe Jesus is my Savior, but he is NOT God.” I then asked Norma, if she believed Jesus was her savior, then why was it that she believed she had to work for her salvation. It was interesting, but so difficult, because her justifications used most of the same scripture that I would use to defend my beliefs. She then brought me to John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only son so that whoever believes in Him will have eternal life.” She tried to tell me that the verse meant we had to believe and then ACT on our beliefs to be worthy of heaven. While I do believe having true faith in God and in what Jesus has done for us, SHOULD change us in such a way that we will THEN WANT to act on our faith and serve the Lord, but I also believe in GRACE. Grace is what saves us, and GRACE alone. It is by the grace of God and our Lord Jesus Christ who took the punishment of death for all of our sins that we are allowed into His kingdom. And for that I want to serve Him for the rest of my life and eternity. But NEVER, never will I consider that my good actions towards Him are redeemable for my place in heaven. (I’m just plain, not that awesome.)
Not in so many words of course, but I tried as best I could to explain this to Norma. Towards the end of our conversation, I asked if it would be okay if I prayed with her. She politely denied my offer and we eventually parted ways. There was no marked fruit of my encounter with Norma (and Rosita, the silent elder woman), but the peace of fulfilling the will of God that day remains in me. It was so clear to me how each piece was so premeditated by God, and how intentional it was that I was there. Although God’s use of that experience is still not obvious to me, I have confidence that its purpose is that of something much bigger than me. I realized again, in a very real way that day, how GREAT our God is. We sang the song “How Great is our God,” at church the other week. It was so powerful to me in Spanish, because it carries the same truths, but in an entirely different language sung by such a vast and different part of God’s family.

Cuan grande es El.

I’m reading a book right now called The Sacred Romance: Drawing Closer to the Heart of God, by Brent Curtis and John Eldredge. (Care of John Whittney’s parents, who sent him a box full of treats and great books the other week. Thanks!) There is a part where the authors describe the exactly this, the GREATNESS of God. And I quote, “My sense of security grew from an awareness that all this had been going on before me, that though I was part of it, I wasn’t responsible for it…It’s the assurance that there is something grand and good resting on your shoulders, something that doesn’t even culminate in you, but rather invites you up into it.”
I also read, in the last week, a devotional from a favorite of mine, My Utmost for His Highest, written by Oswald Chambers that discussed this as well. Chambers says, “[Salvation] means that the Spirit of God has brought me into intimate contact with the true person of God Himself. And as I am caught up into total surrender to God, I become thrilled with something infinitely greater than myself.”

I am thrilled. I’m thrilled to be here in Cuenca, to be attending Taylor University, to be studying…something, to be a child of God, to be part of the kingdom of heaven, but more than ALL of that, I am THRILLED to worship a God INFINITLY GREATER than myself or anything he uses me for. Cuan grande es el. How great is our God.

Grace be with all of you,
Lindsay