Visitors

August 19, 2007

I have always liked visitors. In college, a constant stream of visitors would ebb and flow out of my suite and I loved it. We were continually entertained by friends bringing friends and story after story of this or that. Our door was never closed and people knew that. It was a rare night that someone would not pass by. Though I did not know this at the time, I think my college years and multitude of visitors will prepare me well for this year.

We have been here six nights so far and all but one we have had visitors at night (the other night it was raining and Hondurans do not like to go out in the rain). Every night, we hear a knock on the metal door and a ‘buenas’ and our visitors begin. Some are regulars and others just once or twice. Chike (pronounced cheek-ay) passes by almost every night. He is part of the Imprevistas, a local youth group, and has been friends with the volunteers since year one. With a greeting to everyone—kisses on the cheek for the girls and a hand shake for the guys, he makes himself at home and starts the jokes. Aside from Chike, a handful of the other Imprevistas stop by too and Professor Carlos from the local school comes by often. He has a hyena-esq laugh and him and Chike seem like partners in crime. Other nights, women from the church stop by bringing children and sometimes snacks. Two nights ago, we entertained Isabelle, her daughters Bessie and Noellea, Lewis (the Church guitar player) and another gentleman who we didn’t know. With various ages, the conversation from what I can understand is very interesting!

The night visitors are fun, but my favorites are the afternoon visitors. Every afternoon, a small knock on the door followed by lots of clanging and banging on the door signals the visit of one or two of the countless local children. They melt my heart and I cannot help but always say yes to letting them in and playing with them. Yes, it may just seem like babysitting in a different country, but these kids are ridiculously cute and have won me over completely. Four little boys who are all about seven stop by at least once a day. Marvin, Noah, Christano, and Omer, in many different combinations, wreak havoc wherever they go. Like a mini tornado, they come running into the house searching for Oso and then proceed to run around the couple of areas in our house chasing and then manhandling Oso. After Oso gets tired or starts barking/ biting at them, they curiously start to play with anything left on our coffee table. So far they have fallen in love with the light up yoyo, my sunglasses and anything with headphones especially Ipods. Some games or books are read but their attention span is very short and they are easily distracted. Every day they come with dirt caked on their faces and hands, wearing holey, dirty clothes, and only sometimes with shoes. They are a mischievous handful, but they are precious and exude such joy and little giggles. Two other girls come from the neighborhood come regularly to borrow books and even sometimes bring us banana pancakes. They are quiet and shy and hold the books gently like a prized possession.

The beauty of visitors is that our house is not only becoming our home, but theirs too. As each person spends more and more time, I am comforted by new friendships and people in my life and I am realizing more and more that the presence of God is not just found between the four walls of a church, but in the faces of those with whom I spend my evenings and especially my afternoon.