The Reality

There are times where I am slapped in the face with the harsh reality that I am not home; that I am not comfortable. Sunday was one of those days.

I woke up with an initial feeling of excitement. I played out my day in my head and it sounded pretty good: mass at a sweet little Church I found, then lunch at this great coffee shop in an historic part of town. Mass would be great because I would receive Christ, and then study Spanish all day at this coffee shop. I felt it. Something I haven't felt in a long time: comfort. I had a schedule, and I felt great about it. Well, it didn't really turn out the way I thought it would.

First the water for the shower wasn't hot; never a good start. Then Mass was cut short because some funeral right after the mass. People in Ecuador, at least people at this church, are a little funny. It's no secret that I'm the only white person at this Church, but people seem to avoid me. The fact that there was a funeral was yet another slap to my pride that I don't know what's going on most of the time. After I left the church I went to my favorite coffee shop, but my time there was cut a little short due to the weather and I didn't bring enough clothes to stay warm. I needed to walk by the grocery store and decided to do a little exploring on my way there. I was admiring Quito and it's history when I turned the corner and saw something a little peculiar. I saw what seemed to be the end of a small conflict. I saw a white guy push away a man that seemed to be demanding something. It was directly in my path to the grocery store and I had a thought of, 'do I avoid the situation or do I just confront it head on?' Well, I chose the latter option and walked right straight towards my destination. As I passed this guy he punched me in the arm and demanded money. Now, I've heard that San Roque (the area where I'm living) isn't that safe, but I've never experienced any moment where I didn't feel safe in 6 weeks. I told the guy I didn't have any money and tried to walk away. He grabbed me and pointed to my pocket exclaiming that he could see my wallet in my front pocket. Well, the truth was I had money, but I wasn't carrying my wallet and pulled out medicine instead. I kept going and didn't think much of it. For some reason it really stuck with me and I started to look at the locals a little differently. Later on that night I was in the house when about 15 teenage dudes came busting in. As it turns out my roommate Javy told them about some kind of youth group that was hosted at our house. He neglected to lock the door behind him and these guys invited themselves in. I went to investigate and left my ipod charging with my computer. They were in the house for about 2 min. until Javy kicked them out, but that's all it took for some punk to jack my ipod. So here I am: I'm sick, I was semi-mugged, and my ipod just got stolen.

I am uncomfortable.

I know that I am down here for a reason. I really believe that. I know that God is in the uncomfortable moments as He is in the comfortable ones. However, I seem to desperately reach out to Him in the uncomfortable times. So that's the reality of where I'm at now.

Reaching.