Day One

It’s been a long and busy day. I’m rewinding and trying to find an anecdote that captures the essence of the day. I’m not sure there’s one that will do it.
Might it be the conversation with the school principal at Gales Point who just wants clean water for her kids to drink? She couldn’t even provide us a sample because today there was no water. The pump was not working and she didn’t know why.
Or Karl, the operator who rode two miles on Ray’s lap to the pump house for the Gales Point well, and fired up the diesel generator to power the electric pump to pump the water so we could get a sample. Oh, by the way, since the pump is running, let’s go ahead and fill the water tank.
Or maybe the Nazarene lay pastors who hosted us for lunch (stewed chicken and rice and beans…or beans and rice). They listened intently as we outlined the role of Living Waters for the World.
Ramon, a former cop and bar owner, and a recent convert to Christianity, was impressive in his passion for his faith and his community. He’s setting up an internet café, the first in his community and promises to have his own email address on March 9. He wants very much for us to “approve his application” for a Living Waters system so his church can provide affordable clean water to the disadvantaged in his community.
Maybe Rebekah Pound, niece of a Nazarene “pioneer” missionary who came to Belize over 30 years ago. She came to Belize over 6 years ago to do recovery work for Hurricane Iris. She stayed and started a High School. She talked with us intently about wanting to do good for the people of the villages of southern Belize. She thinks water might be a part of that picture.
Or Jerry Parham, village elder rice grower and school bus driver in Mafredi. He opened his house to us for dinner, accompanied by four surprise (to us) house guests from Kentucky who we hadn’t expected to meet. Then he offered to let us sleep in the house with his wife and son and granddaughter (and Kentucky guests) when it was discovered that the killer bees living behind the church had migrated inside.
Or maybe Ray Hopkins, extravert extraordinaire, who hobnobbed with everyone in sight, brought a smile to many faces through the day, and pestered the innkeepers at a hotel in Punta Gorda (we couldn’t take advantage of Jerry’s genuinely gracious hospitality) to find us a place with rooms available. And who decided after we’d checked in to another hotel, to pay a visit to the owner when the night manager told us he couldn’t honor the 10% discount that the first innkeepers had negotiated for us. I still don’t know the outcome of that story.
The bottom line: if the remaining trip is as adventure filled as today, I’ll come home exhausted. With a big and satisfied smile on my face. God is good.
Dan Terpstra