Southern Evangelists ya’ all – Day 1

'So how long 'ya all been here?'

I looked over my shoulder to see if more people had been included in this question. Nope. Ah yes, the question when applied with the southern drool means, 'How long have you (singular) been here?' Vanessa was asked similar questions and when her completely blank expressions mirrored those of the questioner I realised that I could have some real fun with my purposefully not completely accurate interpreter's hat on.

Sorry guys, I couldn't resist a bit of English leg pulling. Last week we met the finest group of people representing three churches from Tennessee and North Carolina.

News on the grapevine in San Juan was that some gringo doctors were in town and my curiosity was piqued as various neighbouring families walked past our house down to the dry bed river and up the slope to one of the many Evangelical churches in these parts. This coupled with my usual dose of hypochondria, (I had a red lesion on my cheek and after all of the intense sun we had been having I wanted to put my mind at rest), was good reason to go to the Shalom Evangelist church after lunch and see if I could talk to one of the doctors there. It had started to rain heavily mid-morning as storm Alex was still persisting (although definitely on the wane), so I had to dodge puddles and streams and go the long way through the town as the normally dry river bed was a treacherous muddy torrent once again.

Inside the colourful church there was activity as tables had been arranged to form a small clinic. I spoke to one of the American ladies who led me to the doctor from Guatemala City. Both his manner and thick rimmed black spectacles definitely gave him the air of 'doctor' and after inspecting my cheek and giving me some ointment I asked doc if I could take his photo for the blog. As this was the week of the San Juan festivities I wasn't working and the kid's dining room was closed too. I decided to volunteer my services and asked if I could help in any way.

I was introduced to Ken Klein, 'as in Calvin Klein' a larger than life pastor from North Carolina. I asked him if he had his own range of underwear and he promptly told me that he had this and a line of his and hers fragrances. We chatted and he suggested that we meet for breakfast at 7am the next morning in the church. I met Don, also from North Carolina and as we fell naturally into conversation I felt at home talking to someone closer to my own culture. I think that after 6 weeks here I needed a bit of 'Gringoship' and I loved the accents that up until now I'd only heard on TV. Interestingly, we both commented on the odd western travellers that came into town and barely said hello or ignored you completely. I think it must be a fear thing.