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Romania 2003

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Newsletter Four

Date: Sunday 27 July 2003.

The strawberry season has come and gone. The cherry season has come and gone. Which means... it's watermelon season! Watermelons are one of those things that Romania gets right. Oh so right.

Streetkid antics are often quite funny. (I choose to laugh, not cry.) For example, on a Day Centre outing to a local river I was kicking a soccer ball around with a streetkid. He went for a big kick and slipped in a fresh cow pat. He landed with his hand in the cow pat, so decided to wipe it on the face of another streetkid, then wiped his hand on the front of his shirt. The second streetkid (not surprisingly) wasn't very happy. He wiped his face with the inside of his own shirt (I think so it didn't look like he was wearing cow poo). I just went and got water for them both. (Two days later they were happily sitting next to each other the next time the Day Centre was on.)

Ever wonder how a donkey could be like a streetkid? If you don't know you probably haven't visited the Boys' Home web site yet. (www.boyshome.ro) We've had a couple of recent updates, including details of the first concrete we've poured at the Boys' Home. (In case you're wondering, I'm the shadow at the bottom of this pic...)

  

More photos are on the web site, and there's also a new prayer request. The next step is pouring the walls.

As well as doing some of the driving to Jimbolia and back, I've driven bunches of streetkids from the Day Centre to a local river for the Sunday programme, and I drove part of the way back from Budapest Airport this morning after picking up a team of young people from Scotland. They're here for the upcoming streetkids camp. (I'll be doing lots more driving for that.) Being able (and willing) to drive is definitely very useful. Any more volunteers?

  

Unfortunately the Dacia I would normally be driving to Jimbolia needs repairs. (The Dacia is the national car of Romania.) At Jimbolia last week I helped free up its engine by attacking it with a sledge hammer and a 2x2 (piece of wood). Scrapheap Challenge has a lot to answer for.

So does sweat, making my glasses fall down my nose...

Some of the things the streetkids wear are really quite strange. For example:

  • One boy (yes, boy) arrived at the Day Centre wearing a long vinyl skirt. He left (or got kicked out) before he could have a shower and get fresh clothes.
     
  • Later the same week a different boy (around the same age, roughly 16 years old) was wearing a long denim skirt AFTER having a shower and getting clean clothes. He took it off when I started beating him at table tennis using my left hand (he was wearing jeans underneath) but he put it on again afterwards.
     
  • On one Sunday trip to the river one of the boys decided to put on a girl's swimsuit, with a couple of apples strategically placed in the front of it. It was just for show, though, as he took it off before going in the water (and wore something more appropriate for a boy).
  

I'm told that in Romania people in the Orthodox church are called "Christians" while Protestants and Pentecostals are called "Repenters". My informant says the Orthodox church teaches that people are saved because they have been baptised. If so, they certainly get that one wrong.

To illustrate, when we poured concrete on Tuesday, at one point we found that a frog had fallen onto the concrete. Since wet concrete is so bad for human skin and frogs being amphibians rely on having wet skin, I rescued the frog and someone poured water over it. We basically baptised the frog, but afterward it wasn't a Christian. It was just a frog with wet skin.

Similarly, going to church doesn't make me a Christian any more than going to McDonald's makes me a Big Mac. Accepting Jesus as my saviour is the important bit.

Saturday's email consisted of 18 spam. Nothing else. My spam filters caught all but one, but it makes me wonder what everyone is doing out there. Surely something is happening outside of Romania.

--

Ian.
8 )
http://homepages.paradise.net.nz/ianman/

Conversation with a streetkid in June:

Ian: How old are you? [Hey, it's one of the only phrases I know.]
Kid: 13.
Ian: You were 12 last week. [With the help of a translator.]
Kid: I grew up quickly.
Ian: When is your birthday?
Kid: November.


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