Tuesday, March 13, 2007
The other day I was going through the checkout line in the supermarket and I saw a Reader’s Digest with the main article title “What Annoys Paraguayans?” (“Annoy” is my best attempt at a translation of the word “molestar.” I felt very uncomfortable using this word when I first came, but now I don’t even think of the English meaning and I am afraid for the day when I return and I ask someone if I am molesting them.) Even though these kind of unofficial polls tend to be over-generalized and obvious, I thought it might be an interesting read for me. I had a few qualms about buying it, considering that the magazine cost as much as two bags of groceries, but just as it came time to pay I decided I would splurge for the sake of learning about the culture and reading Paraguayan Spanish. After I walk out of the store, I always stop to rearrange the contents of my bags, as I am somewhat picky about which items should go together and the weight distribution (this didn’t make the Paraguayan’s list, but it really bugs me when they put the tomatoes under a bottle of cooking oil or the ground beef with the bread.) I was congratulating myself on how many groceries I bought for only a few dollars, until I realized that I had slipped the magazine in my purse without paying for it.
I have a confession. For a few seconds I considered just to keep on going. It would be terribly embarrassing to have to walk back in and pay, and the checker would be thinking, “what a stupid american girl.” In hindsight I am so thankful that no alarm went off, I would have been so confused and I would have died a thousand deaths with all those strange eyes on me. And even though I am a missionary and I don’t know that I’ve ever purposefully stolen anything in my whole life, the thought still entered my mind, “hey, free magazine!!” But of course I returned it, because the thought of a gnawing conscious seemed be worse than any shame I might suffer in front of the checker. And I wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone the story.
Speaking of timidity, the last two Sundays I played piano for church. I am very thankful that my mom made me take piano lessons and I have these skills to minister the church and to God, but it really is quite terrifying for me. In the first place, our sound system is a single speaker that is farther ahead of the raised part in front (I don’t want to use the word “stage” as part of a church, I can’t remember what it is called, platform maybe.) I can’t hear what I am playing, and at any given time I could be totally in the wrong key and not have a clue about it. I am really jealous of the guy playing guitar beside me who can’t even read music but is very naturally blessed musically and he can just sing and play straight from his inner depths. I have to concentrate so much on what I’m playing that sometimes I can’t even sing and I’m not sure that I am really worshipping God with the rest of the congregation. My other misgiving is that I have always been of the opinion that church music should be well-planned, thoughtful, and practiced and delivered with the best we have to offer. I am very uncomfortable with the fact that right now I am playing bad-sounding chords for the King of the Universe. I will probably get a bunch of replies to this entry that it is okay as long as my heart is in it and whatever, but I think I am just going to start practicing more. In case you are wondering why Ben isn’t playing piano, he is doing the music for the Sunday school kids this month. We have 17 people on our equipo de alabanza so the praise team had to split up into two groups and take turns serving in different areas. Plus we want to raise up other leaders and not always just put all the responsibility on Ben. So I guess this is my chance to get better and be a viable backup. Nevertheless, I really hope that sometime maybe we could start a choir here and I would feel more at home being a participant in that arena.
Returning to my former topic, the number one thing that bothers Paraguayans, according to Reader’s Digest, is all the trash strewn about the streets. It is partially due to the stray dogs that dig through all the garbage, but I think this is ironic because almost everyone litters without a second thought. I guess they don’t have much of a concept of “one person can make a difference.”
I don’t feel bad about spending money on the magazine, because I have already let two other people read it. Good reading material is somewhat in demand by those who care about it. Plus I am memorising some of the jokes to share.
I have a confession. For a few seconds I considered just to keep on going. It would be terribly embarrassing to have to walk back in and pay, and the checker would be thinking, “what a stupid american girl.” In hindsight I am so thankful that no alarm went off, I would have been so confused and I would have died a thousand deaths with all those strange eyes on me. And even though I am a missionary and I don’t know that I’ve ever purposefully stolen anything in my whole life, the thought still entered my mind, “hey, free magazine!!” But of course I returned it, because the thought of a gnawing conscious seemed be worse than any shame I might suffer in front of the checker. And I wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone the story.
Speaking of timidity, the last two Sundays I played piano for church. I am very thankful that my mom made me take piano lessons and I have these skills to minister the church and to God, but it really is quite terrifying for me. In the first place, our sound system is a single speaker that is farther ahead of the raised part in front (I don’t want to use the word “stage” as part of a church, I can’t remember what it is called, platform maybe.) I can’t hear what I am playing, and at any given time I could be totally in the wrong key and not have a clue about it. I am really jealous of the guy playing guitar beside me who can’t even read music but is very naturally blessed musically and he can just sing and play straight from his inner depths. I have to concentrate so much on what I’m playing that sometimes I can’t even sing and I’m not sure that I am really worshipping God with the rest of the congregation. My other misgiving is that I have always been of the opinion that church music should be well-planned, thoughtful, and practiced and delivered with the best we have to offer. I am very uncomfortable with the fact that right now I am playing bad-sounding chords for the King of the Universe. I will probably get a bunch of replies to this entry that it is okay as long as my heart is in it and whatever, but I think I am just going to start practicing more. In case you are wondering why Ben isn’t playing piano, he is doing the music for the Sunday school kids this month. We have 17 people on our equipo de alabanza so the praise team had to split up into two groups and take turns serving in different areas. Plus we want to raise up other leaders and not always just put all the responsibility on Ben. So I guess this is my chance to get better and be a viable backup. Nevertheless, I really hope that sometime maybe we could start a choir here and I would feel more at home being a participant in that arena.
Returning to my former topic, the number one thing that bothers Paraguayans, according to Reader’s Digest, is all the trash strewn about the streets. It is partially due to the stray dogs that dig through all the garbage, but I think this is ironic because almost everyone litters without a second thought. I guess they don’t have much of a concept of “one person can make a difference.”
I don’t feel bad about spending money on the magazine, because I have already let two other people read it. Good reading material is somewhat in demand by those who care about it. Plus I am memorising some of the jokes to share.