Friday was my first full day with the eight Nicaraguans who came here to give testimony on behalf of Rainbow Network’s work in their lives. Half of these people live in houses made of scrap wood and plastic with dirt floors; the others have been lucky enough to receive a home from Rainbow Network, but grew up in those same conditions. It has been an eye-opening experience for these people - first time in a plane and first time bathing with hot water. I have had to teach them how to adjust the two faucets to get a temperate that won’t scald their skin, how there is more than one blanket on a hotel bed that they have to pull back, and how to get through a revolving door.

Two things I have had to teach them really stand out, though. We ate lunch at CiCi’s pizza. There was a salad bar and about 25 pizzas to choose from and each Nicaraguan walked away with no more than two small pieces of pizza and a few leaves of lettuce. They were either too overwhelmed to take any more or they just thought there was a limit. They wanted to make sure there was plenty more for others. We Americans got up a few times and returned for dessert pizza or more salad while the Nicaraguans struggled to finish the two pieces they had. When it was time to go, I noticed the Nicaraguan women were wrapping pieces of pizza still left on their plate in paper towels to carry with them. The tragedy of human existence suddenly hit me and I hesitated for a moment before I explained the reality to them.

"No, no, you don’t have to take that." Nicaraguan woman, looking confused: "Well, yes, I… I will eat it later… " She looked at the food saddened to part with it. "It doesn’t matter, just throw it away. There is plenty of food. You are going to eat again in four hours and we will have another meal, so you won’t want that," I try to explain delicately.

Nicaraguans don’t waste food. If it’s edible, it is eaten! One doesn’t know when there will be food again! These people couldn’t understand that food here is in such abundance and another meal is only four hours from now. In their homes, every single parcel of food is consumed - it’s survival.

Today, people who have gone weeks without food to give to their children witnessed the gross abundance and sad reality of the way this world works. Others starve while we throw food away without thinking twice. The same situation presented itself at breakfast and I had let them carry the four uneaten McDonald’s burritos with us. I don’t know if these people understood the intellectual irony and tragedy of that moment. I imagine with their excitement to be in the U.S. it didn’t hit them (although, when they go a week without food again someday, I’m sure they will remember).

On a lighter but still sobering note is the story of an average domesticated dog in the American home. The Nicaraguans are staying in homes with families now and I have joined a group of them. Froto is our protagonist - cute, little, barking kind of household dog. Three Nicaraguans and I are sitting in the living room waiting for our ride and I notice they have zoned out on the dog. Froto is showing off - chasing his tail, barking, and wrestling with a stuffed animal just hoping someone play with him.

Dogs in Nicaragua don’t play and don’t wag their tails. They look for food. Their bones jut out, their tails limp between their legs, and their heads are always bowed except when they meet a human hoping to get at least a scrap of food. The Nicaraguans had never seen a dog that played and here Froto was doing tricks! It turns out there is a Maslow’s hierarchy of needs for dogs as well.   Jessi

A big thanks to Dixie Seibel and Kieth Wheeler who come every week and straighten up our pews in the sanctuary and refill the cards and pencils. Out of respect for them, please be considerate in what you leave behind on Sunday: bulletins, used tissues, candy wrappers, or drink cups (drinks should not be in the sanctuary anyway). Help them keep our sanctuary clean.