Getting off of the bus, feeling like a shaken can of soda, walking up the steep hill while dodging stray dogs and arriving at the quaint little church building, ringing the doorbell, hearing the children in the background rustling around, shouting excitedly wondering who is on the other side of the door felt surreal, as if I were walking around in what I had dreamed the situation would be like… The door to the mission is opened. Kate and I are hit by a wall of emotion and love, the children shriek with excitement, "Profe, Profe!" as a stampede rushes to greet us with open arms, hugs and kisses, "I've missed you," they say as they swing from my neck and squeeze at my waist. Excited, with a sly look in their eyes, they question, "Are we going to have English class today?... And after class and we learn lots of English, can we go play outside?" For them this is just another day of English class and playing in the streets, while for me, I try to keep from wearing my sad heart on my sleeve.
As Kate and I make our way upstairs for lunch I pray that it will not be chopped liver or Mondongo (cow stomach). Thankfully it was rice, pasta and an egg sunny side up. I introduce Kate to Padre Jose, his sister Clemencia and the children, explaining as much as I could about the mission/the routine hoping that she wasn't overwhelmed with all the information I was passing on. After lunch, I introduced Kate as my replacement, a few kids asked when I would be back, why and where I was going, why I wasn't staying, and if that would really be the last time I would see them, and they hounded Kate with another million questions. They were so excited to have Kate there, I could not have prayed for a better goodbye.
