A Minute in the Mediterranean

Spain is quite different from Romania, or should I say, Castellon is very different from Sibiu. Castellon is a city filled with buildings that have businesses on the bottom and apartments on top. We're staying in the outskirts of Castellon in a separate house that one of the church members does not live in any more, so it's considered the "rich" area. Like I said before, not my expectation of the hard-life missionary! Not to mention that the weather is now what we thought we were going to have - hot (in the high 80s) and semi-humid.

It was wonderful to welcome the Spain team, but I didn't know I'd be nursing Naomi the first two days. It seems that the enemy is working hard against this team - Mark not getting his passport, the VBS being cancelled, Virgie trying to get over an allergy cold, Naomi getting sick on the plane - so as you continue to pray with us, I can only imagine what great work God has in mind by the end of our trip to give glory to His name!

Teo has a strong vision for the youth of this Romanian church in Spain. His passion for his calling is inspiring. At this moment, he is taking care of his two beautiful children, Lukas (2-yrs.) and Jonathan (4 yrs.), as his wife, Prisilia, was a finalist in the "Voice of McDonalds" competition, so she is in another city singing her last song. She is singing "Because He lives" to give God the glory. We found out already that she came is second. She'll be back tonight.

Last night, Tuesday, we went to the beach for the "youth" (teenage through early 20s) Bible study, followed by volleyball and soccer. Naomi felt good enough to play volleyball, maybe because she was invited to join one of the teams. Steve played on an opposing team, or is "play" the correct term? (JK, Steve!) Rich and I stuck our feet in the Mediterranean, the very warm waters of the Mediterranean - it seems like such a far-off concept to have become a reality.

I was preparing my mind to change to Spanish, and arriving in Valencia I learned that there's a dialect common to this area called Valenciana, so the signs have both Valenciana and Castilian Spanish. Then when Teo and another church member came to pick us up at the train station (which is how we got from Valencia to Castellon), they were speaking to each other in Romanian. So now I'm confusing everyone by speaking Spanish, English and a little Romanian. Of course, as I listen to them talk, I hear a combination of those languages also.

So to close this first blog from Castellon, adios, pacea, and later.

Joanne