A Prayer For Gas and Other Small Stories

Friday afternoon: "Students! If you want to come to my church tomorrow, tell me now and i will pick you up in the morning!" Boom, 3 hands shot up.


As of Thursday afternoon we had at least 2 gallons of gas ($10.50 cha-ching) in our, the Datsun Cablight's Asian cousin, Suzuki mini truck. After an unexpected, last minute fruit run late Friday evening we were back at the now all too familiar and newly comfortable "E". Had i not been consumed with husking, cracking, grinding, and milking nearly 30 coconuts with Ryan (a 3+ hour project), the thought to buy more gas might have crossed my mind, but it didn't. Two gallons of gas should be more than enough to circle this island three or four times, right?


The SMUCS (Student Missionary Universal Charter Service) route was scheduled to take 30 minutes, max. After a "Come back in a few minutes", a quarter mile driveway walk (littered with dogs and puddles), and another no-go, we were 1 for 3 and already at the 45 minute mark. Anther 10 minutes later we'd snagged two more and headed back to grab our "come back later" kid. A full hour behind schedule we arrived safely, late for Sabbath school, and nearly out of gas.


Side note: Dogs here are the most confusing animals. They charge at you like a pack of starved lionesses, but the second you let out a (near silent) growl or bend down to "pick up a rock" they whimper and slink back home


The SMUCS ran three more trips that afternoon. Each time, the passengers and i prayed for the truck to have gas, and each time we made it back without any trouble. A quick assessment this morning shows a tank full of the Holy Spirit and some gasoline fumes.


Updates: River's birthday was yesterday, we ate cake for breakfast, ice cream and fried rice for lunch, and cake and homemade coconut ice cream for dinner (the 3 hours of milk harvesting were worth nearly every second). Today my armpits smell like coconut, i'm sweating coconut oil. The pact has been sealed, we will be "ripped, toned, and tan" by the end of our time here. The audience knows when you don't know the words to the song, no matter how hard you try to lip-sync with the rest of the youth. i had 3 women laughing, two students snickering, and one helpful mother whisper after, "I'll write the words out for you". We met a couple of the World Teach people, AMERICAN FRIENDS!


Never trust island time,

Tyler