Hola!

Wow, I don't feel as happy as that exlamation point. I am currently feeling simmilar to a lolypop that has been scraped with a rock instead of licked. Like ABC gum. Like a cat that lives next to the monkey's cage at the zoo. Or maybe like a toungue that has just sucked a package of sour patch kids. At any rate, my thoat is killing me and my nose is raw and every time I swallow I am assulted by incredibly loud popping noise along with the exruciating pain..... Anyway. I am back from Acuna and so I thought I'd try to give a little update about that.

It wasn't what I was expecting altogether, but in so many ways better. I think I was expecting a little, innocent, "let's have fun for jesus and share the gosple while we do!" weekend. Let me tell you, that wasn't really it. The five and a half or so hours in the van were all fun and games, but when we got out of the van in Del Rio to get briefed on going over the border, I started REALLY praying. Yes, I thought I had been praying ferevently before, I thought I had put my concerns and worries in God's hands. But I think He changed my mind. We weren't supposed to say anything at all while the translator and the border patrol were talking, because they said the littlest thing could get us stuck for five hours and sent home. So we get to the first checkpoint, no problemo. Go over the river, nice and happy. Then at the second checkpoint, being the third van, we get pulled over. I don't know what every one else was thinking, but I was thinking, "Lord, please get us through! Let that guy with the gun ask the right questions, (BOOM BOOM) let Mrs Barron answer them right, don't let him see all that medicine that is right in front of his face! (BOOM BOOM) Give him dyslexia or something, becuase we may be saying that we are just tourists, but two people in this van have on name tags that say they are nurses! (BOOM BOOM) Lord, your in controll..." Yeah, it was pretty much nerve racking. (BOOM BOOM) But after he opened every door (BOOM BOOM), checked us out, and blabbed in spanish with Mrs Barron for about 1 minute and 30 seconds, we were off! It was amazing. It shouldn't have been, but it was :).

So then we went to a little mission church in the middle of a neighborhood of half-houses of cinder blocks and cardbord. We unloaded, and just as we were warned, in about five minutes the two kis standing there had turned in to 20, and abother five minutes, there were 50 people there! The kids kept coming, they came to join the game of "futbol" and then to get piggy back rides, tackle us, play jump rope, catch, bubbles, color, and a bunch of other things. The adults just kept pulling out more and more stuff to play with, and man did we play. It was non-stop action for about five hours! The kids didn't stop having fun for one minute, I swear. I did, but whenever I sat down I was yanked up again by five or so kids. When five tackled me, another couple would pull me up. We ran, we tickled, we cut, colored, jumped, skipped, danced, and smiled, laughing the whole time. And all I knew how to say when I got there was "hello", "goodbye", and around five other words! That handful stretched itself out, let me tell you. My favorite memories from that day were the tackling match with these five boys, who would jump on me every time my back was turned, strategically tripping me, tickeling me, and surrounding me! I'll always remember how much fun that was, and how they took turns helping me up so I would turn around and they could do it again. I taught them ring-around-the-rosey, which they loved. And when everyone else was tired me and a kid named Fransico just danced around by ourselves. I taught them to make snowflakes with the coloring paper, although I'm pretty sure they had no idea that was what it was, and they were thrilled with it! It was like the simplest thing, writing my name, or drawing a flower, or teaching them a handshake meant the world to them. And at the very end, after they had eaten, there was a gospel presentation in spanish. I sat down, and my buddy Fransisco and his friend (I figured out how to ask thier names, but that doesn't mean I understood!) who I'd been playing with all day, sat down next to me. They put their arms around me, and just listened. I had no idea what was being said, but they raised my hand at the right moments, I guess. They were probably eight or nine, and it was like no one had ever hugged them or smiled at them before. They just loved that I would love them, and it was easy to do. They were also thrilled, at the end, to rub bath & body works shower gel all over their faces becuase it smelled so good. They drew on my face, and when they left I almost cried thinking I'd never see any of the kids I had played with again. It was pretty crazy how much I loved all those kids after only knowing them for a matter of hours.
I really don't remember anything after we got to the hotel that night - I was out like a lightbulb.

The next day we went to another church. This one was bigger, and a little nicer, but the neighborhood around it was still very poor. We walked around the neighborhood telling people that there would be a clinic, and yes, people showed up again. It wasn't quite as frenzied, but today was the day of futbol. I started out playing with a group of boys and a couple of the other kids, and all day I played it. I had to take breaks, but once again, those kids never did. The leaders (blue-shirts as we came to call ourselves) had a system of switching out and switching teams, and the kids would come and a few more would leave, but there was a soccer game on that parking lot of rocks and gravel from 9am-6pm. I almost passed out once or twice from the heat, but those kids I swear never faltered. On friday, I kind of got the feeling of "lets have fun!", but on saturday it was more "win or die trying!" I got hit with that soccer ball more times than I care to count (and yes, it was probably mostly due to the fact that I suck at dodging, but that is beside the point), and I thought more than once that I could very well die playing futbol right there in acuna mexico! But oh it was fun. And if I do say so myself I was holding my ground against those little whippersnappers, but man were they tricky. They taught me some of their tricks, though. Again there was a gospel skit, (which was amazing, let me tell you, put on by some of the other kid leaders, with josh as jesus), and a couple of the boys I had been playing with came and sat by me to listen. Over all that weekend 28 people came to christ! That was awesome. I felt pretty helpless a lot, not being able to say a single meaningful thing, not being able to really say anything. I felt useless, but when I did I just tried my best to win that soccer game with my team of mexican tricksters. And I think that just sitting by them sometimes meant a lot. It was a very stretching experience. It made me wonder what I communicate here, where people do understand me. Do they get two different messages when don't have to be jesus just by my actions? Do I only talk the talk when I don't think about walking the walk? I am not sure if any of this is making sense, but oh well.

I also had a great time getting to know the other people who went on the trip better. Maybe 12 hours in the car with josh leyden was a little much...no, I'm just kidding. It was really fun. Josh thinks he saved my life out there playing soccer, and if you ask him I'm sure he will tell you about it. But all of the kids who went were awesome, and so were the adults. I learned a lot from this trip. I have seldom felt I made such an impact with one weekend. I am thinking of another reliantK line that says,
I noticed
I know this
weekend's a symbol of how I use my time
resented,
I spent it
convincing myself the worlds doing just fine without me...
without me...
not doing anything of any consequence...

Well, I didn't feel like that at all this weekend. And that, friends, is an answered prayer. That, my friends, is how I want my whole life to look. Not forgetting my blessings, not forgetting to ask to be used, not forgetting everything but myself. Not forgetting what God can and wants to do with my life. Yes, though it already seems like a dream, that was a pretty cool weekend.

Don't you love it when I end all serious?!

Megan and I looking glum because our amazing fort did not stand up to the tide. The view from out table at dinner, the sea is behind the trees. And Janet, Megan, me, and my mom at dinner. unfortunately, I kid you not our camera died right before we heard jack johnson! But at least you can have proof that we were at the restaurant!

Pretty Much

Pretty much, I love to say pretty much. I pretty much say pretty much pretty much every other word, in case you haven't pretty much noticed. In fact, I pretty much have a contest with myself pretty much every day to see if I can pretty much say pretty much like 10, 000 times. It pretty much rocks.

Great Stories Entry #1 - Only One Amazing Part of the Best Summer of My Life, A Hawaiian Tale Some of you have probably heard about this, but here it is. Also, I am writing an abbreviated version because I don’t have that much time!

It all started on another day in paradise. I watched the proverbial sunrise, coming up over the pacific and, you might think I’m losing my mind, but I will shy away from the specifics...*

With my best friend, on the beach just as the sky was turning the pale orange shade that comes before the height of its beauty, strolling in the wet sand in the cool breeze, the out-going tide playing tag with our toes, I was inspired. Suddenly, I had the urge to vainly attempt to capture the beauty of the Master's painting in the sky, reflected on His seemingly infinite mirror. So with my very convenient paint kit, I quickly set up my easel and tried to imitate the masterpiece before me. It was a hasty painting, one simply done for the amusement and joy it provided to me, but a fellow stroller in the sweet morning air was enthralled. They watched me until I had finished, and then proceeded to beg me for the painting, though I wasn't very inclined to sell it. But when they suddenly threw out an offer, I realized how badly they wanted it! They were offering ten grand!!! Of course I didn't think it was worth that, but they insisted and I eventually concurred, reluctant but ecstatic! And my pal, Megan, took a picture of us shaking hands right there on the beach, which would have more meaning than we could then know.
We proceeded to have a lovely day, eating ice cream, lounging on the beach, reading, and to top it off, in the late afternoon we found a hole on the beach, and could not resist turning it into a fort. That day we sang the entire song of 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall as we dug and sculpted, as people laughed at us in passing. It was a perfect day. And we ended it by going to a restaurant called the SeaWatch, for its spectacular views of the ocean. It was not supposed to be a very fancy restaurant, we went in shorts, but when we arrived we found that there were three wedding parties going on! There were several people of note there that I am not at liberty to mention by name, but let me just say famous and rich. Every person at the restaurant was dressed to the nines, and the waiters even placed our napkins in our laps (awkward…)! So there we sat with a menu before our unbelieving eyes with appetizers in the $20 range and on up, dressed in shorts, surrounded by beautifully dressed people before such a breath-taking sunset that everything else was forgotten. So forgotten, perhaps, that it caused my friend to spill her ice water all over herself, the table, and the ground! And of course, it was cleaned up from before her by a very cute waiter. But none of that mattered to us four girls, except to add to our abundant, sweet laughter. We sipped lovely drinks, mine being an amazing virgin Lilly Coy, as we watched the sun explode in brilliance over the ocean.
As we sat around the table after our meal, laughing and enjoying one another’s company, with a sweet, mutual feeling of being blessed, we heard some nice tunes. As we listened, we realized that it was Jack Johnson! For the entire last week and a half Jack Johnson had had a permanent section of our brains reserved for his tunes to be stuck in, and I kid you not we were almost constantly singing about being Better Together and wondering, Where’d All the Good People Go? We even had jokes being made up that I’m sure no one but me and Meg would get about songs stuck in our heads like a screen saver…anyways, back to the story.
So as we listened, and yes, sang along with the faint music coming from some part of the lawn where a wedding reception was going on, we heard another song by good ol’ Jack. And we came to the only logical conclusion, it must be Jack himself! Of course! He does live in Hawaii, most likely Maui after all. How lucky were we?! So of course we went to scope it out, Meg and I, with the camera along. We wandered around, down the staircase into the lawn, in the dusk, and we found the wedding party. We hid for a few minutes, checking it out.
Sure enough, there was Jack Johnson on the guitar, with his band, on the other side of the dance floor. We could hardly believe our luck! They ended a set, and said they would take a break and be back, and sure enough, he came right toward us. We stood up and of course asked for his autograph, and as he signed “To Megan” and “To Faith” on scraps of napkin, he stopped and suddenly asked, “Are you Faith Franklin? THE Faith Franklin?!” And I was like, “Well yeah, that’s my name.” He broke into a grin and started going on and on about how fabulous my art was and how inspiring it was, how whimsical and peaceful it was, and how long had I been painting?
I was very confused, as you might guess, but as he explained, I realized that the owner of the SeaWatch restaurant was the person who had bought my painting that morning, he had gotten in framed, and it was hanging in the lobby! Johnny (that’s what we call him) had seen it on his way in, and was wondering if he could possibly contact me about doing his next CD cover, since he hadn’t been too pleased with the last one. He was actually a really nice guy, really down-to-the-beach and completely humble, as though he was unaware of his fame and how much people loved his music across the country and even abroad. We fell into an easy conversation, talked about life, his music, Hawaii, surfing, and I can’t remember what all else. Soon he had to go back to playing (it was a very famous person’s wedding reception), but he invited us to go surfing with him that Saturday. We, of course, said yes, and Megan snapped one of her now-famous self-shots of the three of us “hanging loose”. It had been a great day.
So we had a fabulous Thursday and Friday, gallivanting about Maui, being beach bums, shopping, hiking, snorkeling &c. At one point Johnny left a message on Meg’s phone, something about was it ok if he brought a few of his friends that were going to be in town? And he knew that we would have a great time, he wanted them to meet us. Of course it was fine by us. So Saturday came around, and we almost forgot about our surfing date because we had stayed up all night eating ice cream and talking and watching movies, then we had gone to the beach to watch the sunrise and just decided to stay and play in the waves all day. But we remembered and ended up only being about a half hour late, and it was cool. But when we saw his “friends”, I’m not gonna lie to ya, we pretty much freaked out. IT WAS JOHNNY DEPP AND ORLANO BLOOM!!! Not to mention Kierra Knightly and Elijah Woods! (At least, those are the names they go by in show biz). It turned out they had all been friends since elementary school, and they just planed an impromptu weekend together. So we surfed all afternoon, and Jack and Meg taught us the ropes. It turned out most of the group was even worse than I was at surfing, and Meg and Jack left us all in their foam. Everything was just fabulous until about the time the sun was starting to set. Everyone but Meg and Orlando had gone back to the beach and were just chillin out.
Suddenly, she went down! We waited…and waited…but she didn’t come back up! Orlando was riding a wave, but he jumped his board and dived in after her. For what seemed like hours, there was nothing we could see except the never ending, relentless waves. But they finally came up, Meg passed out and Orland swimming with her as fast as possible toward the shore. By know Jack and Johnny had reached them, and soon enough they were back on the beach, carrying Meg, who was bloody. Orlando was bloody too, looking like a hunk had been torn out of his shoulder. But they listened to her heart beat, and started washing her off as someone called 911. But she woke up, spitting out water and gasping, but OK. She said she was fine, though of course she wasn’t, and the ambulance eventually got there. I rode with her to the hospital, and she talked to me and told me what had happened.
They had been attacked by a shark. She said it was the scariest thing that had ever happened to her, but Orlando had rescued her. He had hit the shark repeatedly over the muzzle with her board, and it had released her leg and had swam away as fast as it could, just trying to get away from that relentless muzzle-smacking. So, a few stitches and a few days later, we all had dinner together to talk over our amazing story.
Now get this. So all of those guys had really gotten together because they were writing a new movie! After hanging out with us, they decided they absolutely needed Meg and I in it, and at dinner they begged us to consider it. So we did. And we got back to them and said that we were in, but only if we got to make up new names, get agents, and would receive our rightful share of the profits. Of course they agreed, because they are just cool like that, and they filmed the movie while we were there. It should be coming out in 2008.
Basically, we are all extremely rich now, and we decided to use our money to buy the most awesome castle in the world and convert it to an orphanage mission. It rocks. And all this happened on one fateful trip to the Hawaiian islands. Pretty much awesome.


A true story by Faith Franklin, October 9, 2006.

*Who I Am Hates Who I've Been, ReliantK