Unexpected Curves

Unexpected Curves

In October, preparing to visit Val’s first mission, I had expected to help, to navigate, not steer.  But a few unexpected curves came our way—in a huge project blossomed and ballooned, where Val was primary in overseeing in his hours not serving as a temple missionary.

More of the travel ticket purchases, looking for lodging, and finding directions landed on my shoulders than I was hoping for.  Ely, a Costa Rican nurse who managed the first "habitation" (five minutes walking from the Costa Rica temple)

eased Val’s jitters, when she told us via phone in English that she sleeps on a tilted bed and assured us she cooks “typical.”  He would not miss out on beans or rice! Then, weeks and days prior to leaving, we met kind new friends who offered to help us find lodging and transportation.   In the throes of packing, I typed up contact information, but as I tried to print, the two week face-lift to temple and guest house hit full swing.  Electricians in the floor above us hit a wire and snuffed all power.  Other apartments came back on quickly, but our ground level remained “out” for three hours.  Internet connections (somehow required for network connection to printer) were squelched and our requested “three hours prior to departure” arrival at Toncontin airport ticked away, sliced by the minute.  

Finally, responding to Spanish/English gesturing and pleas, a visiting sister (on front steps synced laptop efforts with our temple engineer’s traveling web phone) sent phone numbers and itinerary via internet. Then the temple recorder, motioned me into his office, borrowed my jump drive, printed itinerary and contact papers, sending me out the door, to collect bags, catch a taxi, drive to the airport, prepare customs papers, pay $80 exit tax to leave Honduras, and run to our gate to arrive five minutes before boarding.  


Note:  one of us is less comfortable with this type of exit.

As the airplane lifted out of Teguc, and soared over Pacific coast overlooking the green of Nicaragua and Costa Rica between nubias (clouds) to land close to an hour later at the San Jose airport, heart rates had occasion to calm.

But they were in for further exercise the next day.  

A taxi driver drove us to the center of Alejuela, where all the red taxis waited in a row.

 “I will bring you to meet the oldest taxista I know,” and he proceeded to gather addresses for three of the many LDS chapels, looking for what might be the oldest.  And then we began to drive.  The first place we stopped had no plaque with the name of the Church.  Not likely the right place.  But we were out—might as well look.  So we walked a little into the adjoining neighborhood.  



Sure enough, lodged between the houses was a building with tall gates—and a plaque with the correct name.  But the chapel Val remembered had a different shape.  It was smaller.  Upon checking the lock to the gate, we could see that for some reason, on a Tuesday morning, it was open--unusual.  Why not tiptoe inside and peer around?  The chapel was empty.  The classrooms were vacant.  





Our footsteps echoed, but at the end of a long hallway, muffled voices sounded from a door partway ajar.  Val said not to bother the people inside.  But what are we here for?  Forty years of absence is reason for bothering.   Obispo (Bishop) Oscar Fernandez greeted us and explained that this was indeed the oldest chapel in Alejuela. 

Although, he had not witnessed the construction, he had not yet been born when it was built, he told us that his ward was named Villa Hermosa (Beautiful Villa) and the chapel had been added on to become more than double its original size.

What had been a tiny group of families meeting in homes when Val had served there, is now a burgeoning group of congregations, (10 or 12 joined together, called a Stake) which would be split in the coming few months.  He talked about the growth in his country with awe.

"This is the work of the Lord--a stone cut out of the mountain without hands that is filling the earth from Africa, to Siberia; from Honduras to Costa Rica!"

 I met some sister missionaries, a Sister Torres from Teguc,

 while Val walked the grounds of the chapel and wept.

The heavens decided to join in later; drenching us from head to foot (I learned that restroom hand dryers have further functions, like warming soaked tennis shoes) after touring a host of buildings in Desamparados, outside of San Jose.  We waited for 20 minutes in a drizzle to fight the traffic by using public transportation, escorted home by a kind neighbor walking from the bus, near our "habitation."

At the Costa Rica temple Wednesday, we got tips on places to see, and just packed up our belongings and headed west.  Monteverde and Playa Hermosa ended up on the docket, with adventurous places to stay, losing a bus ticket (Yes, Eleanor, it helps to be able to know the days of the week in Spanish!) and chasing a local bus by taxi.

Lessons learned:  it is wise to open eyes before, during, and after the curve.  This morning's language study of Elder Soares'"Be Meek and Lowly of Heart," taught us that "twinkling of an eye" can be translated "un abrir y cerrar de ojos" (or an opening and closing of eyes.)  May your eyes twinkle in the coming days; may your season be joyous!  Laurene and Val Starkey