Now your cooking with gas!

When I was working construction my boss loved to use the expression "now we're cooking with gas" which meant that the crew was working like a machine; we had the right place, the right set-up, the right tools, and things were getting done. I guess it was in contrast to wood stove cooking or some other less efficient heat source from the 'old country'. Almost everyone in Lima cooks with gas...in the kitchen at least. When it comes to many other areas of life though, it seems more like embers. So, we are learning the 'BBQ' lifestyle; you know, the charcoal syle. And no, you can't use lighter fluid! In the process we are needing to learn patience, and to daily commit to the Lord the activities of the day. Our prayers were answered this week to have all of the necessary parts and pieces and persons together to get our gas stove and other appliances hooked up in our apartment! We are very thankful that soon we should be able to move from the college into our own apartment. Although very sparesly equipped at the moment, we hope to start 'camping' at the apartment beginning tomorrow night. Yeh!

We are also very thankful for the people who are making our transition easier by helping us with transportation and knowing where to go to get this, that or the other thing. This is especially true of navigating the goverment bureaucracy....

We arrived after 30 minutes in front of a non-descript brown building somewhere in Lima. Getting out of the taxi I really didn't know where in Lima we were; my directions here still get very mixed up. No sign, no big wall or gate, but the guard at the door gave away that it was some sort of official building. Mesod pointed towards the entrance and with a terse nod the guard let us into the lobby. Looking around I started to think that this was what I had imagined the KGB offices to look like in the books I read as a kid. Mesod had done this before and we went directly to the adjoining room where I would be registered by INTERPOL before I would be able to process my resident card. Flourescent lights struggled to light the roughly 500 square foot room. Most of the 20 chairs in the waiting section were empty. One man was being fingerprinted. Shelves in the corner were sagging with the weight of cardboard storage boxes. In front of the shelves there was a workstation from the 50's, with a computer from the same era and a desk draped with a crooked green blanket. In the other corner stood a privacy barrier like the one you might have seen in a Nightengale nursing ward. Chipped hospital-green paint and cloth curtain separated the waiting area from the exam area. I had heard about 'that' part of the process, but right here in the waiting room?! Even though Mesod does not speak much English, I was very happy to have him there to direct me as the officials were taking me through the photo taking, paperwork, finger printing and finally 'the exam'. I'm sure now that people must have just been having a good laugh telling us gringos about the strip search that was part of the INTERPOL process - it is actually just a short look at the teeth for a dental record :)

Another day, another taxi, another government office, more pictures, more fingerprints, more paper work and voila we're done. Officially permitted to be here as a missionary! Now we're cooking with gas!