No Hay Agua

“He said to them, ‘Do you still not understand?” (Mark 8:21).

Jesus knows I do not yet understand many things, despite the signs of God’s love surrounding me everywhere all the time.

This morning I had my interview with the language program coordinator. She determined that it is more appropriate to place me in an intermediate-level class. Therefore, my schedule will be altered temporarily. I will have classes from 1 to 5 p.m. on weekdays for the next two weeks, beginning today. After March 1, when several students complete their studies, everyone will attend morning classes, 8 a.m. to 12 p.m. For the six-week course, I will be coupled with one other student, who is a seminarian with the Maryknoll Fathers from Kenya. The coordinator tells me we will make a good balance in the classroom: he is unafraid to say anything in Spanish, correct or incorrect, whereas I speak less but speak precisely.

I hope I have the stamina to make it to five o’clock these next two weeks. And I’m really tired today. I did not sleep much last night because I was preoccupied with the inconvenience of having no water. As best as I could piece it together, because of fire department activity, the city had to shut off or empty the convent’s water tank or something like that. Last night, when I asked one friar how long the water would be cut off, he said an hour at most. Well, after a restless night worrying about it, the water remained turned off at sunrise. See—what’s the use of worrying? Another takeaway: a cold shower is better than no shower. Not to have the basic convenience of water has hit me like a slap in the face. But this is normal, the language program coordinator said. Memo to the ugly American: Hello, poverty, I guess.

I’m more tired feeling than angry. But I don’t feel too sociable right now, and not only because I feel grubby and fear my odor might give offense. “The mother of Jesus said to him, ‘They have no wine’ ” (John 2:3). Well, at least they had some water! I suppose my interior water tank is getting near empty again, for the first time since I arrived almost a week ago. And there’s four hours of intermediate-level language immersion ahead every day for the next two weeks in the afternoon, when I usually lose my first wind but don’t yet catch the second wind. Oh well. On the one hand I am pleased to have been told I am at a more advanced level of proficiency. On the other hand, it does raise the stakes. Time to be pushed to the limit. Do I want to go there? “Yes?” I answer, because I can’t quite put a period or exclamation point there today. But we’re going forward anyway. I’ve seen too many signs of God’s favor to turn back. Yes, Jesus, I do not understand the signs. I will therefore go forward anyway.