After spending approximately forever on various modes of transport over the course of 2 days (2 cars, 2 buses, 3 trains, 3 planes), I arrived in Paraguay a few minutes after midnight. Despite being night it was very warm, a sort of 1pm mid-summer in Scotland heat (those rare days). Driving to the SIM HQ I couldn't help but compare Paraguay to the Philippines, just with less signs of extreme poverty.
I'm not sure why I found the journey a toil, especially when now I consider how 100 years ago it would have taken half a year rather than 36 hours. I have read accounts of missionaries who got very ill en-route to their destinations on the other side of the world, and some lost family members. The only time of real discomfort for me was of no comparison, just 8 hours overnight in the cold Heathrow bus terminal on an uncomfortable metal seat which produced only 3 minutes of sleep.
The highlight of the journey was flying over Madrid: the sky was totally clear and it made the city look so amazing. I remember vowing to never go to Spain after Elisabeth forced the FM students to endure a Spanish 'classic' film at college which left us hugely underwhelmed, but now I'd like to see it again (Spain, not Elisabeth's film). I remember also vowing to never learn Spanish. When in Japan I vowed to never go back to Edinburgh as I hated it, but God took me back to it and over 3 years made me appreciate it much. I think the message God is constantly telling me is don't reject any of His creation.
There, 3 tangents and no conclusion! Tired.
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