Missionary Gas

Colombia's President warned people to moderate their language otherwise lives would be lost. Yesterday I went out to take photographs. Around the corner at some kind of political association the rough looking men immediately scattered when I took out my camera. It's all to do with the local council elections and over 20 candidates have been killed. The voting is tomorrow (Sunday) and bars will be shut, gas isn't allowed to be delivered to prevent superbombs going off and the trains are free. Posters warn that selling your vote isn't an educated thing to do and peak-time TV carries how-to guides about filling in the voting form. It's difficult for politically apathetic Brits to get their minds around the passion, lawlessness and violence of Latin American politics. This is the world of coups, dictatorships and anarchy. Colombia's main trading partner, Venezuela, is undergoing a Castro-style revolution. Southern neighbours Ecuador and Bolivia are starting to desta

He sat in the café watching for me. Unfortunately today, with Olwen being with me, we took a detour to a sewing shop, arrived by a different route, and he missed me. His secretary had to phone down to the café and within a minute he was there. Twice this has happened now. I am talking about my dentist. Olwen is convinced that he gets his living from his four Seminary missionary patients. I like to think he's getting himself relaxed to provide pain-free treatment. Either way it illustrates the kind of personalised medical treatment you get in Latin America. No long waiting lists and no rushed care. If there are dentists in heaven, it would be like this. Even in poorer Peru, for the birth of our children, Olwen's gynae doctor attended their births as normal practice. What is different however is that this is only for those who live in the big cities, and can pay. Otherwise the consequences are more frightening and more painful. Photo: Also waiting - o

There are things that missionaries do that they would rather not report to the churches which are supporting them. Usually this involves something that is unacceptable if done at home. This weekend was such an occasion. Olwen had accepted an invitation to speak at a weekend institute in another part of Colombia. What she didn't realize, until it was too late, was that she would also preach on Sunday. This not in a tinhut kind of setup, but a 2,000 strong congregation, and she would preach twice. The last I saw of her preparation was a big bit of blank paper with "Buenos días" written on it. To complicate things the town had gone on to military alert because thousands of men from the country had arrived apparently under pressure from the terrorists. Two pastors have been killed in recent months and political elections are due soon. She's now home, and is constantly talking about the self-giving and Christ-likeness of those she met. And that is what makes the apparently

The Santa Marta beaches are plagued every day with those offering coral necklaces, body massages and £2.50 Rolex watches. After a few days you get to know these repetitive sales people and Olwen gave a Christian booklet to one watch seller. He was all excited because he had just started attending church with another watch seller. This brought both of them along daily looking for New Testaments. Later that week in a market I saw a girl reading a Bible, she told me she was studying Romans 7 and working out about the spiritual battle. On our last day Olwen led me down a street full of clothing material shops; the boredom almost drove me to tears as we looked for hammock material for the sewing room. Eventually we found metres of the stuff, and the woman who served us was a dedicated Christian lady. Being a Christian in South America is not something you're expected to keep quiet about. That is just the way it is. It makes a "Tell Scotland" kind of evangelistic campaign seem