Missionary Gas

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the danger of walking around a city where over 2 million people are mixed up with cars and motorbikes. To complement this, on Sunday morning we had a real-life scaletrix experience as we journeyed to church. For those in the UK taxis are a pleasant luxury, a poor man´s chauffeur service. Here they're the cheap and risky option of being hurtled across town. Public transport works on the principle that roads are a race track to collect passengers, get rid of them and then get more. They offer an Alton Towers experience. So ou r taxi speeded along a busy dual carriageway. Unfortunately, it aimed directly towards the back of a line of stopp e d vehicles, and at a speed that needed a James Bond solution. But thanks to your prayers: Olwen shrieked, the driver said "Oh", and milliseconds before impact we swerved into a lane of moving traffic without hitting anyone. The driver blamed the polic

It's been a bad time for the students. A week ago it was announced they would loose their free mid-morning coffee, that those who hadn't paid their fees would no longer be served meals and that no funds had arrived for student grants. Being £45,000 in debt the Seminary could no longer afford any more subsidies. The thing that is noticeable is that we have not heard one student complain, and there's a hundred of them. They're not the type that would keep quiet. What's more, Friday was the national Teacher's Day, and the students put on a meal for us, gave us a present, and not too offensively did impersonations of us. In the hands of an amazingly wise God, the global financial crisis can bring about the unimaginable. And since the announcement not one student has gone without food. Photo: Bit of a shock for 1st years

They say before an accident some people's minds go blank. What sticks in my mind was the shiny silver colour of the 4x4's bonnet feet away and still coming. It had appeared from nowhere and I couldn´t get out of its way. One of Fiona Christie´s first impressions of Medellín was that she was more likely to be killed by one of the city´s 250,000 motorbikes than by FARC. At least I was going up-market and being splattered under a 4x4. There are two basic principles of traffic. Firstly, rules are guidelines only, unless the police are present. Daily I wait at lights that turn red, a green man appears and then I still keep on waiting as buses, lorries and motorbikes become colour blind. The second thing is that drivers assume pedestrians are idiots who wander on to roads and treat cars as if they're part of some kind of Gameboy competition. One local street trader even pretends he's a matador as he dodges in and out of four lanes of moving traffic. And so it was that the 4x4

Friday was a holiday and like other city dwellers, we climbed up a hill not far away. There are two hills in the valley which stick up like giant green pimples. When we reached the top we sat on a wall, looked over the city and watched the kite fliers just in front of us. Kite flying is a seasonal hobby that comes with the winter winds. The kites are home-made using bamboo supports and are up to 3 metres long. One of them flew across the valley and was a distant dot. Others arose vertically towards the flight path of planes approaching the city airport. Another dipped dangerously low and Olwen became most concerned for its well-being but wisely resisted the temptation to get involved. I just love sitting on a wall and being part of ordinary society. I'd like to think it's an example of incarnational theology, but maybe it's that I'm just too worldly. Photo: Plane makes it way past the kites