From the Bell Tower

Last night Lizzy and I had an amazing experince, let me paint a picture...

I sat on the cool concrete, my feet dangling over the dimly lit, damp, narrow passageway that had giuded us to the top of the bell tower. The sun was just setting and the warm glow of evening settled around us. A warm breeze occasionally wisped a peice of hair into my eyes and made the tip of my dress dance around my calves. Lizz sat in a wide window that held a bell right above her, chiming four times every fifteen minutes. To my right there was a tall man maybe late thirtees with a cross aound his neck, he had unlocked the door to allow us a glimps of the city from high. To my left was another, in a casual button down shirt, wispy hair and striking blue eyes filled with..passion, anger, curiosity. He too appeared to be early thirtees.

The conversation had progressed from the usual polite, where are you from, what are you doing, what did you study. Theology?? They said suprised at Lizzy´s answer. Well I´ve never had a conversation with a theologan before! Lizzy looked as little nervous and smiled at their admiration. Imediatly the conversation diversed from one of polite smiles and chit chat (I´ve had my fill thank you) to one of questions, challenges and argument.

Sitting on my cool ledge, I tried intently to understand everything that was being spoken. Of all the conversations I had found myslef in here, this is the one I wanted to be involved in the most. I understood most of what was being said, even through the rapid argument and responses. The man with peircing blue eyes was frustrated with the church, saying it has the potential to do so much more than it is doing now. He wanted to see change. Change in Honduras, in the world. He yearned for it, you could tell in the way her furrowed his eyeborws, and asked questions with his hands outstretched and his voice slightly raised that he had thought often of this, read many books, been in many discussions only to remain waiting, furstrated. A seemingly ordinary man with una tempistad brewing just beneath the suface.

I could relate to this man. In the times that I chimed in,
The people the people! That is where there is change. The church has so much power with the people. we must start from the bottom and work our way to the top.
He eagerly agreed. Adding the importance of cultivating every individuals spirituality, to then make transformations.

Arguments continued, and during the times when my concentration lapsed a little (understanding a heated conversation in spanish takes a lot out of me!) I sat back and observed the situation. Here we are at the top of the Cathederal´s bell tower, bells chiming every so often, the old clock worker sticking his head up at one point: permiso, but are the bells chiming okay? Four on this bell, six on the other? Bueno, he said and returned back down the stairs. A light in the high left corner, flickering on just long enough to illuminate our faces, to shed light onto vivid expressions of laughter, andger or frustration, only to flicker off leaving us with just slightly more than silouettes as the day faded into night. Two hours of conversation continued in this way until we all made our way down the virtually pitch black corridor.

What a night. I thought. I will remember this one forever.

I could write and write and write about more, and maybe i will but now lizzy is tapping her foot impatiently next to me, we are off to the capital!!! Much love