Yesterday at 7:30, Percy and I loaded up the pig into the truck bed. Lucrecia went with us to town to try to sell it to the butchers. No one wanted it. Finally, one lady offered to buy it. She said it weighed only 25-30 kilos. She would give us S/5 per kilo, about half the going rate for what I figured was half the weight.
We said no and tried multiple other places. Lucrecia suggested going up to their village above Compone to try selling it kilo by kilo, going door to door. She started calling people while we headed that way.
By the time we got to the village, people were gathering in the village center. We parked there and sold a number of kilos in a few minutes. People were in a hurry because the bell was ringing for mass. It was a holy day.
After the first burst of selling, it slowed down. We drove through the village, stopping whenever we found someone. Nearly everyone bought a kilo or two.
I was about jumping out of my skin because every five minutes, a huge BOOM! would go off directly above our heads. They were setting off explosions at the Catholic church; they were supposedly fireworks but went off like dynamite.
I felt just like the goats in the village looked. They would come off the ground every time a shot went off. Each time I would jump and shout, Percy would say, “Jefe! ¿Estás bien? Lo siento.” (Boss! Are you okay? I’m sorry.) Then he and Lucrecia would burst into laughter.
We sold around 55 kilos at S/10 per kilo–almost twice what we were offered in town. And I had fun meeting all the people, most of whom were Percy and Lucrecia’s relatives. Every person received their yapa of meat; that is a custom of giving extra. The more they bought, the larger the yapa. We figure we handed out up to 65 kilos of meat. We took 10 kilos of ribs back with us, bringing the carcass weight to around 75 kilos. That’s a bit more than 25!
Percy remembered when we sold the boar pig, Jubinal insisted it weighed only 35 kilos. I had tried to explain the poor logic of a huge pig weighing less than I do, but Percy agreed with Jubinal about the weight, so we sold the pig for less than I’d wished. After selling the smaller sow, it was obvious the boar had weighed several times more than what we sold him for. Lesson learned.
Percy said selling the pig was a buen negocio and that we should consider doing it more often. Lucrecia said if he enjoyed it so much, we could just grab one of the pigs running around the village and keep on. Because it was mass and a holy day, all the people were getting drunk. She figured they wouldn’t notice a missing pig. It was sort of a joke, but it was pretty close to the truth.
Percy told me he and Lucrecia went back up to the village in the afternoon and helped some of their family who they knew would be too drunk to do their chores. When they came in the evening to do chores, they had to help the lecheros because they could hardly walk and couldn’t tie the cows. This is the sadness of the religion of our Catholic friends; it brings them only more trouble.
After lunch, I went to Cusco with Rafael who insisted on helping me get the process for replacing my stolen paperwork started. That meant an afternoon of standing in lines. I told him I didn’t want him to waste his time, but he scoffed, “After all you’ve done for us, David! Let me help you!” That is a hugely generous point of view.
We did get my bank card sorted. The bank lady said she couldn’t do anything without a police report. How grateful I was that Percy had insisted I get one! She asked me a number of questions about my account that I did not understand. I was glad for Rafael at my side to help.
We went to the Ministerio de Transporte to get my license. We stood in a long line, but when we got to the the door, the man said we couldn’t enter without an appointment. That will be another day.
Migraciones closed before we got there, but I figure that won’t take long to get a replacement carnet card. Last time, we only waited a day or so for the card to be made after the paperwork was in place.
We went to drop Rafael’s truck off at a mechanic shop. The owner wasn’t there but said he’d show up in half an hour. We waited an hour before Rafael called again. The man was almost there! About an hour later, he showed up. What’s nearly two hours of waiting?
While we went from one place to another, Rafael read his Bible. On the way home, he took me to a coffee shop a friend of his owns. While we walked, he told me in exclamations about how he’d just read the Crucifixion story in the Book of John. He’d never read it before.
He was incredulous about how Jesus had been made to suffer. “David! He was innocent! Even the Roman governor knew He was innocent!” I told Him that Jesus went through all that for us. I said how ungrateful we must be to go our own way in disobedience when Jesus gave His life for us. Rafael said, “It brings me to tears to see Jesus that way.”
Did God take my wallet and my pig so I could have those conversations with Percy and Rafael? I don’t know. But I am really thankful for those open moments. It’s such a joy to see God working around us.
Lucrecia said she would make chicharrón for us for supper (Sorry you couldn’t be here, Jolynn!). Chicharrón is pig meat that is boiled and then deep-fried through a process that infuses it with flavor from herbs that are put into the oil. It’s very good.
I got to Izcuchaca around 8:15. Percy offered to come pick me up with the truck. They insisted on waiting until I got back to eat because “the jefe needs to be here.” Steph said the children thought they were perishing from hunger. I think the food was worth the wait.
At bedtime, I had the girls put our doeling Glenda into a box with towels to keep her warm. Steph had been feeding her milk and jello throughout the day to try to get her strength back, but she continued to fade. As the girls lifted the young goat into her box, she died in their arms.
Yes, we had another loss, but I count the day as a gain. I think God is reaching hearts through our difficult times. Please pray for the enemy to be held back as the Spirit works to bring light to these dear hearts.