Rebecca and I went to the Iglesia del Nazareno "La Trinidad" today instead of College Church.

I felt pretty much out of place from the minute I saw the sign that said Iglesia del Nazareno. Rebecca had to practically drag me up the stairs. I didn't know I'd get so scared. I expected to walk in and see a room full of dark faces turn as one and fix their Mexican eyes on me in a stare that said, "A white person. What's she doing here?" But actually, the church was really small, the pastor and his wife were white, and they greeted us in English and were super super friendly. I was so relieved. They had disarming smiles; I honestly feel as if I've never encountered such nice people before.

Singing in Spanish was fun. Spanish I don't understand, but music I do. I harmonized as if I were singing in English... That was my favorite part of the service, I think. That and how nice the pastor and his wife were.

We stood to read Scripture together. That was cool. We read it in Spanish, of course. I'm at least learning how to pronounce Spanish, so I read along with everyone, but I didn't know what I was saying. Rebecca, who actually speaks pretty good Spanish (she spent a few months in Guatemala), translated for me on her notebook. The sermon was on 1 Kings 17:8-16, about Elijah and the widow of Zarephath, and how God will provide for us if we have the faith.

The church was so small. There were only about 25 people there. And then there was me and Rebecca and a whole row of NNU students behind us. (Okay, it was only four or six people. But it seemed like a lot in such a small church.) They were there because they are going to Venezuela with Gene over Christmas break. Rebecca was there for fun and for moral support for me. :) I was there because attending a church of another culture is a requirement for my multicultural field experience.

Most people greeted us in English. One man who looked about 60 greeted Rebecca with, "�Como se llama?"

"Me llamo Rebecca," said my roommate.

He turned to me. I got scared. But he just held out his hand to me expectantly.

"Stephanie," I said, taking his hand.

"�De donde eres?" he asked Rebecca.

I didn't even hear what she said. I was at that stage of fear where you can't even hear anything because your anxiety level is so high.

So when he turned to me, I looked at Rebecca with a frantic look.

"Where are you from?" she said to me.

"Oh. C***********, **," I said. He finally realized that I didn't speak Spanish and switched to English.

He spoke perfectly good English and actually used to teach at NNU. Did I know that? No, I did not know that! And so when he spoke to me in English I answered him slowly and kept my answers simple. I hate that. You read, "Don't talk slowly as if they're stupid," and you do it anyway! What's the deal?? So anyway, I learned very quickly that he used to teach at NNU and in fact started the class that I had to go to this church for and suffered a little humiliation. His son works at the Dex, too, at the station I always go to. The guy that works there most of the time is named Judah. I thought that was a strange name to choose, because it's a "j" sound and the Spanish "j" is always an "h", and Judah is not Judah unless it's said Joodah, but decided that's who this man was talking about. He informed me, "No. Juan."

Ah. Juan. Hwahn. Not Joodah.

He left soon after that, and I wondered if Rebecca would forgive me if I took her car and drove myself back right now. I obviously did NOT belong here.

But I stayed put. It was mainly just that one man. He was intimidating. And I was already intimidated. I felt like I looked like a deer in headlights when he turned those stern eyes on me asking, "�De donde eres?" Usually the deer-in-headlights look gets some sympathy, but not this man. I was glad he didn't talk to us after the service ended, and even more glad that the really nice pastor and his wife did talk to us.

LOL. I'm looking up Spanish words for "guys" for the title of this entry, and one sentence example on WordReference.com has "guapo" in it. I know that means handsome, but it doesn't sound like a very handsome word. It reminds me of droppings or something. I told my roommate as much, and she said, "I guess you have to get used to it." And then, with a little laugh, "Because when I heard you say 'guapo' I thought, 'WHERE?!'" LOL! My roommate is so funny.

Anyway, about los muchachos. (My roommate said that's a word that basically just means "guys.")

After church, Rebecca and I went to brunch at the Dex. Josh sat with us. It wasn't too uncomfortable, which was nice. On the way back, he and a girl we'd been sitting with, Terra, walked off in the direction of Olsen and the duplexes, while Rebecca and I walked off in the direction of Corlett. "That Josh...," said Rebecca. I looked at her expectantly. "He's a weird one."

"Weird?" I asked. Why did she think he was weird?

"Yeah. I don't know, but he's just weird."

I guess he's different. But he's never struck me as weird. It got me thinking and frustrated again about him. I still think we have zero things in common. But I still feel obligated to maintain a friendship with him, since I've gone this long. And he did ask me out. I feel like I shouldn't insult him by not being friends with him. We just don't have anything in common, though...

In our apartment, I sighed and tried to ask a question of Rebecca. But I didn't know what I wanted to ask. "What?" asked Rebecca.

I sighed again. "Nothing."

"Nothing? I heard that sigh. Is this about boys?"

"Yes...," I admitted reluctantly to her. Have I mentioned that she can read my mind and I can read hers? :)

I didn't go any further than that. I honestly didn't know what I wanted to ask. So she let it go.

Boys, boys, boys. I hardly even talk to them and I'm in this much of a quandary about them. I can't imagine how things would be if I was social and spent time with them! Ugh.

Boys.

But to be honest, Diary--and everyone else--I like the boys-on-the-brain me better than the anti-boys me that I was my first year and a half or so of college.

-Stephanie

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