When we had finally sat down to tea on the corner of Aroma and Ayacucho, I began to realize how right I was.One of the four young girls we were seated with was the same who only weeks ago had betrayed her true identity as the Christ. Now, as clefa fumes filled our lungs (which was most unavoidable since the half of us were inhaling every moment the police were out of sight), this was confirmed.
When we arrived at the Terminal, two gringos and two middle-class Bolivians, we certainly did not blend in.We met up in an area generally not frequented in the evening hours by people like us and crossed over to a corner where cleferos and cleferas could be found around this time any night.That is where we found three of our new friends, the forth met up with us conveniently as we sat down for tea.They were evidently quite high courtesy of the clefa they had been sniffing since early that afternoon (clefa is glue used by shoe repairmen, looks like liquid honey, and smells like rubber cement).We started up some awkward conversation.They responded as longtime friends and made us feel quite welcome on their corner of this world.
So, back to sitting for tea, which was when it dawned upon me that these four girls would never be so welcomed into our homes as we had been welcomed into theirs (and I dare not speak of our churches!).Thus, Jesus confirmed.I have heard that he was one to welcome all, to interact with those around him indifferent to their differences, loving all the same.
I returned that night (only four days past) and thought about how they would have undoubtedly all invited my company for the rest of the evening and night if I should have accepted such an offer.I thought, too, of how though I had pondered it a moment, I decided I
could would not have invited their company, even though I am sure they would have, indeed, accepted such an offer.
I am not sure what I ought to do with this realization.