HCJB made me feel welcome right away. Anne Cliffe gave me a quick introduction to the ministry. There are about 250 missionaries in Ecuador with 400 local employees. They have over 1000 missionaries world wide. I had no idea that it was so big.

Apparently HCJB is so often faced with people coming to help on the short term that they have a working visitor program. I should have come through the program but they accepted me any way.

I met Jim Borg who is designing the penstock for a new hydroelectric generator. He says he needs my design expertise. He treated me to lunch and afterwards invited me to dinner at his home. I feel greatly accepted--however I am not an expert on penstocks so I will be a bit rusty.

I immediately start making a computer simulation of the penstock using Excel. This work is what I was trained for so I feel very useful. I apparently came at the perfect time and they want me to stay as long as possible. God has directed this as he has with so much of my trip.

We have a devotion time every morning at 8:00am. This is a great thing for an engineering group to do together since we are so project focused we tend to forget the big picture.

At 3pm on Fridays there is also a one hour devotional in Spanish which includes some of the Spanish speakers in the Engineering office. At 4pm on Fridays is an HCJB wide meeting for keeping everyone tuned with what HCJB is doing. This is also in Spanish except for an American visiting speaker.

I stood up and explained in Spanish what I was doing, I think they understood… mostly they are American missionaries and know ' Spanglish ' anyway.

A couple of the visiting workers named JP and Andrew invited me to go on a train ride to Latacunga. It is kind of a 'traveler' thing to do. It was a long endurance and not exactly worthwhile. The idea was to sit on top of the train car and take in the beautiful scenery as it went by, volcanoes, rivers, farms, and people.

As it turned out the clouds were low and no mountains were in sight. There was only one train car to sit on and 40 other people had the same Idea. The seat was on 18 inch wide piece of steel plate welded to the top of the train care with a section of angle iron welded to the edge of the roof to brace your feet against. We were so cramped for space there was no comfortable position. We tried to lean against the person in with their back to us but found it very difficult to relax. The engine sent diesel smoke blowing into our eyes and it was cold. Trying to maintain a positive attitude about spending $16 for this trip wore off pretty quickly. Perhaps I've done too many of these types of things just for the experience. At a convenient stop I hopped off the roof and went inside the train car where I was far more comfortable.

Was there any eternal value in this train ride? I don't think so. I wonder about many of the choices I make.

At 10 am another working visitor name John Martin met me on the trolley and we went to the prison. I was not exactly prepared for what I say there. It was chaos! The prison is built in the shape of a star with perhaps four floors in eight wings. We entered though one wing passing three iron gates. At the center men were milling randomly between wings appearing to be completely free to do whatever they wanted within the prison.

A plaza of an odd shape was between each wing open to the sky. We met several men immediately who clearly were waiting our arrival. There was Paul, Sifredo, Travis and Steve and then more than a dozen others that greeted us and went on about their business.

We stood in one of the open plazas and chatted for perhaps 15 minutes. In one corner I noticed a man sitting alone doing something with his arm, John said he was doing drugs. Another man joined him and they appeared to be preoccupied with it for some time, unafraid of being caught. Apparently drugs are very cheap, 60 cents a hit. The guards are in on the dealing of drugs.

Two holes in the wall appeared to be a means of communication as well as a way to pass contraband around in the prison. One of the prisoners that we were speaking with said that on the other side owas the incoming inmates. If they had a nice shirt or something it cwould be taken from them and sold in the prison. A new comer has very little defenses.

Paul got caught for running drugs but seems to be a committed believer. He is from South Africa. He said he had just spoken with a new prisoner who is from South Africa, he was very concerned to 'find' a cell for this new man. He said if he had enough money he could buy a cell for this new fellow. The cell system works on money. Somehow the wealthier inmates are able to actually own their cells. Sometimes they rent out their cells or even own additional cells. A new comer must have money to buy a decent cell or be satisfied with living like a sardine with about six others in a very small cell.

The whole experience of entering the prison was very disconcerting. Men wandered everywhere, looking me up and down sizing me up for what they possibly could 'get' from me. My defenses were alerted very quickly. I mentally checked my pockets to see if I really had left my wallet at home. The idea is to only bring in the minimum. John brings in a lot of books and sometimes food. Sometimes he buys them lunch at the little kiosk in the hall way.

We had Bible study which somehow got on the topic of "God is in Control". It was a bit painful to talk about it when there was so much that appeared out of his control all around us.

Afterward one of the prisoners, Sifredo pulled out a bag of his art work. He makes very nice glass vases out of old florescent tubes. In prison he has the right to have a propane bottle and burner in his room. He sells them for $3 each. He gave me two, which I said I would pay for next week. This would never happen in a prison in America.

Sifredo has a very sad story. He was in the 6th year of Bible school and spent much time at the prison ministering to people. As a favor he took a package out of the jail to mail for a friend. At the post office they checked it and found drugs. He got one year. He has about 3 months left to serve of this sentence. Right now he is very active as a prison pastor. I very much enjoy speaking with him because it is clear that his spirit is right before God.

The prison experience yesterday was exciting. I brought a small Spanish new testament in with me and a tall Negro came by and pointed to it on impulse I gave it to him and then looking at Paul I realized I had done the wrong thing. Paul told me he was a trouble maker and he would just sell it to make money, for drugs or something else. I would have been much better off giving it to a Christian.

Paul is in trouble with his debts, someone threatened him this week with a knife. First they stab your leg, if you don't pay soon after that they beat you on the arms with the back side of a machete or something on that order. After that it is the front side of the machete and you die. A couple of people have died in the last few months over very small debts, like 50 cents.

John asked me if could help give him some money. I was reluctant knowing that to begin giving money often tailspins and the friendship is destroyed. I always want to work in principles in order to keep from getting sucked into something, and things are not always as desperate as they appear. Yet, to love someone may include breaking my principles. This is always a dilemma in prison work.

Within the same hour Paul was offered a job at a small cafe in the prison and it became clear that he would be able to begin making payments on some of his debts. God is good.

Bruce, John and I went in to the prison again, this time to celebrate Thanksgiving with the American prisoners. Bruce invited about 10 people from the English fellowship Church to come in and we had about 12 prisoners that participated. The little chapel room was packed. This was a very beneficial event, half of the men were not believers but were totally relieved to have an American holiday. It made me realize the value of what we were doing.

One man said I haven't had turkey for 4 years. Another said it was strange to hear the words 'There's plenty more!' Food in the prison is not nourishing and men must have money of their own to get vegetables in their diet.

Today John chose to pay off Paul's debts. Before the meal he went through all the prison and met each person and paid the debt. Paul was floating. Prison debt is like nothing else, often threatened with a machete, Paul was very fearful much of the time. His debts amounted to about $50, but in this prison that is a fortune. For Paul this was indeed a great day of Thanksgiving.

The struggle of principle versus love had worked itself to a conclusion.

At 6am Bruce , John and I along with a well drilling expert named Paul went to a one of Bruce's water project sites. Bruce has been working to provide fresh water to remote Quechua communities for many years. We first visited a project that was complete except the people were only using the water 4 yours per week. They would not let the water pump go long enough to fill their reservoir at the top of the mountain. The people would leave their faucets on so that it was nearly impossible to fill up the tank. The last pump burned up and they weren't about to let the new one go the same way. It was a classic case of village people not understanding a new-fangled gizmo provided by the genius missionaries, so it never works correctly though nothing is wrong with the system. Bruce spent several hours explaining that they must let it run. Bruce says he prefers to put in a pipeline from a remote spring than to drill a new well on the site that requires understanding and maintenance.

The next site was in the beginning stages. Our job was to locate the sites for new water tanks to be located on top of hills. Bruce spent many hours just talking with the people so that everyone understood what was being done. About 20 men followed us and watched and talked.

John and I ultimately were unable to offer any significant service and so we spent our time exploring the future in conversation.

Before leaving the village we first were honored with a cuy roast. This is Guinea Pig, farmed and fatted for distinguished guests. The cuy was served on a bed of boiled potatoes… laying on its belly with its teeth sticking out front. It tasted just like chicken, although if the people knew that I thought that they would have been insulted for sure. Actually the more unpalatable part of the meal was the 'avena' which is a cold drink made of oatmeal. It's texture was a little too slippery and unfortunately was neither hot nor cold. It reminded me of a famous Bible verse in Revelation which I tried hard not to perform.

We passed a few notable mountains on the way, Tungurahua was active and we could see it smoking like a chimney. Chimborazo was loaded with snow, a non-active volcanic cone. Cotopaxi is active but dormant for now. At 5897 meters (19,347 ft.) it is the second highest peak in Ecuador. (See Photos)