BUENOS AIRES/MAR DEL PLATA: After leaving Uruguay, I had only a few days to do all that I wanted or needed to do. From traveling south over 400 kilometers in search of the Argentine revival to catching up and saying goodbye to my friends, everything had to be squeezed into a few days. Time To Move On While working on the house in Uruguay with my new friends, the Goodmans, I was still trying to decide which day I needed to return to Buenos Aires. I knew my days were fast running out and the longer I remained here the less time I would have to finalise my affairs in Buenos Aires when I returned. It was late Wednesday night, just as I was about to climb into my bed, that I heard that familiar voice, although in reality it could be described as more of a whisper. It was the same voice that had led me to Argentina, and the same one that now had me here in Uruguay, and once again I was hearing it. I knew what it was. It was the small voice of God. That night was when I knew that I had to return to Buenos Aires the next day. Throughout the next morning I argued with God against this sudden move, but by lunch time I knew this was what I needed to do. The Goodmans took my news well, even though there was not much of the day left now before I had to leave. Catching The Bus Dinner was the usual fare and afterward we all gathered our coats and headed down to the bus stop on the bikes. Grace had picked up my bus ticket already so we did not need to ride all the way to the bus station, but could wait instead for the bus at the end of their road. This was where a small roundabout circled the main transit route, providing on and off points for the traffic. The bus arrived, and my backpack was quickly stowed underneath by the conductor. There were other people boarding the bus also, so I proceeded to farewell each of my new friends. Only part way through the process, Chris alerted me to the fact that I may want to hurry things along as the bus was not waiting for me. Thinking that the driver was indicating his impatience I rushed the end of my farewells and then as I pulled out a farewell card from my bag I turned to check on the bus. It was not there. It was already driving off down the road. The card I had written as a farewell fell to the ground as I spun around and took off running after the bus. Because of the roundabout, the bus had not yet gained too much speed and I was able to catch up to it with a sprint. The open door provided a handle inside with which I launched myself up into the bus as it continued to accelerate down the road. How thankful I was that closing the doors on the bus takes a low priority on the driver's schedule of things to do. The surprised conductor and driver stared at me as I then casually wandered down the aisle to my seat and settled in for the long drive to Montevideo. It was only later, when the conductor was checking tickets, that he realised that he had forgotten me. For the next five minutes I listened to his apology of which I could understand very little. This was the last bus of the day. If I had not made this bus then I would have had to wait until tomorrow to catch up with my bag. I was glad to be here. It was fine now though, I had made it onboard. Unexpected Connections The first boat back to Buenos Aires left at 6am in the morning so I planned for my long overnight wait in Montevideo. At 1am, when we finally arrived at the bus terminal in Montevideo, there was a great line of people waiting. Curious as to why, I made some inquiries about what they were doing there. There was a boat returning to Buenos Aires right now. The bus connection was leaving in 15 minutes. Having planned so much, at first I considered waiting for the 6am boat. Ten minutes later I realised it would be better to be traveling during this time than sitting around waiting, so I quickly bought my ticket. By this time the line of people had disappeared into the bus. A panicked run to the bus left me sitting there with the others for a further five minutes, but at least I was here. The bus took us to Colonia del Sacramento where we boarded the boat for Buenos Aires, a six hour journey in total. I was back on Argentine soil by 7am. Visiting YWAM Friends After a busy day of chasing my tail as I tried to complete what I needed to do before leaving I received an email from my friends in the local YWAM arts department. This evening was my last chance to see them before they left for Edinburgh, Scotland to perform at a large international arts festival. Shortly after arriving we all soon filled the bus that was going to take us out to the main YWAM base. Each Friday night is a fun night when all of the YWAM people gather together. This larger base was now pure mud after so much rain. Narrow pathways formed from loose bricks provided access between the buildings. The students of the last course were graduating tonight and they all threw their cardboard graduation caps made especially for this occasion into the air in a shout of triumph. Then my friends came out dressed up in festival style, displaying the amazing creations which they had worked so hard on over the last year for Scotland. It was a great night. After returning back on the bus to the Capital Federal base and spending the night there, I farewelled my friends and headed for the bus terminal. Ironically, I was now about to head south, away from Corrientes. Destination Mar del Plata The six hour journey left me with many questions. I was heading down there in search of a church, the Peniel church. While in Uruguay I had read about how the Argentine revival of 1942 had begun through Edward Miller and how this was the first church that he founded. Wanting to know more about the Argentine revival, I felt compelled to search out this church. My questions would not leave me however. This was the first time I had ever done anything like this and I was feeling very unsure of myself. What would happen when I got there? What would I say? What would happen? Would anything happen? What was I expecting? Why was I even going here? These and other questions rattled around in my head without answers. Finding The Church After settling into a local hotel, I enlisted the help of a local taxi to find the church. I gave him the directions I had and sat back in my seat, pondering what I would do once I actually arrived there. It was quite late on a Saturday night so nobody would be at the church. The best I was hoping for was to find a notice outside indicating the time for the Sunday service. When the taxi pulled up outside the church, a very unpretentious building, I was surprised to see the front door was open. On my approach, two women inside asked me who I was looking for. I really had no idea, but in my confusion of thoughts managed to stammer out that perhaps it was the pastor that I wanted to see. They simply told me to return tomorrow at 10.30am. With that I left. Fortunately my taxi was still there, so I climbed back in and went to the middle of town. This was a pedestrianised street that led directly onto the beach. I wandered up and down this street, from the beach to the plaza at the other end and back again, looking into the shops along the way. It was quite late when I finally returned to my hotel. Inside The Church At 10.30am I entered the mainly empty church. By 11am it was filled and the service had begun. The first thing I noticed about this place was how friendly the people were, and not in the plastic friendly way that I had experienced before. The woman I had seen last night greeted me and introduced me to Angel, an English speaking Argentine, shortly after I arrived. We talked for quite a while at first and then when the pastor of the church arrived, he introduced us and left. I chatted with the pastor for a while too, a kindly and open man who carried an obvious gentleness. The service was much longer than most churches, although the time passed by unnoticed. The pastor came over and prayed for me during the service, a prayer that spoke directly to me about many of my questions. It was a very interesting time, and I felt very comfortable during virtually everything that happened. Just as the service was ending, at around 3.00pm I heard that familiar voice once again. While I was thinking of simply getting out of the place, God told me that I should accept the invitation that I was about to receive. Expecting something to happen, I waited around the church for a while as different people came over to chat with me. Each one left without inviting me anywhere. Not even a hint of an invite. As the people in the building were thinning out I decided that there was no invitation and headed out the door. Just before I disappeared down the street, I saw Angel wander out the door in the opposite direction. I had not thanked him for all of his assistance during the service and the time that he had spent with me, so I quickly wandered over to give him my thanks. He turned around, and before I could say anything, told me he was actually looking for me to invite me over to his son's place for the afternoon. I was stunned for a moment, but naturally, I accepted. Family Birthdays It was a birthday party for his son, and there were many people from his family there. In a small house we all made a crowd, but a very happy one. Spirits were high as we celebrated this day and enjoyed the finger foods and fizzy drinks. I was accepted as part of the group by all who were present. My time at the party was spent chatting mostly with Angel and his eldest daughter. It had been a great afternoon with Angel's family, and I left that place knowing that I had made a good friend. When it was time to return home, I was given a ride by the birthday boy who kindly took me for a brief tour over the greater Mar del Plata area before dropping me back off in the city centre. It had been a great night. One Day Of Tourism The next day I checked out of my hotel, stored my pack, and wandered around the city. This was my day for tourism, but today I did not feel like tourism. Not really knowing what there was to see in this place, and feeling tired of taking photos, I simply meandered my way along the beaches and through the streets of the city taking few photos. The School My bus left at 11pm tonight and it was almost 7pm, while I was writing emails, that I remembered that I had also wanted to visit the school founded by Edward Miller. After calling Angel I soon had the approximate location of the school. The taxi dropped me off in the area but I could find nothing that resembled it. It was a dark, unlit road and two transvestites were waiting for customers along the side just near me. They kindly provided me with some vague directions toward the school. I had no invite nor advanced warning that I was coming, so instead I stood outside the building and phoned them, explaining why I was here. Before long two people came out to meet me and took me for a tour of the place. A training college for youth from 18 to 28 years of age who can elect to be there for one or two years, it teaches all of the aspects of who God is. Students come unsolicited from all over the world. There is no advertising nor information other than a basic website. This school started with humble beginnings, in the lounge room of Edward Miller's house. Every building and extension was paid for before it was started. Sometimes the story of how a certain building or part of it was paid for is genuinely amazing. Other times it was paid by the donations of generous people. After finishing my tour I thanked the people who showed me around and then proceeded to walk down the long unlit road. As I passed the same transvestites along the side of the road I stopped to thank them for their directions, chatting briefly with one of them about why I was here before I continued on my way. Return To Buenos Aires Back in the city, I retrieved my bag and boarded the next bus for Buenos Aires, arriving there at 5am. With little sleep on the bus journey and no time to relax in Buenos Aires, chocolate and coke was enlisted to provide me with the energy I needed to get through the day. There was now only two days before I left for Corrientes. One day was occupied with multiple long waits in the phone company until I finally ended up with a new telephone that would work in Corrientes. Unfortunately, I had little knowledge at the time that my existing phone would also work, leaving me with two functional phones. I really only needed one. Doh! That evening I stopped in for dinner with one of my friends. Needing money to pay for the dinner, I stopped at the bank and inserted my credit card. That was the last I saw of it. The automatic bank just gobbled it up. My last day was filled with seeing people and a couple of last minute things such as retrieving my gobbled up credit card. By the time I reached the bus terminal, I had only five minutes left to purchase my ticket and board the bus. It was enough. Buenos Aires, my new home, was about to be left behind me. I was on my way to Corrientes.