On a Missionary Journey: Pack mules, chickens and ice cream

To do on a Saturday in Cusco:
1) Buy things for ice cream sundaes for the party for the youth retreat we promised to help out with
2) Buy plants for our garden and sad little greenhouse (that's a project for the next few weeks)
3) Buy chickens
4) Make it to the youth retreat in time for the party
So we decided to go to Tupac Amaru, where they sell plants, furniture and any other number of things. Conveniently, right beside Tupac Amaru are several grocery stores where we could get just about anything we'd need for ice cream sundaes. So, under a hot, bright sun, we went to Tupac Amaru. We quickly found the plants we wanted - onions, oregano, cilantro, lettuce and rosemary. Carrie wanted to look for a chest since she doesn't have a whole lot of storage space in her room. She ended up finding one she loved. However, we still had to go to the grocery store, so we decided to carry the chest between two of us and leave one of us behind with it outside the grocery store while the other two went shopping. So Shannon got to sit on the chest while Carrie and I found things for ice cream sundaes. We ended up having to go to several stores and found almost everything. By this time, the chest was getting heavy and we were feeling like pack mules and getting ready for lunch, so we got a taxi home.
While at home, we decided to crush nuts and cookies and get everything ready for the ice cream sundaes before we left to go get chickens. One of the other missionaries had told us of the best place to buy ice cream in bulk (like for 80 people), so we called and found out that they would not be open till 4. The plan was to get the chickens, bring them home, then go get ice cream and leave from there for the retreat.
Things, however, rarely go as planned. The sun was still bright and shiny when we left home, but clouds were looming on the horizon. We had to make one stop to get chocolate syrup for the sundaes. By the time we got to our next bus stop, raindrops were starting to splatter down on the sidewalk. By the time we got off the bus, raindrops were really starting to fall. Huddled under a one-person umbrella, we stood in one place, contemplating the street in front of us, trying to figure out where exactly the little market was where we were supposed to buy our chickens. Finally, we just decided to walk and see where we ended up. Right as it started POURING rain, we stumbled upon the market. Now, I must explain that three gringas (white people) are not that big a deal in Cusco, but three somewhat wet gringas huddled under an umbrella jubilantly exclaiming "Aqui esta!! (here it is!)" as they rush into a poultry and guinea pig market in Cusco in a rainstorm are much more interesting! :) Especially since, as we walked under one of the tarps, it decided to unload its cargo of rainwater on Shannon's head. Now really wet, Shannon abandoned the umbrella. Now that we had made it to our destination, we decided to find what we had come for. The weather, however, had other ideas. All around the perimeter of the market, where there was some sort of roofing, people huddled with their chickens, ducks, turkeys and guinea pigs, trying to keep some semblance of dryness. Within about 2 minutes, the general consensus seemed to be that staying dry and selling animals was a lost cause while the rainstorm continued, so everyone found as much roof as he could and tried to cover up his animals. Since Shannon was wet, she decided to help the woman in the middle of the market put her tarp tents back up when they fell over and then throw her chickens in a plastic crate so they could be put under a drier roof. Carrie and I, meanwhile, huddled under a roof with what eventually became 4 other people as the storm dragged on and it began to hail. We stayed there, getting wetter, muddier, and colder, for about half an hour until the storm began to subside and the sounds that were heard, instead of the crash of raindrops, became more the murmur of human voices and the annoyed squawks of wet and uncomfortable fowl.
At this point, we decided it was sufficiently done raining to buy chickens. So we bought 8 3-week-old chickens, which we carried in a box. Next stop was to buy chicken feed, which went into our backpacks. By this time, it was about half an hour from the time the ice cream factory was supposed to be opening back up, so we decided to just take the chickens with us and head there. After getting some vague directions from the guy at the feed mill, who seemed to be quite amused by the sight of three wet gringas carrying a box of 8 chickens and enjoying petting his cat, we caught the bus we needed and headed out to buy 25 liters of ice cream. Unfortunately, we missed our stop, so we again became pack mules as we trudged back along muddy sidewalks, carrying the chickens and feed, and eventually found the ice cream place. By this time, it was 4:00 and we were supposed to be at the retreat in an hour. So we stood outside the factory waiting for the door to magically open and someone to invite us in to buy our ice cream. This, however, proved to be nothing but a lovely fantasy. 15 minutes passed by as we stood there wondering just when the door was going to open. I finally decided to try knocking to see if I could get any response. Lo and behold, a peephole in the door was opened and the man on the other side told me that this was the incorrect place, that yes, there was service from 4-6, but in another place that was, in his words, lejos (far).
By this time, we wanted nothing more than to get the ice cream, go home to change, and go to the retreat. So we hailed a taxi and went back to the grocery store we were at in the morning to buy the ice cream for a few more soles than we had originally thought it would be.
After getting home, changing, and introducing the chickens to their new home, finally we were able to leave for the retreat. When we arrived, later than we had originally thought, we found that things were, as is typical of events here, running late. So we sat and listened to two of the youth speak. That time was such a blessing to many people, including us. After the two teachings and the ministry time that followed, all the youth were barred from the room and the preparations for the party were begun. Chairs were moved to make room for dancing and funky lights were set up around the room. Supper was a quick meal of soup and tea, then it was back to helping to set up for the party, which started soon after.
The moment it was revealed that we were having a party, the dance floor was open and Shamara grabbed me by the hand, urging me "Bailemos! (Let's dance)." Somehow, she was willing to teach my stubbornly wooden feet how to move to the rhythm and do something that at least approximated what she was doing. I'm not really the most comfortable when I'm dancing, but when I was able to get past the fact that the pastor was there and the feeling that I can't dance and that I should be serving ice cream (even though all the youth were far too interested in dancing to want ice cream until later) and everyone was there and could see me, it was fun! :) Both the ice cream and the party were a big hit and we ended up being there till about 11:30, when the pastor and his wife and another guy decided to head back home to get some sleep. Of course, no sane person drives any kind of public transportation in Papancay where the retreat was at 11:30 at night, so we decided to hoof it in the dark, walking along a dirt road by the light of a keychain flashlight, carrying what was left of our ice cream toppings and things in bags. (It really wasn't bad; it sounds worse than it was.) Half an hour later, we arrived in San Jeronimo again, where Pastor Ruben hailed us a taxi and we were finally able to go home, leave everything where it was, and fall into bed exhausted.
God loves to send us adventures, I am convinced. They teach us to trust Him and go along for