Huckleberry City

This weekend I am in El Calafate, a city named after the wild Huckleberry plant that fills these hills.  Unfortunately this plant is full of thorns that make picking the berries practically impossible.  Back in the nineties Frances and I parked our mobile home beside the old church building, while I designed and drew up plans for the much needed larger building (shown here).  We got the foundation and supporting columns up and then a wonderful team from Portland Christian Center, pastored then by Bill Wilson (my home church when I was little child) came and built the church in 9 days!

However, I had failed to take something into consideration when I made the original design.  The snow that accumulates on the roof over the entrance would slide right down in front of the main door and block the entrance.  So now after years of shoveling snow, the men of the church are building a nicely designed cover over the entrance.  Pastor Tony Villegas (left) stands with a newly converted brother who joyfully told me he was delivered from addiction to alcohol.  We refer to the building as a "church", but the real "Church" is represented by this happy brother with his dog by his side.  For he has now become a "temple" of the Holy Spirit!  Halleluyah!  (See 1 Cor. 6:19) 

The sanctuary was recently painted inside and out.  Check out that chartreuse color on the front of the church building. (above)  

This tourist city is full of bright happy colors.  Here are some businesses just around the corner from my hotel.   

I happened into some Sunday morning's Bible classes and got all excited when I saw all these kids.  So, you guessed it.  I ran to my hotel, a couple of blocks from the church and brought Felipe and Perfume. 

Our main Sunday service was greatly blessed by God.    Without doubt God is using this pastor, with his wife and family to make a difference in this city!  

El Calafate city is a great tourist center for one main reason. One of Argentina's most awesome glaciers is only an hour's drive away.  And you can walk quite close to it.  Not too close, though, for they claim that over 30 people have been killed by flying ice.  

This wall of ice is over 200 feet high and is in constant action as it slowly advances down the mountain.  Every ten minutes or less huge pieces of ice fall crashing into the lake.  Smaller pieces, maybe only five feet in diameter, sound like rifles firing when they hit the water.  The sound is accented by the wall of ice behind it.  

Larger pieces, some as tall as a ten story building, crash like thunder into the depths causing huge waves and then come back rolling over on the surface to show their deep blue ice compressed by hundreds of tons and untold years of pressure.  I stood there today and like the other tourists could hardly make myself leave... as we all were anticipating the next huge explosion. 

As I was leaving I offered to take a picture of a couple with an Argentine flag.  Then they offered to take my picture with their flag, too.  If you click on the picture and enlarge it, you can make out the tiny figures of tourist down below where I was taking pictures moments before.  People of all ages were hiking the many walkways... many with their sweethearts.  I had taken Frances there several times, but I missed holding her soft, warm hand today as I hiked for an hour or more.  

Ralph