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adventures when living in a sketchy building

Warning: grandma (and all other Jewish mothers), please be forwarned that this post is very honest about my life and you may or may not want to read it.

So as I have mentioned before, I live in a building that is generally occupied by prostitutes. Most of the apartments are used as places of "business" for my neighbors. This means that certain awkward situations arise at times. Like when a guy goes through the building knocking on random doors waiting for one to open with a girl ready to go. When these guys knock on my door, usually they knock once, realize I'm not a prostitute and then move on. But last week, this guy kept knocking at my door. Don't worry, I don't EVER open my door for a stranger, but this one took a firm declaration to LEAVE MY DOOR! And he did. Now, usually my awkward moments are more like riding in the tiny elevator that only fits 3 people, with a neighbor and her client. Awkward, but okay. But this morning my building sank to a new all low. The elevator wasn't working so I took the stairs. On my way down the stairs I passed by a, what? what's that? oh yeah, it's a used condom. Yep. Goodness gracious. All new low, even for my building. But you know what, I wouldn't trade it for anything. This honestly is kinda a dream come true. Not the condom part, but the getting to do ministry in the middle of the broken and downtrodden. (And grandma, to make you feel better, at least I'm not trying to minister to the prostitutes in southeast asia! It's MUCH safer for me to be here in Chile.)

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