Six hours of American football in South America.
The locals didn't know what to think. They stood on the bridge (a crosswalk for the 8 lanes of Pan American highway traffic underneath) gazing down at us.
"Futbol* Americano" they call it. One Saturday a year, the sophomore class hosts a day of fun. A day for North Americans and Canadians to pretend they are "home". Complete with imported soda pop, and a sloppy Joe for lunch, you almost think you're in your old hometown.
Before the first ball was snapped, the event's coordinator asked us to join him in a prayer. For clear skies we gave thanks, then begged for safety for the players. Previous years had been plagued with injuries, concussions, broken bones, stitches. This year the Lord gave us a perfect day, with no serious injuries and no lightning storms!!
The teams were made up of quite a variety. One was mostly north American college/post college kids down here for a year of mission work. One team was composed of our kids' teachers, many of them reliving high school days of throwing the pigskin, but also some teachers who have lived in South America all their lives, either as MK's or nationals.
The student team our oldest was on had a junior from Asia who saw a football for the first time at practice the day before!!
It is known as the "Turkey Bowl". Our family goes to watch every year - a little taste of "Home" for Ralph and me.
*futbol means "soccer" in Spanish
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