Month: June 2008

This morning I met with Sarah and YouthWorld at 10:00. We just wanted to go over some things before we met with Dana and Bryan at 12:00. I don’t think either of us truly expected to use the entire time, but when Brad walked into Christy’s office where we were meeting at 11:30 to get us to take two bags of bagels off his hands, we realized how much we’d actually been over.

In fact, between responsibilities, personalities, food/orientation/translation/funding details, love languages, meeting times during the week, accountability and prayers, we covered just about everything that the Maestros wanted to go over with us anyway. Best pareja ever.

Bryan called us as we were preparing to head out of YouthWorld and asked us to get lunch. Poor Maestros didn’t have a break between five pareja meetings to have lunch, so we brought them food. McDonald’s, no less. It’s not that we don’t want to eat cultural food on our days off, I think it’s just the sensation that we think we are spoiling ourselves for one meal. Reading the nutrition facts at the Plaza de las Americas McDonald’s made us realize it’s more like we’re giving ourselves cancer. Oh well, everything does.

So the first hitch of the morning had already been discussed at this point. I’ll just go ahead and throw it in here. It was that one of our team members could not find his passport. We were told originally they were just coming without him, which worried us in our morning meeting when we realized he is the only “real” adult male on the team, which would leave the guys entirely in my hands. Which wouldn’t be very different from out team last year, except that I at least knew Coleman and Bradham. Eventually we found out that he is coming, he’s just flying to Chicago first to get a new passport and will be a day late.

Second hitch of the morning, as we got to Dana’s. We knocked on the door, and tried to open it. Good thing it was locked, because when a voice on the other side answered, it was not Dana. It was not even her roommate Ashley. We were on the wrong floor. Can you imagine if we’d just been able to walk in? Crisis averted, we went up another floor.

Dana and Bryan were glad to see us, and Cameron, Angela and Matt were jealous of the food. We plopped ourselves on the couches and began our meeting. They discovered really fast that we had been very productive this morning, and a lot of what we talked about answered their prepared questions for us and even might have given them some ideas for suggestions for other teams (our planned meetings at the beginning and end of each day and how we are going to be a constant check system for the other). Not that we are by any means perfect. And Dana and Bryan still managed to both affirm and challenge us in our relationship with each other and with our team and with them and in everything we do this summer. It was just really great, and I feel like all four of us came away from it with something despite the point of it being prep for Sarah and me.

We went over the Team Schedule and had made several changes and additions to it by the time Sarah’s phone rang. It was Hannah with bad news. The group missed their connecting flight in Miami and can’t get in until tomorrow. The good news is that we found out before we went grocery shopping, which both gave us more time and made a couple of major changes to our budget. And Sarah now gets to spend some time with her mom as she returns from the States tonight (as a U.S. citizen). But that’s about as optimistic as I can be about it at this point.

And if I thought my schedule was marked through and changed at 1:30 this afternoon, you should see it now. All our orientations have been pushed back 12 hours or more and totally rearranged in time and in location. We have to do YW Orientation with Brad tomorrow as well as our Hostal and Ecuador Orientations, totally cutting out Old Quito. Our Basillica tour only gets to take place because we’ll be waiting an extra five hours before leaving for Tena on Satuday for the passportless team member to arrive at the airport. We’ll be running right from that to Partnership Orientation with Dana at YW before lunch at Fruiteria or Pinchos (depending, much like the rest of our schedule, entirely on time).

I’ll be very glad to get on the bus and chill for five hours on the way to Tena. I honestly think it will be the first opportunity we have to really get to know our team members on an individual basis.

We spent two hours rewriting our schedule, making phone calls to the Hostal, to Dario, to Juan Carlos, and finally doing our grocery list. That grocery list is a lot of math, and one of the things that I really backed off simply because Sarah has a very good grasp (having done this before) of what we need as opposed to what we need on paper. Snack foods, fruit, and even sack lunches I could handle, but I now understand why all the interns hate figuring out breakfast. Christ Episcopal, I want you to really appreciate your bagels, toast and drinkable yogurt when you open your refrigerator June 22. It’s a lot more complicated than it seems when its sitting in Hostel Bosque so pretty.

I finally headed out at about 3:45 and was very proud of myself finding my way from Dana’s (where I had never been before) back home (where I’ve only walked once before). I’ve known all the street names in the neighborhood and around this part of North Quito for a while now, but I’m finally figuring out which house or office or restaurant is on each one and which ones run into each other. Landmarks like the park or the Mobil building or the Gus restaurant help out, but I can actually understand non-girly directions now (in that “take the cross street to Grade C.” makes as much sense to me as “head downhill from the glass building”).

Teddy, Nicole, and Matt were here when I arrived, and most of the girls stopped by either with or to see their pareja over the course of the afternoon. Everyone but us and Jerry/Nicea went shopping today after their meeting with the Maestros and will also be picking up their teams at the airport tonight all at the same time. I’m actually glad that at least there will not be four buses at the airport when we get our team. The ones who are going tonight will have lots of fun figuring out who is getting on which bus as they all look the same. Bryan and Dana will be there to translate for the drivers for the parejas who lack a translator, but I still just can’t see that going smoothly.

I got to call my mom, my brother, Albemarle Music, and Barbara today. It was a series of really good conversations, and I realized how much hearing myself say some of my thoughts about the jungle and this upcoming week out loud can be a profound experience for me. I can tell already, just by the way I’m actively analyzing everything that’s going on and giving straight answers to tough questions (that people who have never been part of Missions don’t necessarily intend to be tough questions), that I’m learning and growing and being stretched just by experiencing this culture and God and the huge responsibility (mentally, emotionally and spiritually) of hosting teams.

Right now I’m really praying that I can focus on people this week and not just events. I’m counting on Sarah to check me and I won’t be surprised at all to find myself really worrying about our packed schedule and running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to get 19 people from one orientation or activity to the next. I also need to remember that I am a host and that Amy is the team leader. It’s our responsibility to get them oriented to their surroundings and to give them the information and the questions and the pushes they need to be comfortable (and yet out of their comfort zones) in Ecuador and in ministry. But we can’t pull anyone’s walls down, and it is Amy’s responsibility to be their leadership, to make decisions about her people, and to go home and oversee the fruit that will come from this experience, to make it true form of growth for the team and the people they serve and come in contact with here and when they go forward home so that this is not just a mission trip (that is a four-letter word for missionaries. It’s almost as bad as vacation).

I’m excited to be working with Sarah, especially after having talked with her about the ways we’ll be checking each other throughout this team and after Dana and Bryan pointing out ways that we compliment each other and designating some specific areas in which to be active about it. I’m excited about getting to know my team, seeing where each of them are in their journey, what has brought them here, and what they will do both on the team and with what they take with them. I can’t wait to see Shandia, to have dinner with Fabian when we’re back from the jungle, to be leading debriefs and worship and to grow from every single person and experience this week.

Today was supposed to be our day off. And it was. I went to bed at 11:00 last night and woke up this morning feeling really refreshed. I heard some movement outside and figured it was 9 or 10 and everyone was up having breakfast. Turned out it was just the dogs and I was the first one awake. And it was 6:57. Apparently 8 hours is a lot of sleep to me right now.

I did get a lot of work done this morning, though. I read and wrote some e-mails and got a lot of my jungle notes turned into the blog entires below. That’s really helpful because I’m using my blog as a journal of sorts for myself, and much of an internal processor as I am, typing something out and forcing myself into processing it externally can be really helpful to organize my thoughts.

Everyone pretty much hung around today, as our only obligation was to be at Chet and Katie’s at 5:00 for dinner. Lane had coffee with Sarah and Teddy had lunch with Adam and Sara, but otherwise all of us were home all day. We watched Semi-Pro downstairs and hung out, and I had some good conversations throughout the day with each of the guys as they came and went from the breakfast table, where I’ve been doing all my writing. I’ve spent a lot of time in front of this screen today, and yet I feel like I’ve been very productive and surprisingly social even within the house despite that.

We didn’t even leave for lunch (other than Teddy) since there was (emphasis on was) a lot of leftover Papa John’s pizza from last night when all the girls were over. (Ecuadorian Papa John’s isn’t the same, but it was still a fantastic treat after 8 days of Yuca).

The plan was that we would all go up to the park and play basketball at 3:30 before we had to come back and change for dinner/final jungle debrief. At about 3:29 it started hailing. HAILING. I got the honor of running outside and letting the dogs back in through the gate and into the house and we just stood and watched it for a while. Nobody said anything, but it was just incredible to watch and listen to hail of all things pour down on us on a mountain on the equator after over a week in the “middle of the stinking jungle.” What a wacky series of days.

Bryan came home after all his meetings with Dana and Cameron for just long enough to pack up what we needed to take back to Chet, and then it was time to go pick up the girls. I’m not sure exactly how international driving and insurance work, but I know that for some strange reason we have today and seven more days that we can drive the Malloys’ truck. It is a beast. Bryan had a lot of trouble getting it out of the driveway and it shut off on him twice, despite being an automatic. By the time we made it to Christy’s to pick up Necia he’d figured out how to gun it and keep it going, but I was really thankful when we made it to the Williams and parked.

Cameron came over (and eventually so did Marlo and Mikala) for Final Debrief and basically ran that (I guess because Dana and Bryan and Chet were actually there and got to debrief the experience themselves). We talked about the sounds (BUENOS DIAS, SENOR JESUS!), the smells (armpit pants), the feels (sloshing through mud) and feelings (having the Ecuadorians do the “rain” for us) and what we want to take away. There was laughter, there were tears, there were profound statements and fond memories. There was faith and trust and openness and Katie remarked as an outside observer how different a group we were from when we left. More comfortable in our own skins, more confident and more willing to go where we are sent, and having truly become a unified group, all friends and all partners.

We could have gone on all night telling stories and life lessons, and I could do the same right here, but I’ll leave some things to actually tell everyone when I am once again in America de Norte.

After that was dinner and another sort of debrief exercise. We were supposed to (and eventually did) spend two minutes talking about our experience in the jungle and tell it to the person next to us, then listen to their story. I sat at the kitchen table with Danielle, Jerry, Angela, Lane, and Nicole and we first discussed how ridiculous an assignment we thought it was because most people will not listen to you for a full two minutes. I’m happy when someone listens to thirty seconds (PS- When I get home, do not ask me how my vacation was) and at least seems like they get it. Especially for us, having been on such an incredible roller coaster of experiences and emotions over the last 8 days it was hard to get that across sitting around a table with people who were right there with us. But eventually Nicole just busted out and did her spiel and before you knew it all of us had, and it turned into a full discussion by the end. I know what single experience I will use if someone asks me about my time with the Huaorani, but I doubt I’ll ever be able to get across anything close to the feelings and emotions and experiences to anyone who was not there.

About the time we finished up, Chet came and asked if we wanted to see pictures. Everyone was upstairs in front of the computer before you could say “Surfin’ U.S.A.” It was hilarious to see ourselves over the course of the time in Toñamparé, from doing the “rain” to singing and doing our skit to the mud fight to the obstacle course. We even got to see a couple videos of the banana hunt and one of the gringo guys vs. the Ecuadorian counselors in tug-of-war (we got owned- pwn3d, even- twice in a row). Chet had put it together in a fantastic slideshow presentation complete with a soundtrack of “Jungle Boogie” by Kool & the Gang.

And finally it was time to get our team packets. Sarah totally called ours days ago, during our first debrief in Toñamparé I think. The two of us will be hosting Woodbury United Methodist Church, a team of 19. They’re from Sarah’s hometown, so she speaks their language, and they’re Methodist, so I speak their language. Perfect. And we’re going to Tena/Shandia for two full days and two travel days. And for those who don’t know what that means… back to the JUNGLE! Shandia is actually a lot like Shell, so there will be electricity and water and restaurants, but still.

I’ve pretty much entirely gotten over my nervousness at the responsibility of hosting teams, but it was still just a bit unnerving to have Sarah pull $800 out of our packet and set it in my lap. I’m fine handling money, in fact I’m good at it (when I’m the only one in the drawer all day at work, it’s basically always right) but anyone who knows anything about me knows that I hate cash. But oh well, this whole culture uses nothing but cash, so I’ll get over it.

When we left Chet and Katie’s Cameron took the guys and Angela and Danielle home. She asked how computer savvy I was and I guess I answered pretty confidently, because she asked if I’d check out her modem. During that hail storm this afternoon there was a lot of lightning and Cameron’s neighbor’s chimney¹ ended up on her porch. Turns out her modem got power surged and fried as well. I determined that pretty quickly and got to talk to Cam for a bit about lessons from the jungle and about Roberto (who is currently in Florida) and at 8:43 I headed out to walk back home.

I had a feeling Cameron would forget to buzz me out, so I have no idea why I closed and locked the upstairs gate behind me. I got downstairs, and yep. I called it. The door was locked. So I picked up my phone to call Cameron. Her number wasn’t in my phone. I called Jerry and he texted me her number from the QQ Training Manual. Wrong number (I think it was Roberto’s brother that I got, but I’m not sure). Called Jerry back to see if Matt had her number. No luck. Dana and Bryan didn’t answer, but I finally got ahold of Christy, who called Cameron. By this time it was 8:53 so I think Cameron felt really bad when she stuck her head out the window above and called down “Is it open?” I thought she said “Do you need it open?” and I of course answered “yes.” Cameron said sorry and went back inside. Then I realized that the door was still not open. Thank God that the guy on the second floor was coming down, because he let me up through the upstairs gate. I knocked on the door, Cameron answered, and was very surprised to see me. She buzzed again, but grabbed the keys and came down with me. Door was still locked. Then we realized, it got fried in the storm too. I got Cameron’s real phone number and walked back home (this is the first time I’ve gone anywhere in Quito totally by myself and I honestly was only about 50% sure of where I was headed, but I made it back (down the hill, left after the park, first right, down and around two blocks, house on the corner) and got Jerry to let me in. I’m actually really proud of myself and feel a lot more confident about making it to the office at 10am to meet with Sarah before our meeting with Dana and Bryan at 12 (and hoping that Sarah knows how to get to Dana’s because I haven’t a clue).

I thought my eventful day would be over at that point. But as I sat typing this, Jerry hollered from outside “Dan! Guard the gate!” Bryan had come back from Dana’s in the truck and swung the garage gate inward instead of outward. That meant that he had to pull back out and swing the gate the other way because it will not close once the truck is parked in the way, cutting off the path through which it swings. In the process of trying to fix this problem with the gate wide open, both the dogs took off down the street and Jerry and Bryan took off after them.

When everything finally chilled out here, Bryan talked to me about the team Sarah and I are hosting. I’m really excited for them, and really glad he filled me in on some history, but overall even more confident about it because we were placed with this team for a very specific reason, not just because we get to go to Shandia or that Sarah sort of knows them.

Please just pray for us as we prepare tomorrow, meeting with the Maestros and going over in-depth schedules and shopping and finally picking up our team. Also pray for our team as they travel and the team leader and for their time in Ecuador, that it be fruitful for all involved: hosts, leaders, team, people served and touched.

¹You can tell how used to Spanish I’m getting. I seriously typed and then deleted “the chimney of the neighbors of Cameron” En Español it actually would have been “la chimenea del vecinos de Cameron,” which is literally what I typed en Inglés.

Travel Day: 9
On Ground Day: 6
Extra Day: 1

I originally named this post “stuck” in the jungle, which is how I initially felt. You’ll see the progress of thoughts and emotions as you read.

Last night five of us were left behind in Toñamparé. Details will be posted eventually. But just so you have a setting.

We woke up this morning early. Dana came over to the church and asked if we were awake and what time it was from outside. Amazingly, all three guys were awake and it was 6:15. She went back to bed and so did we, and I did a little devo time there in “bed” on the floor under my mosquito net. I prayed about a lot of things, but in particular that we and Reynaldo’s crew would be able to get out, that the fog would lift, and the runway would dry out.

Ten minutes later it started raining again.

Fortunately it only lasted for about twenty minutes. Around 7:15 we actually got up and took down nets and packed up belongings again. Dayuma greeted me as I went outside. In English, no less. I still marvel at this woman who can speak to me in three languages.

We went ahead and took all out stuff, not out of hope of flying anytime soon, but more to save us a trip just in case. It wasn’t so much foggy as just really cloudy really low. And that’s exactly the problem. The 5-passenger planes that transport people to and from Toñamparé fly by sight most of the time. Therefore, the clouds have to be at least above the tree line. The runway was also wet. Not as wet as yesterday, but we were sure we’d be bailing it out like Rey’s crew had done yesterday afternoon.

From there it was a waiting game. The five of us hung out on the porch of the building where the girls were originally sleeping, between the runway and the Bodega. We didn’t talk very much, mostly because nobody wanted to say that we knew we’d be there another day.

The biggest chunk of the town is on a “street” of slightly harder slightly drier ground in a squarish “U” shape, with the opening of the “U” facing the runway and a very large covered area in the middle. The kitchen and some of the classrooms were on the opposite side of the “U” from us (semi-accurate diagram here) and some of the kids or teachers or someone was dragging a large object over there. It’s probably about 50 yards from one porch to another, and the sound was very similar to an engine at that distance. Lane said “Is that the plane?” Teddy and I rebuked him instantly (probably both because we had already heard it and made the same assumption for a split second, and because we’d rather be realistic than overly optimistic and then disappointed). Angel and another of Rey’s group were about halfway in between in the middle of the field and started joking about the same time, yelling back to us “it’s the plane” and trying to fool us. We all laughed half-heartedly and then the noise stopped.

Then Lane said “That is the plane.” And so it was. 8:00 am, clouds just above the trees, and here came a pilot doing a fly-over. Five minutes later he was on the ground and another was circling, and was down before we knew it. Then it was back to waiting.

As it turned out, out of the four planes that were stuck in Atahuno last night, these two were going to another Huaorani village and taking Rey and part of his crew with them. We’d have to wait for them to be off the ground before the other planes could even take off from Atahuno because of landing space. And Rey had to redistribute all his weight. People, luggage, supplies. The planes were not able to carry as much as we’d hoped, and part of his ministry group was going back to Shell while even more were headed all the way back to Quito.

Cecelia made breakfast and if we’d known we’d be hanging around until 10:00, I’m sure we would have eaten. But we had no idea what the plan was going to be, and if we’d even get another plane on the ground, much less back in the air and on the way to Shell. I think it was all Dana could do to keep everyone’s heads from exploding as we sat and watched nothing happen. No people got in. No equipment got loaded. Nothing.

I managed not to be vocal about it and stay out of the argument over whether it was more or less conscientious to spend times making all these plans for people rather than getting a plane in the air. I am really glad that Rey was so focused on getting us on the first plane to Shell. But much as I would like to, I can’t honestly say it wasn’t stressful sitting there with nothing to do, watching two vehicles designed to fly just sit on the muddy ground, hoping against hope that the weather would hold out.

Finally, after over an hour of waiting, everything and everyone who needed to miraculously made it into two planes and they were taking off. Before the second one had made its full 270° turn in the air, the third plane was coming in. Coming in HOT. Teddy and I were both sure he’d have to pull up and try again. I’ve watched a lot of planes come and go over the last eight days, and this one was just unbelievable in control and in speed, and then finally in grace hitting the ground. Some of the ones that landed on dry, sunny days didn’t come in that well.

Turns out it was the pilot who had (so we feel, though this may not be true) screwed up the whole schedule yesterday and potentially helped cause us to be there another day. Not great management skills, but I am extremely impressed at him as a pilot, which today was the important thing, and both redeemed him a lot in our eyes and made us reevaluate our emotions from the last 24 hours or so.

It took us about 45 seconds to load, which isn’t that impressive considering all our luggage (except my guitar) stayed behind to come on one of Rey’s flights later. Even with extreme seatbelt trouble on my part (I really don’t understand what a seatbelt does for 98% of an airplane ride) we were taking off in no time and flying back over Toñamparé and the jungle.

I marvelled at the vastness of the jungle on the way in. I did the same thing on the way out. We can say that we’re just tiny specks on this huge celestial ball all we want, but the human mind just simply cannot comprehend the vastness of God’s Creation. Even with cell phones and internet and airplanes making the world smaller from a relational point of view, looking out at trees upon trees upon mountains of trees is just a mind-boggling experience no matter how many times you do it.

The whole time we had visibility in the plane and I could stare at what God had put in front of me I just thought “how dare I?” How dare I be so selfish as to be impatient to leave when I have nothing to do on my day off? How dare I be so focused on my little world that I can’t think about all of Reynaldo’s crew still back in Toñamparé at that point. How dare I be so anxious to get back to showers and iPods and pizzas when the Huaorani have none of that?

I was in a much better mood after ten minutes or so of silent contemplation and prayer. So much so that I just laughed when the pilot turned to Lane (riding shotgun) and asked “Where are you going?” And I’m so not joking. Teddy smiled a little bit like “Is he serious?” I thought Dana was going to crap a brick. The pilot made Lane put on the headphones and said “Aren’t you going to Atahuno?” “Shell. We’re going to Shell. Now.”

A frantic radio conversation ensued, but suddenly we were over Shell. I didn’t even recognize it at first. I was still pretty incredulous as we began our decent until our loop faced us back toward the familiar MAF airfield. I didn’t realize how BIG the city is. We spent a lot of time on the outskirts of it last year and I did not realize how far away from the central city Casa de Fe actually is. (Bad sentence, I know, get over it). Nothing is like seeing Quito from the air, or even from a mountain, but no wonder half the population of Ecuador lives outside Gauaquil, Quito and Cuenca when Shell is this spread out and barely makes it on a map.

Being greeted at MAF by Chet was sort of like being greeted by your dad: a comforting, familiar face that you knew would be able to fix everything. I’m sure that Dana really felt like that, having been the lone Spanish-speaking gringo in what Teddy dubbed the “Nosedive Five,” and having been the sole leader of the group for a very stressful day. And to think it was only 10:30 in the morning.

I was sure Chet would have something funny to say just because he’s like that. Instead, he was nothing but apologetic. None of us felt he had anything to be sorry about, and we were all 100% sure that he would have sent the group to Quito and stayed behind, and he did. Totally faithful to us and totally a voice of decisiveness and control that was a breath of fresh air after having all our plans torn out from under us constantly since yesterday afternoon, and then only when there was a hint of a plan.

The decision was that we’d wait for the 3:00 bus to Quito since there was no way we could catch the 11:15 bus and our stuff wasn’t there. Dana begged a little bit. We decided to make the impossibly near 11:15 bus. By Grace and Grace alone, we managed in 15 minutes to clean two sets of boots, have three people change and pick up a duffle bag at the HCJB Guesthouse, pick up food, walk down the block to the bathroom and back, get bus tickets (including an extra one for the guitar- no joke) and board the bus.

The bus ride is a blur, mostly because we could just shut down, finally. We pulled into Quito, hopped into two outrageously overpriced taxis and made a brief stop at YouthWorld before Katie took us back to the guys’ new home at the Malloy residence. Or, colloquially, the Frat House. The six of us are here for the duration of our stay in Quito while the Malloys are on furlough Stateside. Bryan, Lane, and Teddy have their own rooms, Jerry and I are in the girls’ bunkbeds, and Matt is downstairs in what is now the “man room” with one of the computers and the TV and sound system. What a way to come home after 8 days in the middle of the jungle.

We got showers, got to use the Vonage phone to call home, got to hang out with the guys who’d been here all day. I’m extremely thankful for my time with the Hauorani, and for the time getting to know the other Interns as a team and as my friends. And although I’m a little disdainful of my attachment to showers, pizzas and iPods, I will at least appreciate them. But not near as much as clean socks.

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Things I’ve learned:
The value of running/clean/hot water, meat, bread, beds, shampoo.
That a little enthusiasm can go a long way.
How to find, chop, pull, clean and cook Yucca.
That Yucca is good, and well worth the work, but really boring after 24 meals straight.
You don’t need to look good, smell good or have clean clothes to have a good time.
You can experience the love of God in any language, culture or place.
Plans
Being the President doesn’t disqualify you from climbing a tree to get grapefruit for Gringos.
Gringos may not be able to work like Hauorani, but they can at least impress an kitchenfull of Ecuadorians.
Kitchenfull is a totally good measurement.
Peace.

Just wanted to let everyone know we’re alive. Five of us (Dana, Danielle, Lane, Teddy and I) got stuck in the jungle and spent an extra night because the planes couldn’t fly through the weather, but we’re alive and not much worse for wear. It’s been an amazing experience and I’m very thankful for all the prayers. I’ll update the blog later with today’s experience and start posting my jungle writings (so be ready to look down the page, they’ll be pre-dated), but for now I want a shower and a nap and a pizza.

Travel Day: 7
On Ground Day: 5
Father’s Day 2008

I’ll just skip right over breakfast and lunch. The highlight today was the sports.

Normally the kids go play basketball and soccer after the afternoon program until dinner. Today it rained. And I mean it RAINED. The town was soaked and the mud that we’ve become so accustomed to walking through (and having all over us) was amplified by an immeasurable magnitude. While we were cleaning up lunch, Gustavo and Carlos (two of the younger guys on Rey’s crew, both about 18) asked Bryan if four of us gringo guys would play soccer with them in the mud. This was eventually extended to all of us, as many as wanted and girls included as well. I wasn’t keen on the idea, because I like to be dry. And clean. And dry. And not uselessly exhausted by dinner. And dry.

Knowing there was no way I was going to remain dry if anyone was playing anything in the mud, I went back to the church and changed into my swimsuit. Good thing. We got owned in gringo vs. Ecuadorian tug-of-war (twice, no less) and then th kids did all of the games from the other night… just in the mud. It started raining even harder for a while there and mud was everywhere. By the time it stopped, the games had dissolved into a giant mud fight with everyone involved. Not wearing a shirt, I looked clean even when I was covered in mud, and I got taken down about six times. Jonathan and a couple of the guys even carried me to a huge puddle and just dropped me in.

We took down Chet, and even Reynaldo and by the end, whether you were gringito, Ecuadorian national, or Huaorani, everyone looked the same: COVERED in mud. We looked around at the end and realized Fabian was nowhere to be found. I think he heard the first hint of mud and vanished back to the church to sleep or play with the parrot. Pastors!

We decided the best way to get clean would be to trek back to the Curaray River and Palm Beach (though the beach itself was actually fully underwater at that point). A long and muddy hike later we were back at the river, and all able to just jump in (nobody brought boots or other “stuff,” thank God). The current is intense, and I now understand why Ed McCully’s body was never recovered. Even swimming against the current, which doesn’t look like much from shore, it was very hard to even stay in the same place.

We got all the mud off, but entirely missed the “shore” downstream where we needed to get out. It was really stressful there for a minute, especially trying to make sure the girls (who could not touch the bottom and who also had a really hard time getting to the side to grab something) were all alright. We found a place to climb out, with Chet basically dragging most of us out of the water, but Teddy and Bryan had to get Danielle and Nicole out even farther downstream when they couldn’t get back up to us.

It is something I’ll never forget, and every one of us had a different experience there. But as we trekked back through the mud (requiring another shower when we reached “home” again) the question again arose “Where the heck is Fabian?” He always seems to miss these mishaps. He’s probably better off.

We made it just in time for serving dinner and everyone pitched in with dishes again to “git ‘er done” and get to the program. We were first up tonight, and did the songs we’d planned on yesterday. It was very cool to see how into it the whole camp was, and how appreciative they were, especially since we were hard to hear with a plugged-in guitar but basically no amplification of the voices. Everyone joined in when we sang “Lord I Lift Your Name On High” because the kids know it in Spanish.

We stayed for a bit of the award ceremony and end-of-camp activities, but we had debrief to do ourselves and knew it would take a long time on the last night, so we took off early. Debrief was “Pass the Staff” (except it was actually “Pass Chet’s Machete”). The idea is that you take the “staff” and give it to someone else in the circle and say something positive about them. I got a chance to pass the machete to Sarah, Nicole, and Fabian and jump in while Chet, and Jerry had it. (My comment to Fabian was- in short- that we tend to wonder where the heck he is, but he picked a project and stuck it out. If he wasn’t at the church, he was in the kitchen doing those benches and it was a testament to his perseverance that I really admired). It was passed to everyone at least once and everyone had some really great things said. I don’t think anyone was really flattered out of their minds. Quite the opposite, most of us seemed to feel (I know I did) that what everyone says was just “who we are.” But that was the point. Just being who we are, we’re unique and special and each have our own God-given abilities and personalities that compliment the team as a whole and it was really great to know how much we can be appreciated.

It was a muddy day, but it was fun for everyone in that town, and a bonding experience for thirteen gringos and a pastor.

This is a thought from today. I separated it from the rest of today’s entry for emphasis and to differentiate the seriousness here.

Dayuma is a Huaorani woman. You can read her history right here, but the long and short of it is that she’s the reason we’re all here.

She taught Rachel Saint Wao and learned Spanish from her. She also speaks Quechua and some English phrases. After Nate Saint, Jim Elliot, Pete Flemming, Ed McCully, and Roger Youderian were killed, it was Dayuma who brought Elisabeth Elliot and Rachel Saint to the Hauorani. She was the first Christian Huaorani and Rachel Saint credited her as being “the preacher” to the tribe and beginning the transformation of the Huaorani from possibly the most violent tribe in the world to one of the most peaceful.

She could be living in Quito, or in the States. She is known all over the world as a Christian leader and the Rosetta Stone of the Huaorani. And here she is in Toñamparé, her home, with her people, hobbling along on a stick making necklaces for gringos. Four feet of concrete, trilingual, and content.

So before lunch started being served today, I found myself sitting next to her on the bench outside the kitchen. She began to speak to me, and I don’t even know if it was in Spanish, Wao, or Quechua. All I know is I didn’t understand. She smiled at me and asked a couple questions, but decided pretty fast I was either a very strange gringo or I didn’t have a clue what she was saying. She did look at my water bottle, and I held it up and unscrewed it and asked (in English) if she wanted some. She caught the gist and took a long drink.

And that was that. Soon I found myself putting spoons in bowls and bowls on tables and I’m not really sure where she wandered off to.

This woman handed us her entire culture. I gave her a drink. Can that even begin to repay her?

Travel Day: 6
On Ground Day: 4

I’ll give you a break today and not write six billion paragraphs. This is mostly because my revelations for the day were a lot more personal, and because even though we got to watch some sports and talk and play with kids a lot more than we have been, there were a lot less events crammed in today.

Morning was the usual: Fabian singing, devo, breakfast.

After breakfast the morning was a get-to-know people sesssion. We split into three groups of two parejas each. Dana/Bryan/Matt/Angela, Teddy/Nicole/Jerry/Necia, and Lane/Danielle/Sarah/me. The idea was to tell the group, particularly our pareja just our life story, our family, our walk with God; a testimony of sorts. Sarah and Danielle were away from the group when this was decided and Sarah was being a nurse, fixing up a really nasty cut a Huaorani girl had gotten. You could just see the joy in her eyes as she got to do what she does and what she loves. When the first ten minutes of our alotted half an hour had gone by, we thought we’d get to get started, but we were commandeered to go pick lemons.

It wasn’t quite the trek that the banana hunters would take later on (I’m really glad for the sake of dryness that I wasn’t on that excursion) but it was a little wet and muddy. When we got to the lemon tree it was raining, but fortunately the appropriate way to pick them is from inside the hanging branches, so we were totally covered. Unfortunatly, we were not warned that the large chunks of dead leaves and dirt in the branches were ant nests. And these are mean ants. They bite immediately and it hurts. I had three get on my arm and suffered several bites from each before I could get them off. I think they just have really strong pincers because I only squeezed one of the bites, and though it looked like some venom came out, all of them stopped burning fairly quickly. Crushing the doggone ants is the hardest part. You can break the things in half and the head half will still be biting your hand.

We took them back to the kitchen and then finally (about the time we were originally supposed to be finished) started on the testimonies. Its funny how a consistent topic in these kind of conversations throughout all twelve of us has been trust issues, and yet out of the four of us who had been strangers at the beginning of training, we talked and heard about fears, issues, and stumbles amidst faith, family, friends and relationships. Lots about relationships. A certain superlative I got in our senior yearbook was even mentioned. Oh well.

Overall it was a really great experience. I think it let us even have some revelations about ourselves as we verbally, externally processed our own faith journeys for our pareja and friends. And ended in prayer.

We made it back to lunch really late. The kids were already lining up, and it was really good that Dana, Necia and Jerry had gotten back on time to set up. I did help serve for a while, and when all the plates were passed out, I felt like Milton in Office Space (“The ratio of cake to people…”). Dana, fortunately, is awesome (and not a big eater) and shared her gigantic bowl with me, so I got lunch even though we actually ran out of food (EDIT: This was the only meal all 8 days that Roberto did not personally serve. I think he was working on dinner already. That man can stretch some food).

After we were relieved for lunch dishes afterward, I discovered that I literally had an ant in my pants. One of those monster ones from the lemon tree. Tons of fun, let me tell you, especially when he gets to bite you several times before you realize what it is. But it turned out okay, because I went back to the church to get Chet’s bug bite/anti-itch stuff and it began raining just as I was walking in the door, greeted by Teddy and Lane. It downpoured for maybe forty-five minutes, and so while we were stuck there, the three of us just got to nap in our own beds while everyone else was stuck in the kitchen or under the covering in town. And since the ant bites are more of an immediate than an ongoing problem, it turned out that the little guy gave me a little extra sleep. Too bad I crushed him under my thumb. Oh well, little ant. Maybe you taught me not to be so vindictive as well. You’ll never know.

Back just in time to set up/eat/clean up dinner and get in some practice. We were asked to sing for the program, so we had three songs prepared (Lord I Lift Your Name on High, Every Move I Make, and Open The Eyes of My Heart) and I was relieved from dishes to practice while all 12 other gringos and Fabian washed them all in record time. When we finally headed to the program, I’m not sure if we were just a few minutes too late or if we had misunderstood the request. But whatever the case, the entire program was a play in several acts with all of the South American crew involved. It was a Share-the-Gospel message as well as an anti-alcohol message that seemed pretty intense for some of the younger ones. Rey came out at the end and gave a straight up sermon about alcoholism and just slammed the secular part of Huaorani culture. Even Sarah just started giving me the highlights in her translation after a while (EDIT: It was Monday before I really began to realize how important a message that was and why Rey felt so strongly, and why those two topics were woven together the way they were. I only discuss it briefly in the post, but see my writing from Monday, June 16).

Debrief was Jerry and Necia and they had us write down 10 essential characteristics of life. It is a hard exercise to explain, and took us a little while to catch on ourselves, but it really made us think about what we need, and what we hope we’ve gained from our time with the Huaorani. We each said our number one from our list and could talk about it if we wanted. Mine was Faith. Necia’s was Brokenness, but the one from her list that stuck out to me was Surrender. When we split into parejas, Sarah and I each stole a couple of each other’s, and I’m sure that this is something I could do all the time and maybe have two the same (definitely one) and new ones depending on the stage of my life and my walk with God at the time. I may even do that periodically to see what they would be.

What would your top ten essentials be?