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.
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.
