Aurimi - Part 2 - Jungle Thanksgiving

Thursday, November 24, 2016– Thanksgiving Day

           

            Time seemed to stand still in Aurimi. By the time Thanksgiving Day came it felt as if we had been in the village for weeks. I woke on Thursday morning to Paige and Ashley saying, “Happy Thanksgiving!” and still being groggy it took me a few seconds to register that it was actually a holiday back home.  I laid there for a little bit thinking; “Never in a million years would I have pictured myself laying under a mosquito net deep in the jungle on Thanksgiving Day.”

            The morning proceeded as usual, but with added excitement.  Today was the day of our jungle adventure!  The group wanted to go over to a neighboring village in order to tell them about the evangelistic meetings and pray with them.  Rain had kept us from attempting the journey the day before, so today was the day.  We tried to radio Adventist Aviation to let them know of our plans but the man with the key had left the village early that morning; therefore, the key to the radio room was somewhere deep in the jungle. 

            Braids were being given and breakfast was cooking when a father and daughter (who was maybe 1 ½ years old) showed up on our front porch. With a lot of motions and slow Indonesian, Pastor Yeri tells us the gist of what happened. He sticks his left hand out and then with his right  makes chopping motions over his fingers. The father begins pulling the girls hand out form under her bloody sleeve and my stomach immediately drops to my feet.  I brace myself to see mangled and/or missing fingers….. Check out the nursing post for the rest of the story!

            After a breakfast of rice, cooked greens, and Ruth’s amazing granola our group, of approximately 15 people, set out for the next village.  We had been told that we would go to a canoe and ride to the next village. Let’s just say I greatly over estimated how much canoe time there would be and severely under estimated how much walking there would be. So let the adventure begin!

            By Thursday I knew the general lay out of the village.  I knew which direction was the river, and where the church and other houses were.  So as we begin walking I’m assuming to head down the trail that leads to the river, but to my surprise we go in the opposite direction of the river.  This was my first clue that today was not going to be anything I had previously expected. Our group headed down a small smooth path that weaved through the village and passed houses we had visited earlier that week.  People would stop and stare as we walked, and occasionally ask where we were headed. 

            We very quickly ran out of the smooth trails that interconnected the village. It continually got more and more muddy, and the trail turned into more of an abstract idea than a concrete thing, at least that I could see.  As the trail disintegrated so did the trees over head.  We entered a long stretch of land that had obviously been destroyed by man. The trees had been chopped down but left where they landed, and the jungle was slowly attempting to reclaim what had been taken. I can only describe it as a tornado zone.  Even the smell of the rotting trees and swampy land took me back to the destruction Apison had several years ago.

Just a glimpse of the "tornado zone"

            With all the trees gone, we were left with zero shade, hundreds of logs to scurry over, and thick underbrush to wade through.  The sun beat down and seemed to radiate off the swamp and mud.  Not 10 minutes into climbing and balancing on the fallen logs I found the Achilles heel of Chacos.  Wading through the swamp ment mud would slosh between my feet and the base of my shoes.  So when I would step my shoe would grip and stay put, but my foot would slide from the slippery mud killing any remaining balance.  But to my rescue came the sturdy hands of the men we traveled with.  Most of them walked barefoot and with such ease.  I’m sure us 3 girls looked like a fish out of water. 

            There was one time in particular that stuck with me.  I was following a Papuan guy named Carl.  To the right was a small log over ankle deep mud and slop.  Carl grabbed my hand and started walking through the mud. Trusting that he knew what was best I followed behind. He then realized I was following his exact path and stopped saying, “No no!” He pointed to the log beside us and still holding my hand he walked through the murky water so that he could help me safely walk across the log.  All the guys we traveled with were so kind and so tough! They were the only reason we made it through without injury.

            After at least an hour of tumbling through the logged area we came to a narrow path that entered the jungle.  This dense jungle path only got muddier but there were no logs in the way so I could manage without too much help.  By this point our group had dwindled from 15 to more like 8.  Kathleen and some others had decided to take a different way to the village.  While Ashley had been much faster and more agile than me so after a while she and 2 other Papuans were so far ahead we could no longer see or hear them.  As we walked Paige and I both knew we would eventually meet up with Ashley but silently prayed she was ok.

            As we weaved under dense brush and through the mud a loud click filled the jungle.  It was so loud I jumped and searched to see what in the world made that sound! It happened again and I realized that it was Carl!  I wish I could better describe what he did, but he somehow would click his tongue in his mouth. The sound would reverberate through the jungle.  It was incredible! Paige and I attempted to copy him but failed miserably, and all the locals almost died laughing. Carl continued to do it and soon we heard an answer.  The same clicking sound echoed back to us from the rest of our group!

Edge of the dock looking back towards the trail

            Rather suddenly the docks appeared in front of us and there was Ashley to greet us. I turned around to see where we had come from and I could just barely see the trail before the jungle swallowed it up. We were standing on this wooden dock taking pictures and enjoying the rest when someone pointed down at our feet.  We all looked down to find leeches!! I’ve never seen leeches like these before.  They were tiny and moved like inchworms.  We quickly flicked them off before they attached themselves.  We decided we better take off our shoes to check more thoroughly.  Sure enough there were MORE! Except these were big!! One had attached itself right under my toe where it meets the ball of my foot and another had attached to my ankle under my Chaco strap! Neither Paige nor I could pull them off of ourselves; the feeling of them was too gut wrenching! Pastor Desmond was our hero (after he snapped some photos).

PC: Pastor Desmond

Tired, bloody, but leech free!

            From the docks we got into canoe’s to cross the river.  The river reminded me of something seen on an Amazon documentary; murky brown, jungle on both sides, moving swiftly, and no clue of what creatures swam just under the surface. The canoe itself was a narrow dug out log.   In order to get to the waters edge, we had to slip and slide down the knee deep mud bank.  My feet went from dirty and still bleeding from the leeches to solid black.  It looked like we were wearing boots.

Bye Ashley! (PC: Pastor Desmond)

Elder of the village as our guide (PC: Pastor Desmond)

            Crossing the river was very nerve racking! Not just because there may or may not be crocs in the water (we never got a clear answer to that question), but the slightest movement from the passengers could tip the canoe at any moment. I kept telling myself, “KD it’s ok. Your camera is in a plastic zip lock. If you flip just swim as fast as you can!”

            Thankfully, no one flipped and we made it safely across the swift current. Once across, I assumed we would follow the mud beach for a ways, but again my assumptions were all wrong.  We headed straight into what looked like a giantantic muddy cornfield (except the plants were not corn).  The plants were easily twice as tall as American corn and the leaves were razor sharp.  We soon traded the super corn for deep dense jungle.  I thought I had been in the jungle before, but that earlier trail paled in comparison to this new trek. There were many times I couldn’t see my feet as I walked because the under growth! Several times I’d trip over vines or stumble over a log because I simply could not see what my feet were running into.  We passed so many new and exciting plants! One of my favorites looked like a giant pineapple plant.  It had long arching leaves stemming 8-10 feet from the center, almost reminded me of an enormous green spider.  However, this wasn’t even the largest foliage we saw.  Some palm fronds were larger than doors, and the trunk that held them was just as massive.  The jungle has a way of making you feel so small!

            As we traveled Paige, Pastor Desmond, and myself began taking photos and would fall behind slightly.  Some of our group continued at their own pace but most would patiently wait. Probably to make sure Paige and I didn’t wander onto the wrong path and get ourselves lost.

PC: Paige

PC: Paige

  

PC: Paige

     

PC: Pastor Desmond

               








       After a very long, very humid walk we suddenly came upon the village.  It appeared almost so suddenly that if I had been looking down I could've smacked right into a house.  I then hear Paige say, “Civilization!” We both started laughing because we realized how relative that was.

            This jungle village was not what I expected at all, but then again nothing else had been either.  It was, however, just as hot as I had anticipated.  These villagers didn’t live in Honai’s. Instead, the government had sent groups of carpenters to build houses on stilts.  This group of carpenters were the 3rd group sent in (the first 2 had failed to finish).  The result of the building project was a long row of wooden stilted houses, with tin roofs, and all painted bright blue (but only on the front).  

Carpenter's house

            We took a break on the carpenter’s front porch sharing a few crackers and resting our dirty feet.  However, we didn’t stay long.   Come to find out all the villagers, except 3-4 and the builders, were gone hunting or to another village. The sky was beginning to darken as rain clouds swiftly moved in. We knew that if we didn’t cross the river in time the current would become too dangerous and we would be stuck.  We quickly prayed with the carpenters, and I silently prayed for water (at this point in the trek I had finished my liter and did not know when I’d have a chance to filter more). 

            To try and beat the, rain we decided to go back a different route (the route Kathleen and Pastor Yeri had taken).  It started to sprinkle as we began wading through another massive cornfield (or a razor-leaf field).   After no time at all we burst out onto the steep riverbank.  This time, in order to cross the river, we had to take an even smaller canoe over the now rising current. The canoe was so small it could only fit the owner, and 2 others.  My partner was Pastor Edo (one of the men that walked with Pastor Desmond).  I awkwardly scurried down the bank and immediately sank to my knees in mud. The mud was so thick my feet became stuck! So stuck in fact, that when I tried to lift my leg I was afraid my Chaco strap would snap.  In order to dislodge my feet I had to reach down and break the suction to avoid destroying my shoes.  Finally free, I shakily climb into the canoe but I some how ended up facing the wrong way. So proceeded to turn around without tipping the boat. Once situated in the canoe I attempted to wash my feet in the river but because of the awkward way I was sitting I was very obviously struggling.  So Pastor Edo bends over and begins washing my feet.  I felt so childlike and so helpless but his kindness burned deep, humbling me once again.

            We shakily crossed the river again through the rain and swift current.  The other shore was no better than the one we had just left.  I clambered up the bank and was surprised to find more stilted buildings.  They were other homes of the villagers.  Here, we waited patiently for the others to cross the river.  By this point, I was becoming extremely dehydrated and so far past the point of hunger I just wanted to sleep.  My feet felt like iron and I was dreading the walk back.   Yet, God provides.

Waiting for the others to cross the river...

            One of the men who lived on that side of the river began chopping down coconuts for us.  Pastor Edo grabbed a machete and skillfully opened one handing it to Paige and I (Ashley and Kathleen were napping in one of the open shelters).  The coconut was massive! It held probably close to 2 liters of milk.  I’ve had fresh coconut milk before, but never have I tasted one as good as this! Just as soon as we had the open coconut Pastor Yeri come down the trail smiling ear to ear.  In his hands were 2 small stalks of perfectly ripe bananas.  They were all the best shade of yellow.  I took and opened the brilliant fruit… I believe I have now tasted heaven.  I may never again find its equal, and I’m ok with that! Then someone broke open a fresh jungle Papaya.  Again, I was blown away!  I’m usually not a big fan of papaya, but this too was heavenly.  Our Thanksgiving meal may not have had all the staples like turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and the assortment of pies, but it feast nonetheless. (Ashley and Kathleen eventually joined us for the feast!)

Our feast!

            Once we were all re-energized we hit the trail again. Along the way we passed under dozens of banana and Papaya trees.  Pastor Desmond began whistling the hymn, “Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go.” This simple tune filled my heart with joy and that surprised me.  On past mission trips I would hear this exact song and simply roll my eyes, but now it was different. 

            The trail got more and more muddy as we went along but the group was still all together.   I was walking in the middle of the group, 5-6 people ahead of me and 5-6 behind.   We all came to an abrupt halt as Kathleen pointed out a dead Death Adder.  Her group had come across this extremely venomous snake on the journey to the village and had killed it.  The locals say that one bite from a Death Adder and a person has approximately 15 minutes left.  I leaned close to snap a few shots and was especially grateful that it was dead!  The locals were giggling and trying hard not to freak out over the silver Death Adder. It was obvious how scared they are of snakes (but they have good reason to be).  

Death Adder

            We continued on our way laughing off the nervous energy of seeing the (dead) Death Adder.  I still walked in the middle of the group and was fumbling with my camera trying to tuck it back into my bag.  I wasn’t necessarily watching where I was going but I was looking down focused on my bag.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a stick and go to step on it when God opened my eyes.  What I assumed was a stick came into focus as a snake! At the last possible moment my guardian angel pulled my foot back and there I was standing toe to toe with this perfectly camouflaged creature.  I’m not sure if I screamed, “Snake!” or if perhaps my angel said it for me.  I honestly don’t remember saying anything but some how every one knew immediately there was a snake on the path. It felt like an eternity that I was frozen in front of this deadly creature.  But within a fraction of a seconded of stopping and saying the words, Pastor Edo grabbed my arm wrenching me backwards towards safety.  People behind me began saying, “JUMP! Jump over the snake!”  I turned around saying, “NO!!” I may do some crazy things but there was no way I was about jump over a snake! I was willing to sit there all day until the dude decided he wanted to mosey back into the jungle before I’d jump.   

            The snake just sat there in the trail, perfectly still.  I breathed a sigh of relief thinking, “Oh good, it’s dead.”  One of the Indonesian men came around with a large stick and started poking at the snake. With lightening speed the snake came to life! Immediately going into a striking position.  The man eventually took the stick and flung the snake head over tail into the underbrush.  As soon as Pastor Edo saw the snake fly into the jungle, he grabbed my arm and dragged me behind as he full on sprinted to get as much distance between the vile creature and us!

Find the snake....

            As the reality of the situation began to sink in my adrenaline was quickly replaced by a heavy sickening feeling. I was 5^th or 6^th in line.  That means every single person in front of me, Papuans, local villagers, Paige, Ashley, everyone walked over the snake.  No one was wearing boots; everyone was either barefoot or wearing sandals. We had no protection from our knees down.  We had no medical access that deep in the jungle. No anti-venom, we did have a first aid kit but a band-aid would not necessarily fix a snake bit. It was at least an hour’s walk to the nearest radio, which meant we had no way of getting a timely medical evacuation.  There was no possible way the snake slithered onto the trail between Paige and myself.  There simply was no time.  I was not miles behind her; I was just a few feet. Plus, human eyes are attracted to areas of movement so someone would’ve seen it moving.  How could I (or Ashley and Paige) possibly make a radio call about loosing a fellow SM in the jungle on Thanksgiving?!  

There’s only one explanation.   God closed the mouth of the snake. He closed the mouth of the loins for Daniel; I fully believe that he did the same for us. He sent an extra angel to pull my foot back at the last possible moment and kept the snake calm enough to allow 6 other people walk over unharmed.

{Before there’s a flood of worried messages exploding my inbox let me finish!}

As I continued to think about the sickening radio call and the extremes of our circumstances, I remembered the lyrics to the song Pastor Desmond had whistled. “Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go. Anywhere He leads me in this world below…Anywhere, anywhere! Fear I cannot know. Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go.”

The weight I was carrying was quickly exchanged with pure thanksgiving.

Soon after the snake, the trail went from being muddy to extreme swamp goo! Again, the Achilles heel of Chacos came in. I was slipping and slidding all over the trail.  I lost my shoes several times.  Do you know how hard it is to slip out of tightened Chacos? Let me tell you, it’s hard!  I was so tired and so uncoordinated that I began uncontrollably giggling.  I knew that if I looked half as goofy as I felt it would be a hysterical sight. The only thing I could say was, “I feel like a baby giraffe!”  I can know empathize with baby giraffe’s in their struggle to stand and walk on their towering legs.

After tramping through the slop, we made it to slow moving creeks. We ended up have to wade through them. Sometimes ankle deep, sometimes waist deep. Somewhere between the refreshing water crossings and the mud banks I began thinking about home.  And just how much I missed my family.  I began thinking of old traditions.  All the good and weird traditions that make Thanksgiving what it is. One of the weird traditions I love so much is a song called, “Alice’s Restaurant”.  Every Thanksgiving my family plays this goofy song on repeat. The jungle was soon filled with this strange song as I began retelling the entire story of Alice’s Restaurant to Paige.  She kindly listened to me ramble and embellish the story. Unless she sprinted down the trail, which was unlikely because she was rubbing blisters, she didn’t have much of a choice.

Ages later, we emerged in the tornado zone again.  It was an amazing site to see! Our showers were much deserved, and much needed! We ended thanksgiving with Rice, Tempe, cooked greens, pineapple, and a strawberry cake. Ruth had sent it for us to enjoy and have a special Thanksgiving.

 

We survived!

And so that’s the story of our Jungle Thanksgiving.  It was a Thanksgiving that couldn’t be beat!

Our Indonesian strawberry cake!

Thanksgiving super