Month: September 2015

Dalia II, Part II

 

I am not sure where to start- there is nowhere near the emotion of our last trip, and while that usually makes a better story, honestly I am thankful! So much is attached to strong feeling and emotion here, so it is nice to have things work out kind of how they were planned.

We left at 2 AM, picked up the pastor at 3 AM in Managua and started the trip up into the mountains. We arrived in “the last civilization”, Dalia I at 5:45 AM hoping to pick up a few last supplies before heading out. We waited a bit for the markets to open, purchased what was needed then began the real adventure!

The road was not any better due to more rain in the past few weeks, but we did go on the right road (the long way), and it was amazingly different in a 4 wheel drive. We did not bottom out, we climbed the hills, we forded the creeks, and we had a little bit more room than we did not the first trip. What a difference.

We arrived there early, and while waiting we had sweet coffee and tortillas.

Around 9:30 with the church full of people (maybe 80 people), we got started. The pastor prayed then Stephen started sharing the details of the bio-sand filter. He talked them through it, did a demonstration of how to put one together and then he had two men show him how to build one. Questions were asked and answered, and people seemed to be enjoying themselves as they learned.

The final part of our time together was for the people to put together their buckets. Stephen had brought the hardware and tools while the people provided their own buckets. There was a sort of an assembly line with drills, saws, hammers going. It was great to see them enjoying the borrowed tools. In total there were about 30 buckets that were ready to be used as filters, and a promise to help others as they get their own going.

Meanwhile, I handed out color sheets and crayons to the kids, and note cards and pens to the women. They have so few things, that simple colored notecards and envelopes seemed precious to them. Kids of all ages wanted to color, and I took home quite a few autographed pictures.

As things wrapped up, and the people were filling up their buckets with gravel and sand, we were ushered into the hot, dark house for a great meal of fried chicken, beans, rice , salad, tostones and cheese. We would once again be well fortified for our ride home.

We got back on the road at around 2 PM, and arrived back in Granada at 7:30 PM, just in time to return the rented truck- what an amazing difference that truck was for our trip! The cost of the trip exceeded what we had to spend, but it is hard to quantify helping people with basic needs. A huge thank you to those who helped with this trip! We are your hands and feet right now.

All in all, it was a “boring” trip- just as I had hoped it would be! Thank you for your prayers!

I have a jr. high boy! There is something about boys this age that I have always kind of liked. Now before you go and turn me into the police or start to wonder if I am a little crazy let me explain. It is somewhere between “drive you crazy” and “awe that is so sweet”. There is an awkwardness , honesty, annoyance and a sweetness.

Tito is a 6^th grade boy. He had an older brother who hides from him and at times will wrestle with him and let him chew on his ears. Tito will run to greet him as soon as he walks in the house and the next minute jump on his back and annoy him to no end. As soon as Queso heads to the food bowl that is what Tito needs to do, too, and as soon as Queso starts playing with something Tito needs to play with it, too! Tito walks right next to Queso, copies him, and in so many ways want to be like him, but shows it by attacking him while he is napping and biting his neck.

Tito thinks gross is great! Now give me some license here because I know he is a cat, but his list of likes in the gross area is high. The other night I got up to use the restroom and noticed blood smeared on the floor, Worried, I went to investigate- blood in the bedroom and dining area, also. Tito had found a mouse and was having the time of his life playing with it! Ants, beetles and praying manis are all fun to crunch, and he can fart like no one’s business!

Tito’s distractability is somewhere in the 90 percentile. He can be doing one thing and then see a fly and full-bodied, follow it wherever it goes for the next 5 seconds. He can be occupied for 30 minutes with a cellophane wrapper, but not have the attention to eat more than a few bites of food.

And when I hold him and try to cuddle him, he lets me know that he wants none of that- there are more important things than to be cuddled by “mom”.

His front legs are too long, his ears too big, and he sits likes his body is still trying to catch up. He attacks my feet at night to wake me up, and naps right next to my computer not realizing that he does not quite fit like he used to.

But also whenever I sit down he comes and lies on my feet, he hangs out with me in the kitchen (even if it is all about the food), he has the cutes look of curiosity, and really he is good for his brother, keeping from being just an old cat. Everything is an adventure, he is willing to try things that he is not quite ready for, and he is just so much fun! That is what I like about my jr. high boys!

My Facebook post from yesterday says, “Indescribable day but I will try when I recover!” I am not sure that I have recovered because something in me changed yesterday and I am still trying to figure out what it is. I will give it a try.

We left our house at 3 AM yesterday morning, with the destination of La Dalia, Nicaragua. This is a town that is about an hour past one of our favorite towns Matagalpa, or so we thought. What we did not know is that there is a little town called La Dalia II practically off the map, in a region with no cell coverage, internet, electricity or good water in what I would term the Swiss Alps of Nicaragua.

We went up there with a pastor, his wife and our friend and translator Roger to assess the water situation, and see how Stephen could help them with water filtration.

This all sounds very clean and neat, but the reality is that it was an extremely stressful, overwhelming, dirty, scary, amazing, frustrating, miraculous, difficult, cultural day.

We arrived in La Dalia I at about 8 AM, thinking that we were at our destination. We were directed out of town, which did not surprise us since we would be talking with people about needing clean water-a typical rural issue. 45 minutes later after we had found the valley and climbed back up another mountain, I asked the pastor how close we were. “We have about an hour and a half”. This put shock and fear in me. To get to this destination we had forded several creeks, slid in mud, gone up inclines that our car was barely able to climb, and descend hills that made our brakes smoke. I was irritated that this information was just now coming to us and scared about what we would find in the next hour and a half. Honestly I was ready to turn around and go back.

We proceeded, and the road only got worse! We bottomed out the car more than I can count and we went down muddy declines that there was no way we could go back up. At one point, in order to avoid a sheer cliff, we got the car stuck in a ditch and it seemed hopeless that we would get out. The people in the few homes we saw stared at us like we were from another planet. To say I was out of my comfort zone is an understatement, and to add to that I was feeling claustrophobic in a way you can only understand when you are literally in the middle of nowhere and question if you will ever get out of there.

At about 10:30 AM, and with missing car parts, we arrived in La Dalia II. We were greeted by 10 pastors, many on horseback, several women, and pigs, dogs, chickens, and horses roaming the church property. I was thankful for a scary outhouse and a sweet cup of coffee. Then we convened in the church building for the reason we came.

What I saw was my husband in his element! He shared with them about how to make a bio-sand filter, he encouraged them in their fortitude living in this difficult and beautiful environment, and admonished them to believe in themselves, God’s work in them, and helping others. They responded amazingly to him! During the hour and a half conversation the room went from 12 people to 60 or so- men, women, children, youth. I am sure many of them had not been visited by white people before.

I was both impressed and freaked out that Stephen was loving this. I had decided on the way in that this would be my one and only trip to La Dalia II ever.

Our meeting wrapped up with singing, them praying for us, hugs and handshakes all around, and a deluge of rain, thunder and lightning. They wanted to know when we would return to help them with the next step of the project. These people were grateful that we had persevered to come visit!

We were ushered up the slippery, muddy steps to a house which was an open room with a fire/ Dutch oven in the corner and a table set for five with a nice white tablecloth. The dogs under the table kept getting shooed away, but they knew a good thing when they saw it! A baby lay in a hammock near the table. Occasionally chicks and even a pig came in to get out of the rain, and many of the people in the meeting congregated in the corners waiting out the storm.

We had a wonderful meal of chicken, rice, beans, tostones (plantains), white cheese and sweet coffee. We ate hungrily, knowing that we had a very long, if not impossible ride back.

As we left we were given corn cobs roasted over the fire, and a big bag of plantains. The cook said that she wished we would have come to her house because she has better plantains. She also asked that we would pray for her family, a blessing over the family and the crops for the season. We closed in prayer with the pastor, and then returned to our vehicle hoping that it would be ready for the long journey ahead.

What I did not mention before is that out car has an issue with overheating, and with five people in a 1999 Honda CRV we were laden down. On the way in we had blown a hose and Stephen had to do some Macgyver moves to get it back in working condition. We were told that there was a better road to get out of the village; that was an encouragement.

Within minutes we were out of the vehicle so Stephen could ford another creek and then we helped push the car up a steep incline. This process was repeated 3 or 4 more times before we got to the “better” road. The “better” road, which was about 20 kilometers long, was maintained for chicken bus traffic, and looked and drove more like a dry creek bed. The more civilization we saw the more hope we had and the more rattles we had in our car.

We arrived back in La Dalia I at 4:30 and hoped the worse was over. Unfortunately we continued to have car trouble on the way home. We stopped 4 more times to put in water and let it cool down, but miraculously we were able to get all the way home with our ailing car.

This morning as I write this Stephen has taken the car to the mechanics and I fear that we might have killed her. Car trouble is one of my biggest areas of insecurity, and we sure have had it a lot. I don’t say this casually at all, but I really think God was holding our car together yesterday.

And the people…well, it is amazing to be a part of something bigger. I even surprised myself this morning dreaming about what I could do on the next trip for the women. Stephen will be walking the men through the process of building bio-sand filters, and I think the women would love to do something special….”Yikes, God, are you changing me?”