Set a drift

There we were, drifting down the river.  A half hour earlier we had noticed our motor was leaking oil and was dangerously low so we shut off the engine to avoid damage.  There were six large sacks of charcoal and eight people in the boat, all of us huddled together under a tarp to avoid the rain. We were still two hours away from the nearest port town and I had a sudden feeling of helplessness. I had no control over the situation but then again, do we ever really have control over our lives? I couldn’t help but reflect on how I had gotten into this situation.

The day before I had left Yurimaguas. I stopped in Munichis to pick up a companion and we drove another hour to Santa Lucia, a small port on the Paranapura River. In Santa Lucia we hitched a ride in a canoe three hours up river to a Shawi village.

The port in Santa Lucia

Our plan was a short trip to visit pastors, agriculture projects and a building project. Our first stop was fruitless as the pastor was out working in his fields for the day. But the next stop was only a 45-minute walk so off we went through the jungle. The views were stunning.

 Hiking through the jungle

By early afternoon we reach the next village and visited with a Shawi brother-in-Christ about his cacao trees. He fed us lunch of boiled plantains, boiled eggs and a bowl of chicha. Chicha is a common drink made of dried corn that is ground and then boiled in water. All the water is from the river but is safe to drink in chicha because it is boiled. It can actually ferment if left to sit for a few days but the Christians all drink it fresh. He invited us to stay the night so we left our stuff and walked on to another village where they are building a new church.

 The new church

We checked on the project and met with some of the believers there to encourage them, while drinking more chicha. It was late in the day so we returned to the original village where the pastor was now home from his fields. We discussed his chickens and his needs for his church while drinking more chicha. I shared a piece of candy with his four-year-old daughter and she wanted to return the favor by offering me a large winged ant. It was a queen leaf cutter ant. They grow wings and take flight this time of year and are a local delicacy. Normally they cook them but I noticed the one she was holding was still moving so I turned it down. She just shrugged her shoulders, popped the whole thing in her mouth and crunched it up.

 The house where we stayed

After returning to our base my companion asked me if I have ever had a cold bath. “Of course,” I replied, “I live in Yurimaguas where water heaters don’t exist.” “No,” he said, “That’s not cold water, that is medium.” “The river water here is from the mountains and is much colder.” I explained to them about water heaters and that in the United States we always use warm water, but most of them just looked at me strange like I was lying. Then my companion spoke up and said he had been in a shower once in Lima with two knobs. He proceeded to tell a long story of adjusting the handles every which way and burning and freezing and screaming and we all had a good laugh. About dark I walked down to the river to bathe and I have to say, he was not lying. It was cold. The problem was the path to the river was knee deep water and mud from a recent rain so by time I returned I felt the bath was worthless. We had another bowl of chicha before crawling into the hammock for the night at the late hour of 7:00pm. What else can you do without electricity? I realized that I had not eaten anything all day except lunch and six bowls of chicha. I would pay for that as six times I crawled out of the hammock in the pitch black dark to use the bathroom that night. And of course by bathroom I mean some nearby bushes. The nighttime view was breathtaking as there was lighting and thunder in the nearby mountains and bright stars overhead.

Traveling in a canoe

Waking early the next morning our host offered to take us in his boat to the next village. It was two hours walk or 20 minutes in boat. We gladly accepted his offer. At the next village we visited Pastor Roque’s house. If you remember from our last post he eats the bones. He is a good man of God with a heart for evangelizing his people. Every chance he gets he travels the rivers preaching in villages, many hearing the name of Jesus for the first time. I had no reason for the visit except that it felt wrong to be this close to his house and not visit. We ate breakfast together and he showed us his cacao field and his chickens. We listened to his jokes over a couple of bowls of chicha before we returned to our host’s house.

We were planning to hitch a ride from a passing boat back to Santa Lucia but our host said he wanted to go there to sell some of his homemade hardwood charcoal and would give us a ride. Loading up his boat we took off just after noon but were soon flagged down by another boat. A man had a boat loaded with sacks of corn, his family and a live pig that was flopping around everywhere. His boat was over loaded and water was splashing in faster then his wife could bail. He asked if we would take his family to get some of the weight out of his boat and since we were both headed to Santa Lucia we agreed. But not more then an hour later there we were floating aimlessly down the Paranapura River.

Soon we heard a noise and around the bend came the guy with the wild pig. After much discussion we tied a rope to his boat and he towed us for two hours back to Santa Lucia.  Luckily, the only store in Santa Lucia had the gasket we needed for the engine and we spent the rest of the afternoon repairing the motor for our host so he could return home. I slept well that night not only from exhaustion but also from the knowledge that our God always provides what we need. 

 Our tow home