Donkey Days

A recent invitation to a mountain village caused us quite a bit more turmoil than we could have expected.

One Pastor Julmis works for us and has been for about six months now. He used to pastor a church in the mountains before he came here looking for work to support his family and growing children. He's been asking us to go see his church since the day he started working for us.

Well, the time had come. Last Monday Wilckly decided to take a day and go see what Julmis had been up to on his mountain. Poor Wilckly had no idea what he was getting himself, and us, into.

Here's how the day went in a nutshell:

4 am- wake up, load truck, get everyone ready
5 am- departure to a mountain I've never been to before
7 am- arrival at second leg of our journey. End truck ride, begin trek atop a donkey.
9 am- thought I would die a death by donkey
10 am- was sure I would die a death by donkey
11 am- wanted to die a death by donkey, simply to end the agony
11:30 am- arrival at the mountain village
2 pm- departure from the village
4 pm- numbness kicked in
5:30 pm- clouds hid the sunlight (darkness on a donkey)
6 pm- rain began to pour
7 pm- arrived at the truck in the yet pouring rain
8:30 pm- arrived home after driving the last leg of the journey in the back of the truck in the worst rain we've had in weeks, freezing my backside- and all my other sides- off.

Those donkeys had no compassion on us whatsoever. Neither did the terrain. I rode that donkey for as long as I could, all the while being told by our Haitian guides that, "We're almost there. We're almost there."

We were never almost there.

I finally told them to stop, that I couldn't take it anymore, and that I was walking from that point on. Half an hour later thay let me get off. It was one of the most frustrating exchanges I have had in a long while.

It took four hours one way. So eight hours of travel in order to spend three hours in a pleasant little village on none other the Haiti's Terrib Montan. (Terrible Mountain) No, I didn't make that up- that is the name of the mountian we climbed on donkeys. And I'm sure the name of my donkey was Terrib Bouwik (Terrible Donkey). I have no doubt about that.

The visit was splendid, though. Wonderful people greeted us. And they worked hard to get us there safely. One thing that stood out for me was the way the parents there treated their children. They played with them and made them smile and bounced them on their knees and joked with them. And I saw children clinging to their parents' legs for protection, both mothers and fathers. That is not common in Haiti. Not at all.

It was an adventure, for sure- one that I won't soon forget, although my back would love to forget it right now and for all time. It was hard on our bodies, but good for our spirits.

All my love,
C