Across the lawn and onto the dirt trail. Down a long hill filled with large stones, the size of soft balls, which makes the path look more like a dried up river bottom than a trail. Across the metal bridge that sways with each step. The wide river moves below. Up an embankment of mud to an even narrower path that takes you through a field. At the end of the field looms the hill, almost a cliff really, that you must scale to get to your destination. With so many people scaling it for so many years, small footholds are formed into the side of the hill, making it slightly more manageable. At the top is a view of a world we have only seen in movies and TV, the huts of the Ngobe Indians of Panama. Behind us is a view out over the jungles of Panama, a breathtaking view of God’s creation at it’s most beautiful.
The first time I climbed that final hill, I arrived at the top with my heart racing and my breath labored. In my mind the first thought was that I would never make it back down that steep mountain. My second thought was that I would have to scale that cliff every day, all week long. What if I can’t make it again, what if I fall? I had left my camera and other provisions in my back pack, back at the community center, a decision I was glad I made at the moment. My work gloves were in my pocket and all I had in my hand was a water bottle. I was so tired and concerned, I didn’t notice the fabulous view behind me. I only saw the thrown together huts in front of me, the clothesline with brightly colored dresses and the beginnings of a construction site to one side.
Before the day was over I would have learned how to make and mix concrete with only a shovel and half of the floor of the house we were building would be poured. To be honest I would have liked to have done more. I got tired more easily than I would have liked and I felt less than productive. Before my head hit the pillow at the end of the day I would also have made it down the hill I was so unsure of. I made it several times unaided before the week was out, but for some reason towards the end of the week, the men decided I needed help and various ones would grab on to me as we descended the hill. I realize I looked very awkward as I walked down the hill, arms flailing. For those of you who know me I am not super graceful. I also tend to exaggerate my movements in a comical way, that’s just me. I guess to the Ngobe men who did not know me, I looked as if I might crash at any moment. And well I might have, I am always appreciative of a helping hand.
The girls spent the afternoon working with the children from the community and the village on the hill. I stayed with the girls as the boys headed back to the work site. The children were energetic and really did not seem too interested in the crafts the girls had prepared. They did however, love the glitter and poured it all over the area and themselves. When the hard rains began, as they did everyday since this is the rainy season in the rain forests of Panama, the Bible story they had planned to read was abandoned. You could not hear anything over the hard rain on the metal roof. The crafts digressed into what we dubbed “Fight Club”, the girls sitting on the sides as the boys pretended to be ninjas, sometimes taking it too seriously and getting into what appeared to be real fights.
When the guys returned from the work site, a muddy game of soccer ensued. I only watched since I have never played soccer in my life. I felt I would get in the way and that I was safer on the sidelines. Looking back on it now I should have tried to play. Although the game got heated and some of the players from each side got overly competitive, I still feel like I missed out due to fear. That is never a good feeling.
Dinner was good pretty much every night and after a devotional, we were all exhausted and ready for bed. The shower ritual with 6 teenage girls to “share” with was interesting to say the least. And cold showers for a week were hard to get used to. I did get used to it, especially with no air conditioning the cold water actually felt good at some points during the week! Bedtime was interesting as well. We had lined our cots up side by side so that all seven of us could fit into one room. With snakes having been killed outside our room, bats spotted in the room to our left and mice spotted in the room to our right, the night was fraught with noises both real and imagined. Bugs were a constant that you just tried to ignore. That first night I basically laid on my back, awake and listening to every sound, feeling the need to protect these young girls as they slept.
The sun rose on another day and I wondered as I watched the clock for our 6am wake up call, whether I had made a mistake even being there. Day two would prove to be more of an adventure than I had bargained for, maybe the one time I was glad I had been there. Stay tuned.
