Trekkin' It

A few weeks ago, we headed to the mountains.  Not just for a day, not just for an overnight.  For a whole week.  We hadn’t ever camped with our three kids before -- once with the boys we spent a night at State Park.  But in the last 3 years, never.  Why not make it a big one!  Besides that, we were helping lead a trip for a bunch of foreign veterinarians and one doctor who were going to trek in the mountains and treat the flocks they found there.  Besides that, we were setting up a mobile clinic in the back of an SUV for people to come and be seen by the doctor.  Besides that, our campsite was surrounded by local shepherds’ tents.  Besides that, there were lots of tourists, townspeople, and others who were curious about us who popped in to stare at us, ask us questions -- if they dared -- and even open up our tents to look in.  Yep, when we go for it, we go for it!

I don’t want you to think we were doing this alone.  We had local staff and other workers in our business and a few foreign friends who all came along to make sure the week went okay.  And how did it go?  Smoooooth!

Well, maybe not so much.  Here are a few highlights of the not-so-smooth times:

• Abe, aka Disaster Train.  On day 2, when I was helping interpret and crowd control at the clinic, Abe decided to have an epic mud day.  He fell into the creek running between the campsite and the clinic.  The one where a sheep’s skin was decaying just downstream.  The one that didn’t smell so nice.  After we’d cleaned him up as best we could with frigid water, I heard screams again.  This time, he’d fallen in the mud.  How do you type a sigh of exasperation?  We cleaned and changed him again.  I washed out all his clothes.  I told him he’d used up his clothing allotment until those dried, so if he fell again, he’d have to stay in the tent in his sleeping bag.  He got more careful.

• Loose motion.  That’s what we call diarrhea in these parts.  Getting water from the river close-by (not the sheep-skin creek, but not much cleaner) to wash our hands and plates made for some rough spots.  I spent pretty much a whole day in a tent.  Next year, we’ll put chlorine tablets in the wash water.

• Pit toilets.  Now some of you may have an idea what that is.  A little outhouse, right?  Wrong.  Corrugated steel walls.  Big hole in the ground.  No seat.  Pile of dirt to cover your business with when you’ve finished.  And don’t forget, you’re wearing at least 3 yards of fabric too many if you want to do that with any kind of style.  And don’t forget, if it rains, it fills up the hole.  At least someone brought TP.  Sorry to my modest friends if that got a little too graphic.  It's especially fun when your newly-potty-trained girl decides she needs to go at 2 AM.

• Aforesaid tourists and townspeople.  Some people I have more grace for.  For instance, people who are nice to me or gracious or grateful or polite or respect my boundaries.  Some people I have less.  For instance, anyone who just stands and stares at me, my kids, my campsite without trying to say ‘hi.’  WE ARE NOT A ZOO!!!!  I have a bit more grace for the ones who came up and tried to strike up a conversation and ask questions.  Of course, they are curious when they see us.  It’s not every day that they see a group of people from almost every continent in the mountains near their home.  Of course, they may not know that I could understand their language somewhat or they worry their English isn’t good enough, but then, don’t just stand and stare awkwardly for 5 minutes.  Don’t pull out your camera and snap pics without asking.  Don’t open tent flaps when you don’t know what’s in there.  Don’t get in the way of people who are trying to get their work done.  Walk away.  Sometimes I responded with grace.  Sometimes I had decent conversations with people through the busyness.  Sometimes I didn’t.

• Tantrums.  Anyone who has had their kid throw a fit in a grocery store can imagine.  How do you keep your cool and manage a tantrum when you have to do so around a pack of horses, 3 tents of shepherds, staring tourists, and your international guests?  Haven’t found the answer to that one yet.

• Rain.  Ever tried to keep 3 kids under 7 entertained in a tent for a whole afternoon during a rainstorm without the help of screens?  More than once?  Thank God for the friends who were with us.  And Go Fish.  And Dr. Doolittle.

• Death.  All around us, there were carcasses.  We couldn’t always see them, but the road is rough over the mountains for migrators.  From the sheepskin in the creek to the dead goat by the mobile clinic to the collection of animals downstream on the river bank to the random ones we’d stumble upon as we hiked, the reminders of death were everywhere.  My kids probably saw more dead animals on that week than most kids in the states see in their whole lives.  Minus the ones cut up in the freezers at the supermarket.  They haven't seen a lot of those.

• Need.  It’s hard to be surrounded by need all the time.  Each person that came over the mountain needed something.  Almost all of them had some physical ailment like worms or anemia.  All of them needed treatment for their flocks.  Many needed new shoes or clothes or tarps for their tents.  No matter how big our group had been, we wouldn’t have had enough to fill all the need.  I was reminded of Jesus being followed by the crowds.  He didn’t get to everyone or everything either.

Of course, there were more things, but I don’t remember them all right now.  God is big enough for the bumps, though.  Here are some of the things that redeemed the whole week for us:

• We made it!  Our whole family stayed on the mountain the whole week.  Through stomach bugs, rain, tantrums, dirty clothes, craziness.  We did it.

• Help!  We couldn’t have done it without the whole community.  Uncles pitching in and carrying our kids around and rough-housing with them.  Aunties playing endless games of Go Fish and War.  People praying with and for us.  People willing to live life beside us and allow us to be ourselves.

• Unity.  Our group was made up of such a crazy mixture of people!  We had people from 2 religions, 5 continents, 8 countries, various ethnic and economic backgrounds.  We worked together and worked it out.  I feel it was a testimony to the prayers of the whole group and God’s grace that we didn’t spiral into one big brawl!  But, instead, we found commonalities, talked through differences, encouraged each other, built friendships, and brought help to the local community.

• Beauty.  The mountains here are the most glorious I’ve ever seen.  Get above the death and need and there is God’s majesty just screaming out to be noticed.

• Helping.  It is good to be used to bring some benefit to others.  This culture is not a culture of thank yous.  I rarely hear them.  It’s just not that important of a value here.  But, several times during this trip, people actually thanked us.  They actually stopped and turned and were grateful.  If the gifts that we gave this week made enough difference to someone that they wanted to say thanks, I’m happy we did it.