When camping, one doesn’t anticipate a night at the Taj Mahal. It’s likely that you’ll either sweat buckets or shiver most of the time. There’s a fair chance that everything you own will wind up smelling of smoke or mildew. You can count on waking with the sun (and the birds, and the random 5:00AM Thai newscast program that gets broadcast all over the countryside by loud speaker, and the incredibly urge to skip running across the orchard to the actual bathroom facility… I digress.) Likewise, when camping, you may as well go ahead and accept that THERE WILL BE BUGS. You will walk through spiders’ nests; the occasional mosquito will bite you, and you might even get stung once or twice.
Most of our tents (mine is the one in farthest back) set up in the Tammarin orchard.
Having camped a time or two in my lifetime, I pretty much felt ready for anything when upon arrival this month, we were told to pitch our tents in the middle of an orchard and proclaim “Home Sweet Home.” Clearly, though, I was unprepared for one tiny detail… or more like nine million tiny details. ANTS.
And these are not just any kind of ants, but incredibly vicious, invasive, bite-you-for-no-good-reason-at-all ANTS. Our second morning in camp, Karen, who’s tent was literally next door to mine, and I awoke to find both of our tents literally crawling (on the outside, thank goodness!) with tiny black dots. It was then I noticed the numerous, but not entirely overwhelming amount of black dots that were, in fact on the inside of my tent. Problematic? I’d say so!
I discovered a small whole having been chewed in the mesh lining of my rooftop. Cue the duck tape, go spider-monkey on the little buggers that had dared invade my sanctuary, and basically all was well. Then I actually crawled out of the tent, beat off the twenty or so that had managed to attach to my feet in the process, and quickly noticed that Karen’s shoes, having been left out over night, had literally been buried in a NEW ant hill. These ants are mutants, I swear!
Several cans of spray and a tent relocation (Karen’s, not mine) later, the problem seemed to be eradicated and for the past week or so, after basically bathing my tent in repellent, I hadn’t seen even the first ant (or mosquito or bee or anything, really.) Until today…
For the past few nights, our two teams have been staying with our ministry contacts in their “team house.” Hello beds, showers, air-conditioning, internet… This is seriously a tremendous treat and I am so thankful for the reprieve from the elements! Honestly, though, I’ve been looking forward to getting back to my tent. I quite enjoy the solitude it provides, having the freedom to spread my belongings all over the place and not have anyone complain about the mess, and feeling halfway independent in an otherwise entirely co-dependent culture.
Before leaving the orchard after work this afternoon, one of my teammates suggested grabbing our sleeping bag liners and laundering them while we have access to a washing machine. GREAT IDEA, considering mine currently smells like sweaty socks and feels about as pleasant. I skipped off to my tent to procure mine, pulled back my rain-fly, unzipped the door, dove half-way in to grab what I needed, and then I noticed a lone little ant scurrying away from my Ninja-ant-squashing abilities he’s no doubt heard of by now. My eyes stalked him, both of us knowing the inevitable fate, and just for kicks I let him scamper under my hiking pack, but only for a second. Ready to end the hunt, I lifted up the bag and TO MY HORROR discovered that my little nemeses had enlisted the help of 10,000 of his closest friends!
The little buggers had chewed a Silver-Dollar sized whole in the bottom lining of my tent, formed a RIVER of themselves, invaded every open space they could claim (including most of the pockets of my backpack) and set up a camp of their own.
My awesome tent setup in my backyard at home (testing it out before Training Camp!) May she rest in pieces.
“God, you have got to be kidding me!” is the edited version of what I wish I had screamed. The reality was far cruder, but fortunately brought the rapid attention and helpful hands of my team and squad-mates. In about five minutes, we’d managed to clear EVERYTHING out of my tent, basically just handing it over to the new “owners.” Currently, most of my possessions are scattered among the 11 still-standing tents in the middle of the orchard. My backpack got a severe spraying, was cleaned out and is now “sunning,” which is apparently a decent method for killing the invaders. My sleeping pad is also “sunning,” because Morgan and Monica assured me that it smelled disgusting and was in dire need of fresh air. 🙂
All I can say is… life goes on.
Before this month, my daily devotionals seemed to be hitting quite often on the concept and ideals of Community. I see now that God was definitely prepping me for this moment – this moment when I’m realizing that from here on out, any camping that I do will likely have to be a “shared” event with a fellow teammate. Wouldn’t you know, though, that’s a Biblical concept within itself.
“All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had.” –Acts 4:32
Nothing we own is truly ours. Everything belongs to God, and any time we become too attached to material possessions, we’re likely to be chastised or convicted with the need to reappoint God as the head of our focus. Don’t misunderstand; God didn’t appoint ants to ruin my tent, but be assured that He will certainly utilize this opportunity to continue growing my heart for community life.
Lesson learned, God, and appreciated. Now can we have some supernatural bug spray?
Be Blessed,
Ashlee
