The phrase ‘middle of nowhere’ has changed considerably since I started the race. I thought my parent’s neighborhood was in the middle of nowhere until I got to Moldova, where each family was within a farms distance away and the common pets were geese and chickens. I really did think that Moldova defined ‘middle of nowhere’ until I got to Dzuwa, Malawi in Africa. Africa brings a whole new meaning to the middle of nowhere. I have been to houses while evangelizing that lacked electricity and running water, but I haven’t lived it out. I’ve been blessed with either one or the other so far. It is now safe to say, I’m living it out. I now laugh at the fact that I thought I had experienced roughing it in other countries.
To get to the Joy to the World ministry site, here in Dzuwa, we had to do a little bit of off-roading. Our ride consisted sitting in the back of an uncovered semi truck. I could have easily won some type of award for wind-blown hair at its finest. It was all fun and games until it started to downpour, but thankfully my new teammate, James Woodley, brought a tarp along that we used to cover us and our packs.
On paths that looked only suitable for bikers, our truck driver managed to bring us down. We had to dodge and duck when the “road” was hidden by tree branches. As the ride went on, we kept saying, “Wow, we really are in the bush this month.” Ten minutes later we would get to somewhere even more remote, and again, “We are officially in the middle of nowhere.” After about another hour of that, we reached our destination.
We were greeted by an infestation of nauseating, flying insects that were exceedingly attracted to our headlamps. As a result, we have learned to wake up when the sun rises and go to bed when it sets, to avoid these critters. (That’s what people do here, anyways.) In order to take a shower, I have to walk a quarter of a mile to the well, fill up my bucket, and bring it back. I’m still perfecting carrying it on my head without spilling the water all over myself. Bucket showers rock.
PB&J sandwiches are consumed on the reg. The nearest town is like 45 minutes away, and to get there we have to rent a vehicle, so our diet is mostly bread, hard boiled eggs, and rice. We cook outside, and have to make a fire to boil our water.
Bathrooms, like they were in Moldova, are old school, outdoor outhouses. Those consist of a hole in the ground. We like to call them squatty potties. Those always smell pleasant. Not.
Ministry wise, it varies. Our first day, we went to an elementary school, made porridge and fed the children. Some of the children are too young for school, but their families send them anyways so that they can eat the free food. Today I helped plant trees. Who knows what tomorrow holds J
In all honesty, day one, I was pretty upset. I went to my room and pouted all night. I didn’t want to be here, and had thoughts of blowing up every insect that touched me with a rocket launcher. Now, I couldn’t be happier, and God changed my disposition in a matter of a good night’s rest. It is absolutely beautiful here, and again, I am becoming more appreciative of America every day of this race. I am so excited to see how God will work this month, and use me as His disciple. My goal is to say three things that I am thankful for any time a complaint crosses my mind, because I am truly blessed.
Romans 5: 3-5 – Look it up
Oh, and every day we wake up to little African children peeking through our windows. We have a different audience all day long. (that’s no joke) We are like a live performance to them no matter what we do. Somehow they find everything we do entertaining. Just gotta roll with it.
