Destitute to Destination
We pulled our Jeep off the road about ten miles from the school compound. There were no houses around, so both V and I were curious - just where the village was we were having our program.
Pastor L explained the unusual landscape as we started walking down the uneven craggy path. On one side of the road was dense jungle, where we were walking had been cleared by hand by the "Mising" tribal people who fled here after their homes were washed away during the flood season. On both sides of the path we noted trees hundreds of feet tall felled by men armed with only machetes and brute strength. Before us, a clearing with scant evidence of a former jungle, only stumps rising up from sandy areas once so dense humans could not penetrate its domain.
We walked, and walked, and walked, and walked. Deeper into a world we knew nothing about. As we approached the village, L pointed out the many houses built on stilts. "These are river people," he explained. "So even though there is no river here, they are still sticking to their old ways of living. It is only with time they develop a safe feeling and build their houses on the ground."
Our advance team arrived 30 minutes before us to gather the children at the church. We heard their singing well before we saw their faces. Because of our height and the color of our hair, they surely saw us coming up the path - before we arrived.
Gathered in front of a 10 x 30 thatch church - 20 children made hand motions to the praise songs they had learned inside. None of their words did we understand - save for one "hallelujah".
They weren't quite sure what to make of the strangers, and you won't be surprised at their answer when I asked if any of them had ever seen people that looked the way we did, as I rubbed my skin and tugged at my blonde hair. "No, No, No" along with all of their heads shaking side to side. "We have never seen anyone like you!"
After our program, the village pastor invited us to his house, and asked us to pray for the family as well as the new home he was moving to the following day. The village pastor and elder of the church asked if we had ever seen a house like this, "no, no, no" and our heads shook side to side. Especially when we saw the carved tree trunk we were going to have to climb to enter.
The men all had a good laugh as they pulled us up the post, while we were praying for balance and not to go crashing through the floor. The houses are set on beams approximately 5 feet off the ground - the fall wouldn't kill us, but the embarrassment most likely would. The floors of the houses are slats 3 to 4 inches apart with bamboo mats covering the gaps. We were instructed to walk only on the slats (think of walking through an attic). We both made sure we didn't pick the same slat at the same time for fear our combined American weight would wind us up under the house instead of in it!
After the men stopped laughing long enough to tell us we should sit down - we gained a bit more comfort. There in the 20 x 20 house the pastor, his wife and seven children - lived, ate, slept and praised God for the miracles they experienced.
As the pastor shared, he told us 3 years ago he was so sick, his family had already built his coffin. But believers prayed for him and here he sits today - still preaching the Word and leading others to the Living God. These "Mising" (pronounced missing) people were once lost - but now they are found. These refugees from the floods, now have an eternal destination to look forward to - without fear and filled with hope!
No fear in falling
Pastor L explained the unusual landscape as we started walking down the uneven craggy path. On one side of the road was dense jungle, where we were walking had been cleared by hand by the "Mising" tribal people who fled here after their homes were washed away during the flood season. On both sides of the path we noted trees hundreds of feet tall felled by men armed with only machetes and brute strength. Before us, a clearing with scant evidence of a former jungle, only stumps rising up from sandy areas once so dense humans could not penetrate its domain.
We walked, and walked, and walked, and walked. Deeper into a world we knew nothing about. As we approached the village, L pointed out the many houses built on stilts. "These are river people," he explained. "So even though there is no river here, they are still sticking to their old ways of living. It is only with time they develop a safe feeling and build their houses on the ground."
Our advance team arrived 30 minutes before us to gather the children at the church. We heard their singing well before we saw their faces. Because of our height and the color of our hair, they surely saw us coming up the path - before we arrived.
Gathered in front of a 10 x 30 thatch church - 20 children made hand motions to the praise songs they had learned inside. None of their words did we understand - save for one "hallelujah".
They weren't quite sure what to make of the strangers, and you won't be surprised at their answer when I asked if any of them had ever seen people that looked the way we did, as I rubbed my skin and tugged at my blonde hair. "No, No, No" along with all of their heads shaking side to side. "We have never seen anyone like you!"
After our program, the village pastor invited us to his house, and asked us to pray for the family as well as the new home he was moving to the following day. The village pastor and elder of the church asked if we had ever seen a house like this, "no, no, no" and our heads shook side to side. Especially when we saw the carved tree trunk we were going to have to climb to enter.
The men all had a good laugh as they pulled us up the post, while we were praying for balance and not to go crashing through the floor. The houses are set on beams approximately 5 feet off the ground - the fall wouldn't kill us, but the embarrassment most likely would. The floors of the houses are slats 3 to 4 inches apart with bamboo mats covering the gaps. We were instructed to walk only on the slats (think of walking through an attic). We both made sure we didn't pick the same slat at the same time for fear our combined American weight would wind us up under the house instead of in it!
After the men stopped laughing long enough to tell us we should sit down - we gained a bit more comfort. There in the 20 x 20 house the pastor, his wife and seven children - lived, ate, slept and praised God for the miracles they experienced.
As the pastor shared, he told us 3 years ago he was so sick, his family had already built his coffin. But believers prayed for him and here he sits today - still preaching the Word and leading others to the Living God. These "Mising" (pronounced missing) people were once lost - but now they are found. These refugees from the floods, now have an eternal destination to look forward to - without fear and filled with hope!
No fear in falling
