So i received my dose of adventure this week by embarking on a trip with a group of college students up the Paraguay river.
The boat we took was a beauty: a lumbering wooden structure with a varying gaps, a tiny kitchen that was located right beside the tiny bathroom ( which, i might add, had a strange toilet seat that actually made you fall in the toilet... every time). It had an electrical system that ran when the motor was running, and had been created and maintained by a spry old geezer that looked like he could be my great-great-great grandfather. To some, it was dodgy, to others, luxury. After some of the boats I've experience, i had no reason to complain about this one.
After finding our way out of the harbour, running into the ship next to us as we did so, we travelled upriver several hours until dark. From there we got off the boat and walked through fields and forest into what seemed like endless nothingness. After about 15 minutes of climbing through fences, dodging cowpies and giant frogs, hearing growling and hoping desperately it was only someone's pet dog, we reached a tiny cluster of a few bamboo huts with a church at the end of it. As we walked toward it, Riki made the pronouncement, "Becki, you are officially in the boonies".
We entered the church and were greeted by an old lady who kissed us on each cheek, according to tradition, but her toothless state combined with welcoming vigor nearly sucked my cheek right off. But how could one refuse such an animated, if not awkward, greeting? Beautiful.
We went to two different communities on different islands, and both groups spoke Guarani or another dialect, neither of which I understood. However, I was travelling with a group of people that spoke mixture of Spanish, Guarani, and German, and I couldn't understand them most of the time either and was therefore getting used to that. It's amazing how small gestures like smiles, kisses, playing music and sports, and sharing the ever-present terere, can reach far beyond language barriers.
Both places had stark cultural differences from my Canadian home (obviously): there was no electricity or sewers to be found, but crops and livestock still existed. The women wore shirts as a new sort of practise and could at any given time be seen passing a boob to the nearest crying kid. The second community of people rode two hours with their families on donkeys to receive the supplies we had brought for them. People were warm, and shared stories, terere, and even handcrafted brooms with us.
This seems humourous now, but i took my scissors along to do haircuts for those who wanted, thinking I could "contribute". But only one person wanted a haircut!... and again, it was me who learned the lesson. Instead of the attitude of "giving", I was actually going to experience a part of something bigger: a society and culture long established, ongoing traditions, different worldviews, and God who is always weaving His tapestry of lives and stories.
I was not giving, I was sharing in all that, and that in itself was a gift to me. Nothing like a trip to the middle of nowhere in south america to re-establish your way of thinking.
Amidst all that learning, I also got to go swimming in the river. It was a little unsettling when they caught four piranhas later that day from that spot, but I managed to keep my digits intact so it was okay.
I also rode a donkey.
As a child, I always begged for a pet donkey, and have a lingering fondness for the creatures. So when the second group we visited all showed up with donkeys, it was only natural that I should ride one. Having a rather primitive bit and saddle operation, I was a little unsure how to get said donkey to actually move, and I commented to my German-speaking friends "Mein Esel ist kaput" (my donkey is broken). They all found this very humourous, and I eventually got my donkey in gear and had the ride I've always dreamed of.
We started today by appearing on television. I was a little nervous when the Captain and Pastor we travelled with took off while I was speaking (with Riki translating). All I thought was " Oh balls, I'd better keep talking..." and tried to think of something very epic and moving to present. But mostly I just stuttered along as usual and hoped that Riki glossed it up with a little dose of eloquence.
Every night we slept on the top deck of the ship under the stars. I can't think of anything more wonderful. The weekend was one of new experience and unforgettable moments, too many to even begin to write about here, and my entire being feels refreshed and alive.
That said, I am ready to fall off my chair in tiredness.
Buenos noches, I'm off to bed, with another big day tomorrow.
Love to all,
becki