Sunday, November 22,
2015
Travelling the River
to Aruza
I’m pretty sure I read somewhere
that roosters crow at dawn to announce the morning, but this is not true in
Panama…no, the roosters here crow. All. Night. Long. I’m
pretty sure if you listen, the rooster can be heard stalking up the hill
through the grass in the night waiting for the exact moment someone falls
asleep and then begins his concert chaos of crowing. Without mentioning any name one of our team
would be aggravated into action, slipping out in the night, taking a risk,
attempting to stop the madness!
Good morning in Yaviza…pancakes, maple
syrup, eggs scrambled served up with boot coffee. We are pensive, thinking, praying, preparing ourselves
for our next move, up river to Aruza, our first indigenous community, the Wounaans. Under our breath praying for God’s lead, His
care, we move about the camp packing our small bags; clothing, bedding, food and
small gifts for these people, God’s family.
Everything is wrapped in large plastic bags; we will be travelling in an
open boat and the baggage needs to be protected from water spray as well as
rain. Right now though, the sun is
shining, bright, hot, Hot. Our boat ride
will be long; we are sun screened, our heads covered with hats and umbrellas on
hand, all a protection from the sun.
The boat has arrived and we trek
down to the water’s edge to load and board.
The boat, a piragua; a wooden flat bottomed dugout canoe is about forty
feet in length; we sit two by two, thirteen of us with the baggage piled up in
the middle. Operating the small Evinrude
motor at the back is Lupo and the front manned by Dalecio with a pole used for
steering and docking, these men guiding us… an unbelievable adventure that will
take us five hours upriver.
This river highway, that carries
travelers back and forth to different villages is in constant guard, monitored
by the Senafront, we make two stops to show passports and papers. All travelers must make these stops, not just
foreigners…each time we are allowed to carry on…yes go.
The river reminds me of the Jordan
River in Israel, its width, the color, the trees along its edges, the way the
branches hang down and drape over the water in places. There are many kinds of palm trees, bamboo
grasses and trees with large canopies. We
pass by other boats, loaded with people holding colorful umbrellas, boats of one
or two men carrying cargoes of plantains or papayas and others with small
families making their way somewhere; waving. Birds grace the river banks,
resting on logs, black cormorants, white pelicans, others silver and grey,
standing in groups or perched alone. Butterflies
flutter on the shores, hundreds; yellow, white, lime green scavenging over some
sweet something left on the river edges. Now and then the river banks become muddy dirt
walls topped with grasses or sometimes a hut or two, and then down again laying
low; muddy marshes where small alligators
nestle or some such animal perhaps snakes… having burrowed holes into the
banks. All the while the surf from our
small motor rolled out to the land in a ‘V’ behind us reminding us of the
vision Deanne had before we left…ask her.
Taking a fork in the river we
veer left steering our way to the shores of Aruza, our first community visit.
We are amazed at this village,
the wide cement stairs leading skyward, welcome us up… as we take each step, the
village unfolds before us…an organized grid of sidewalks, lined by huts on
stilts, thatched roofs, wires running electricity, street lights, satellite dishes, trimmed grass, clean, dotted with outhouses, a
community building, 3 church buildings, behind us a walking bridge that mimics
the Port Man, white wire cables and cement towers holding it all up. Unbelievable.
And watching us; the people who live here, children, parents, grandparents
taking us in, wondering about us.
The memories here will last a
life time…starting with the water meeting, the people waiting to hear Alan’s
message about the new water system, his name the only mark on the calendar, sitting
next to Donald the young man who spoke English, us standing in the rain getting
relief from the heat, laughing and playing football in the mud, slipping,
sliding, blowing up balloons and playing balloon volleyball, the meal, bathing
in the river to cool down and the church service, singing, listening, eyes wide
open…beautiful people, beautiful children, us; loving and learning.
We will find out that we have
been the first foreign group to travel up the river, into the red zone, in twenty years.
Unbelievable.
