Shuk, Ishka, Kimsa
Uno, Dos, Tres
One, Two, Three
I know they were thinking, “Come on you fat gringo”, as we trekked through the jungle, down one muddy hill and up another. Crossing a shallow ravine on a slick, fallen tree was quite intimidating as Cecilia and Ramiro waited on the other side, encouraging me all along the way. We were making our way deeper and deeper into the jungle with a crew of about ten indigenous Kichwa. I’m sure they reached the destination fifteen minutes or so before we did. They move extremely fast, and unlike me, they were not covered with mud. What were Cecilia and Ramiro thinking…inviting me to go with them on this excursion? Oh yeah, they needed my driving skills and my manly strength. Yea, right….
Cecilia and Ramiro are a sweet couple from the Andes mountains near Otavalo, Ecuador, about seven hours north of Misahualli. They are indigenous missionaries in their own country. Cecilia teaches with me at the school, and Ramiro is a gentle man strong in the Word. Their mission is to take the gospel to a village called Bella Vista. It is nearly five hours away by truck, but only two by boat. It only makes sense to build a motor canoe that can hold more people and make the trip in less time.
Over the river (actually crossing the river) and through the woods (the jungle, that is) and finally, the hike in to the construction site was behind us. I couldn’t believe my eyes. This canoe was huge, a few meters longer than the ones in Misahualli (approximately 45 ft). They had drug in tools, a few materials, and cut the timber right there on site…how awesome!
After a few nails and some pitch to seal her up, we were ready to launch the vessel. This is the part where my manly strength comes in. Wait a minute. These people may be small, but they are extremely powerful and made for balance. I dare not wrestle with one…not even the women! We worked together with much talking and many smiles. Rolling the canoe on logs to the edge of a steep 25 foot drop off down into the river was exciting to say the least. Shuk, ishka, kimsa or uno, dos, tres or one, two, three…whatever you please! Little by little. Inch by inch. Grunt by grunt. We managed with God’s help. Thirteen people, three languages, one mission!
We loaded the extra supplies on the wooden barge (nothing goes to waste here). The men boarded the cruise liner, and off she floats down the small shallow river. The ladies and I made the journey back out to the truck. By this time I am thoroughly WHIPPED, drenched in sweat and wheezing like I was having a childhood asthma attack. This is where my rusty driving skills come in to play. The ladies and I drove to meet the men down river with the 40 horse outboard motor and huge tank of gas. Thirty minutes or so passed and there was no sign of the massive ship. We sat on the rocky bank of the small river and hung our feet down into the cool brisk current for relief from the relentless sun.
What’s that noise?! Here they come! The men made their way around the bend. Cheering and high-fiving…laughing and smiling. Finally! They made it to the deep water. We loaded the gas and put the kicker in place. The ladies boarded the vessel with the men. They were off to Misahualli to dock and paint the boat. Cecilia and I drove back to Mishualli…an hour or so…great conversation…great adventure…great day…Thank You, Lord…
Now where’s my bed? I’m beat!