Village Life: Check!

My favorite thing was holding this little girl!

Last night I listened to an online sermon from Pastor Joel from the church I attend back in Iowa. He spoke on making camp with God. It hit me hard. Making camp with God means having no permanent location, camp is only temporary. Camping is a beautiful thing when there is nice weather,  your tent is set up on a soft piece of land, and is wonderful when there is not a fear of wild animals lurking in the dark. And for those other campers out there, we know this is not always true about camping. Camping, the in-tents way, is called roughing it for a reason.

We returned from spending 4 days and 3 nights in a village 5 hours outside of Kathmandu. We stayed in a mud church. The roof, sheets of tin, were held in place by bamboo and rope. 14 of us slept on the floor which was covered with a very thin foam pad. It was the same floor we shared meals on, made balloon animals for children, prayed for women, and praised our Abba on. There was a little under and inch of space between the top of the wall and the roof where you would see the occasional salamander crawling. This space also let in the cold mountain air at night. The first night I barely slept a wink, the second night I slept at least six hours, then the third night I could not wait to crawl into my sleeping bag. It was so cold. My head throbbed in the morning from no pillow. Is this the cost of discipleship or am I sleeping the way millions of people sleep every night?

Mr. Kevin and I giving the hygiene talk to the children.

 We did ministry in the village for two days; the first day was for children and the second day was for women. I gave a hygiene talk to the children with the help of Kevin dressed as a clown to make the talk humorous. I also gave a hygiene and wellness talk to the women, something I was so ecstatic about! It was difficult to explain the importance of wearing shoes outside when they never wear shoes inside. It was difficult to explain the concept of worm parasites live in the dirt and that is why we need to wear shoes when some of their homes only had dirt floors. It was difficult to explain the importance of brushing your teeth twice a day when I had yet to brush my teeth that day. It was difficult to explain the importance of bathing and washing our faces, feet, and armpits everyday when I had not showered in three days. It was difficult to explain the importance of sanitation and toilets when they maybe have a covered squatty behind their house, most of them only have a hole in the ground. It is difficult to explain that our God heals, but knowledge is a gift from God, and knowledge is more important than medicine when the have been surviving fine without western knowledge.

Some women carrying their baskets along the roadside.

When camping, it is often trial and error. Sometimes we see others tents and realize their tent is better for a certain terrain. We realize we do not know everything, even if we have the newest line of tents from North Face or Propaganda. I, as a westerner, struggled telling the women how to keep clean. These women are amazing. Some came from miles away. These women have given birth in thatched huts with no pain killers. These women work alongside the men in the fields, carrying baskets of produce and rocks on their backs with a strap around their forehead. These women wake before the sunrise to feed their families, work all day, then feed dinner to their families. These women make the food, clothing and home. From dark to dark they work. They are so beautiful.

I did many new things while in the village. I ate a fish fried whole, eyes, head, brain and all, something my vegetarian stomach was not used to. I did dishes outside; we washed each dish, set them on the ground, then rinsed by pouring water out of a basin with a bowl, then we set the dishes in a bigger bowl that was sitting on the ground. Because we, both boys and girls, were sharing the same sleeping room, I changed at night in a field beside the church. I gave hair cuts while squatting in the dirt. I ate a fried hard boiled egg for lunch as I squatted in a field. I went to the bathroom while squatting. I braided hair while squatting. I served food while serving. So much squatting!

Children squatting in the back field with their afternoon snack.

It is not always easy to make camp with God. Making camp with God, as Pastor Joel said in his sermon, is bearing the fruits of the spirit in all situations. For me making camp with God meant using self control and not gagging as I ate a fried fish head. Making camp this week meant not complaining about sleeping on the floor but realizing I was blessed to have four walls that were strong and stable with doors that locked to keep me safe. Somehow, God always brings the sun back out and our damp clothes will dry. We pack up our tent and find a different place to sleep a night. We may have to hike, we may stumble, our legs may begin to ache, and we may go hungry. Emotions are fickle, they are fleeting, momentary tricks our minds play on us to distract us from the glory around us. There is no other place I desire to camp than in the presence of my faithful protector Abba.