As our time ended with the villagers, we were led further up the mountain. It was there that we saw the fate of the squealing pig we had heard earlier in the day. We were led into a house that had been built on stilts. The sides were planks of wood about 12 inches wide. There were small cracks between where the planks fit together. I imagined the temperature inside when it was winter time. The floor was made of a strip of weaved Bamboo that flexed and bounced like a trampoline as you walked on it. The roof looked like the roof of a hut from Gilligan's island. In the middle of the floor was a fire pit which was used for cooking and warming the hut. What a vulnerable place for fire. I wonder how many times the houses burn down?
As I went inside I found Duncan, Mr. Go, Puisi and Major Yoo all sitting around a pot of food. There was a stool at their table for me to sit at. We started out with some very cooked meat. It was cooked to a charcoal. The first thing I picked up was a rubbery, curly thing. Mr. Go and the rest of the table began laughing. In their minds this piece of meat might have been that "worst possible" part of a male pig to eat. One bite was enough for me. I slowly eased the rest of my piece back into the bowl. I suddenly or maybe not so suddenly sensed the urge to use the restroom. I asked the table where I should go? Duncan said to just go outside and go wherever I wanted.
I walked outside. There wasn't a grove of trees in sight. The area was wide open. Two guys came out of the back of the house. They were trying to figure out what I was doing. Not able to speak their language I was embarrassed to make hand motions. Dr. Smith came out and needed to go to the restroom as well. he motioned the guys that we needed to go. They took us to a little grove of trees where we were able to use the restroom in partial privacy.
Upon returning to the house I found that my bowl had a chicken foot in it. They had placed the foot so that it would grab the bowl from which it had come. Mr. Go was laughing hysterically. As I had already eaten chicken foot on this trip, I passed the foot over to Duncan.
Soon it was time to head back down the mountain. The villagers accompanied us down to the place where the four costumed girls had met us earlier in the day. From their we went on with just our group.
the rain picked up at this point. The hill became very muddy and we were sliding as we made our way down the hill. As the cows were living all over the hill there was cow dung in the middle of the path in many places. On the way up the path had been much drier allowing for more control. Plus, comind down a mountain is a bit like controlled falling. Therefore, my foot found the middle of the pile of manure. Major Yoo who was walking directly behing me thought this was hilarious. she said that I had to journal it. Thus, that's why your reading this.
I made it down the mountain about 100 yards ahead of the other guys on our team. I was traveling with a group of the locals. Getting down was quite an achievement. I immediately went to a fountain and washed my shoes. The altitudes and the climb had worn me out.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Eat honey, My son, for it is sweet
The trip became very slippery as the rain continued. At one point as we were climbing there was a cow standing on the side of the path. The cow slipped and began falling toward me. I backed up to keep from getting run over by the beast. AS we neared the village there was a spot where you could hear your voice echo for miles. Duncan was yelling hello to himself. So I yelled, "J-Roc." It bounced back and forth off the mountain walls.
The high altitudes were another great obstacle for us. Just a few feet 20 or 25 and I was highly out of breath. Well, as we were climbing the mountain the president of the women's federation offered to take my backpack. I refused. I didn't think it would show my southern gentleman traits which I had been brought up with. Half way up the mountain however I was drenched with sweat. She didn't have a drop of sweat on her. She offered again. So, I am not sure what happened next but somehow she had the backpack and we were off and up the mountain again.
When we arrived at the village we were greeted on a basketball court by a group of villagers. They served us some honey straight from the comb. It was some of the sweetest honey and a great way to rest from the long journey we had just been on.
Later, I found that Proverbs 24:13,14 says:
Eat honey, my son, for it is good; honey from the comb is sweet to your taste. Know also that wisdom is sweet to your soul; if you find it, there is a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off.
I was struck by the irony of a village whose lifeline and hope was being cut off through the pillaging of its women, serving as its welcoming dish, a bowl of honey. It reminded me that there is hope for this village.
As we were sitting there eating honey we heard a pig squealing in the distance. Dr. Mike asked someone why the pig was squealing and he was told they were preparing supper.
We met with the leader of the village and he answered a few questions for us. There were four girls who were dressed in traditional dress representing there village. Each dress cost 100 rmb to make or $12 US Dollars. In the village each person makes about 10 cents a day. So a $12 dollar dress would be worth about 4 months salary. I reflected that with 1.3 billion people in China, if you equally divided the Kroc donation you could give each person around $2. In this village that $2 would be equal to almost a month's salary.
Once we got passed the intial meeting Dr. Smith and I moved to a house with a son whose mom had been trafficked. The mom left for the market one day and never returned. Some other women saw her in a different region.
It was a very difficult interview. There we were, outsiders, who had never been to this village ot met these people and we were asking them questions about a time in their life when they had been completely abandoned by the one's they loved the most. The pain was obvious in his eyes.
As we talked with this family another lady was there who began to tell us about her situation. She had been married to a wonderful man. He passed away. She then remarried. This man treated her very badly. She explained that he dinks all the time. He is not a Christian. She explained that many of the men in the village had become Christians. The Christians were kind to their wives and had put alchohol aside. She was moved to tears and it was obvious that her pain was deep. As the tears streamed down her cheeks Peggy began to get out a tissue. Dr. Smith stopped her. He told Peggy that giving her a tissue would keep the lady from crying. He said that the lady needed to cry. He was probably right, being a PhD and all. But I couldn't help asking myself what was behind the tears? Perhaps the discussion about trafficking and leaving had brought to her mind the thoughts SHE had been having about leaving. I don't know this to be the case but it was certainly the sense I got. Perhaps her tears were not just about the sadness about the situation she was in but also tears of remorse about the decision she was contemplating. It must have been difficult for her to sit there and see the pain of the thirteen year old boy left without a mother and consider the way her actions could hurt her children and the rest of the village.
The high altitudes were another great obstacle for us. Just a few feet 20 or 25 and I was highly out of breath. Well, as we were climbing the mountain the president of the women's federation offered to take my backpack. I refused. I didn't think it would show my southern gentleman traits which I had been brought up with. Half way up the mountain however I was drenched with sweat. She didn't have a drop of sweat on her. She offered again. So, I am not sure what happened next but somehow she had the backpack and we were off and up the mountain again.
When we arrived at the village we were greeted on a basketball court by a group of villagers. They served us some honey straight from the comb. It was some of the sweetest honey and a great way to rest from the long journey we had just been on.
Later, I found that Proverbs 24:13,14 says:
Eat honey, my son, for it is good; honey from the comb is sweet to your taste. Know also that wisdom is sweet to your soul; if you find it, there is a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off.
I was struck by the irony of a village whose lifeline and hope was being cut off through the pillaging of its women, serving as its welcoming dish, a bowl of honey. It reminded me that there is hope for this village.
As we were sitting there eating honey we heard a pig squealing in the distance. Dr. Mike asked someone why the pig was squealing and he was told they were preparing supper.
We met with the leader of the village and he answered a few questions for us. There were four girls who were dressed in traditional dress representing there village. Each dress cost 100 rmb to make or $12 US Dollars. In the village each person makes about 10 cents a day. So a $12 dollar dress would be worth about 4 months salary. I reflected that with 1.3 billion people in China, if you equally divided the Kroc donation you could give each person around $2. In this village that $2 would be equal to almost a month's salary.
Once we got passed the intial meeting Dr. Smith and I moved to a house with a son whose mom had been trafficked. The mom left for the market one day and never returned. Some other women saw her in a different region.
It was a very difficult interview. There we were, outsiders, who had never been to this village ot met these people and we were asking them questions about a time in their life when they had been completely abandoned by the one's they loved the most. The pain was obvious in his eyes.
As we talked with this family another lady was there who began to tell us about her situation. She had been married to a wonderful man. He passed away. She then remarried. This man treated her very badly. She explained that he dinks all the time. He is not a Christian. She explained that many of the men in the village had become Christians. The Christians were kind to their wives and had put alchohol aside. She was moved to tears and it was obvious that her pain was deep. As the tears streamed down her cheeks Peggy began to get out a tissue. Dr. Smith stopped her. He told Peggy that giving her a tissue would keep the lady from crying. He said that the lady needed to cry. He was probably right, being a PhD and all. But I couldn't help asking myself what was behind the tears? Perhaps the discussion about trafficking and leaving had brought to her mind the thoughts SHE had been having about leaving. I don't know this to be the case but it was certainly the sense I got. Perhaps her tears were not just about the sadness about the situation she was in but also tears of remorse about the decision she was contemplating. It must have been difficult for her to sit there and see the pain of the thirteen year old boy left without a mother and consider the way her actions could hurt her children and the rest of the village.
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