Time for (Mis)Adventure

Dearest Rachel –

In a way, it feels weird to spend a day completely away from working at Just One, especially considering how much work there is to do.  The poor, as Jesus said, will always be with us, and they will always have needs we can fill for them, hopefully in an attempt to draw them to Him.  For us to walk away from that work to do sightseeing seem almost inappropriate.

At the same time, I suppose it’s the nature of ‘volun-tourism’ to reward those who take their vacation time to serve in such a capacity with a day of rest, of sorts. And it’s best to do so after they’ve (we’ve) put in their time; leave the easy day for last, if nothing else, or at least consider it recompense for services rendered (note the use of the past tense).

Although to call it an “easy” day might be stretching things; certainly, I can have easier days back at home any day of the week, that’s for sure. But in order to do so, I don’t leave the house, or do anything, and that’s really not an option out here. Because, when will the opportunity to be here come around again? Might as well take in the natural beauty of the place, because the chance might not come again.

(Technically, there’s plenty of opportunity to return; there are regular trips organized twice a year for volunteers to come down to Honduras to help out at Just One, during February and July. I could mark off the time on my calendar going forward from now on. We’ll have to see what happens, though)

For now, though, it’s time for our ‘adventure’ day, and the gang is going kayaking on a local river and lake. Now, I say “local,” but the river is actually about an hour or so drive away from Siguatepeque. In which direction, I couldn’t tell you, and the name of the place might very well mean nothing to you even if I had it on hand. I will say that, given the winding mountain roads, it’s not nearly as far away (at least, as the crow flies) from either our hotel or the organizational headquarters as it would be if one were to drive in Illinois, so giving you a time doesn’t give you a feel for the distance (or lack thereof). It’s hard to get a feel for proportions when you’re down here.

But we arrive at our destination some time between ten and eleven, and after our driver gets stuck in the muddy grass outside of the place (necessitating a few guys to get out and push the van a bit), we’re getting kitted out in life vests and making our way to the river’s edge to start our little excursion.

We paddle out for something like a half hour (and just a little more than a mile) until the river empties into a lake. Some of the others go far into the lake, but I’m drawn to a limestone outcropping covered in trees (in the middle of what otherwise looks like savanna) that resembles one of the littler islands among your favorite place in the world, and I close in to check it out.

It’s at this point that I have to confess to having forgotten to bring the shaker with me on this excursion. I know you would want to be cast adrift in one body or another along my travels, but it seems that I just left you behind when we piled into the van this morning. However, I console myself with the fact that you’ve already been left somewhere here in Honduras; that will have to be sufficient for the moment, I’m afraid. Maybe there will be another time.

I don’t charge out to the head of the pack as everybody heads to the lake; and as I arrive, someone mentions that we need to return to the dock in half an hour, so it would be time to head back. To be honest, there doesn’t look like much in particular to see out there, apart from the mountains beyond, and the riverbank offers shelter (in the form of trees growing up to the waters’ edge) that isn’t available in the middle of the lake. So I reverse course as the others who’ve gone ahead pass me up on their return trip.

I don’t even turn around right away; the principle of paddling works the same whether you’re going forward or in reverse, and after the effort of propelling the kayak forward for something more than a mile, it’s actually nice to be using different muscles to essentially push the craft backwards, rather than pulling it through the water. I do have to admit to causing a few others to try the maneuver, with varying degrees of success; one girl wound up nearly crashing into the riverbank, which wouldn’t have been so bad at the speed she was going, but some of the flora growing in the river had thorns on them, so I made a point to row over to her and extricate her.

And with that misadventure over, I decided to shepherd her and the last of the stragglers to the dock, and wait until everyone else was safely ashore before bringing my kayak in. This may have been a mistake, as I had difficulty pulling myself up from my kayak once I nestled it between the railings. As I tried to step out and onto the dock, it slipped out from under me, leaving me hanging onto the bar with both hands (precluding me from grabbing that of the proprietor or the local head of Just One, who had come with us), one foot tangled in the dock and the other in the river, trying to find the bed in order to possibly stand up in there.

I’d assumed that I would lose weight on this trip from working hard here and there, but the fact that they make sure we get our three squares rather precludes that possibility; I’ll have to look into the damage done when I get back. For now, though, we were on our way to lunch at an American-themed place in the resort area by the river.

In fact, the place is full of old mechanical stuff that they’ve turned into either displays (the restaurant’s name is “Museo” – ‘museum’ – after all) or useful parts of the place’s operation. Your dad would have mightily approved, I dare say.

We did actually get back to the Just One facility after that, to collect the last of whatever stuff we’d left behind – and, more to the point, say goodbye to everyone and join them in worship down in the library/clinic/multipurpose room. I honestly don’t know what to say to these folks, especially with the language barrier, so I tried to stand there and smile benignly, along with the occasional thank to each of them for putting up with me as I tried to contribute in my feeble way. I hope they understood.

For now, though, we have to get ourselves put together for the trip back, which I hope won’t turn into a misadventure of its own. Whether it does or not, honey, I’ll still ask you to keep an eye on us, and wish us luck; we’re going to need it.