Quininde

We survived Quininde. It's Saturday, 7:13 pm, and Jesse, who has been up for the past 7 hours and 13 minutes, has finally gone to sleep. So I am free to write.

The trip was an eye opener. The team, consisting of Jonkmans, Harskamps, and three Canadian missionaries left early Thursday morning with the objective of exploring the various mission projects Dr. Jenny is involved in in the tropical, humid, poverty stricken town of Quininde. The drive was a beautiful three hour trek through the mountains heading East toward the coast. It was also windy, and a little crowded with a squirmy kid that needed to be held because car seats are not part of Ecuadorian life. James also got car sick.

On arrival, we dropped the mens' things at El Refugio, and got down to business. First stop: Cesar Proano-- an afterschool child sponsorship program where three times a week children get fed, tutored, and mentored. The area is barren, the building simple, and barefooted children scamper in and out on a continual basis. We arrived, were served a very filling lunch of potato noodle soup, rice, beans, and platinos, with coke as the staple beverage. There was no way I could finish.

As we ate, children in blue T shirts began to fill the building, taking their seats expectantly for the noon meal-slash-swarming Jesse's stroller and touching his very white skin. Our team had the privilege of serving 100 kids their lunch, which was the same meal and portion size as that of the adults, and which posed no problem to any of them. Satisfying work.

After lunch, we cleared tables, talked with the kids, "helped" with homework, and watched the teacher led tutorials. A pretty neat operation, and quite obvious that the kids absolutely love the attention.

After Cesar Proano, we headed to the next site in Malecon-- and what I would consider the ghetto of Quininde. The project lot is situated in a very poor black neighborhood. It's on a dirt road that is lined with houses that line the river. These homes have no electricity, no running water, and worst of all, no bathrooms. The river serves a number of needs-- bathroom, shower, and laundry room. Prostitution is also rampant here, and the need to begin the project is obvious. So far, they have bought the lot, which came with the start of a building. Apparently the previous owner had tried, unsuccessfully, to build his home here, but could not continue due to theft, and eventually he was forced to abandon the project. From the stories we heard, God definitely had His hand in the purchase of this property, considering the former owner almost sold it to become another brothel house. Thank God it went to San Lucas instead.

But aside from a thriving banana tree (producing 500 bananas in a year!) the place looks like a bit of a rubble heap. But it has serious potential, and once construction starts, it will be an oasis in Malecon.

By now it is late afternoon; our son is getting antsy, and his parents tired. But-- on to the next project. This one needs some real vision, consisting of 2 acres of palm trees. They bought the property 5 years ago, and have been saving funds to start construction on a wall. The estimated money needed is 60,000, and the idea is to start a clinic, begin some minor industry (so that they can become a self-sustaining institution) and some educational programs to teach proper nutrition etc. Jenny is a visionary. (She really is amazing. Arlene told us a story of how a 'bridge' of two planks across a river terrorized Jenny to the point of rallying her neighbours, collecting funds, and building a proper bridge for motorized vehicles. Who does that?!)

Jenny explaining the future vision of the site.

By this time, Jesse is really ticked. We were advised not to let him toddle around on the ground, because the bacteria in the dirt could get him really sick, and this didn't go over well with him. He's an active creature. Unfortunately, we had no option but to hold him all day.. which didn't suit any of us. We were definitely getting antsy to head to Jenny's, and call it a day.

But, the group needed to eat, and the general consensus was to go to a restaurant. James and I opted out of this arrangement, and decided we'd rather go hungry than hold Jesse for another minute. So, we were dropped off on Jenny's palm tree plantation--a 30 minute drive over rocks and potholes that finally soothed our son to sleep, and created back spasms in the rest of us. And here, the adventure's really began.

I should start by saying James and I are a couple that compliment eachother, most of the time. Our differences often balance out our relationship.

However, there are times when they don't.

The coastal region of Ecuador has a lot of bugs. There are big beetles, bats, wasps, frogs, centipedes, frogs that can kill you, moths the size of your face... things that might not be so bad if you grew up in the country. If you are from a suburb in Surrey, however, these things are bothersome. In addition, if you are accustomed to sanitary conditions, like you might find, for instance, in a biology lab, life in the tropics would appear alarming. A bucket for a shower, dead bugs on the floor, live bugs on the wall, bats- affectionately termed 'night birds' in the dining room, a wasps nest IN the living room, geckoes in the bathroom, and the ever present threat of malaria from the mosquitos, which are all but welcomed into the home by the one functioning light and a sloppy screen cover that works more as a door for night time critters.

ALL of this to say that James has an eye for detail, and he noticed it. All of it.

I have to say that in this situation, I am glad that I am more of a 'big picture' person, or just plain unobservant. My ignorance in sanitation is bliss, and Jesse can just thank his lucky stars his dad was on the alert. However, this was a night when I needed to feel some security, and my balancing counterpart was having a hard time offering it in light of his bug phobia's, and preoccupation with sanitation.

ANYWAYS, we got dropped off here, at night, with no instructions but to enjoy ourselves because they would be out late.

Ten minutes later, the power went out.

Black does not describe a power outage in the tropics. James disappeared. Jesse disappeared (and I was holding him). There was just-nada. Until Jesse started crying.

We made a consecutive decision to deal with the blackness by going to bed and closing our eyes (yes, it was 7:30) After a long, tiring day, devotions and sleep sounded good. Neither was really possible with an upset baby. He was thrown off by his mosquito net, and felt the urge to pull it down and wrap it around his stumpy body. I decided it was OK if he got malaria, as long as he fell asleep. 30 minutes later, mid-prayer, the power kicked back in.

Praising God, I jumped out of bed and headed for the living room, only to see a bat spastically fly across the room. Gross.

10 minutes later, I tried again. With the bat out of site, James joined me in the living room, where we began twiddling our thumbs. I am not a dependent on technology by any means, but a house with no phone, T.V, music, or internet is a rare thing, and it leaves you feeling quite vulnerable. Especially when a strange man walks up the stairs, past you, and into the kitchen.

At this point, my nerves had had enough.

We figured out he was just dropping off groceries for Jenny, but after living in Quito behind locked doors and fences, the 'open' concept idea takes some adjustment, and I did not feel safe. So, back to bed we went, tucked safely under our mosquito net. Until I decided to plug the fan in to combat the humidity. "Electrocuted" might be a bit strong, but a white flash of light and a tingle in my fingers convinced me to leave the temperamental outlets alone and just go to bed.

I was out like a light.

This was our first day in Quininde. Had our mission work been located in this lovely area of the world, we may have only lasted a week. I think God still has a thing or two to show us, the obvious thing being an awareness of how spoiled we are.

Thankfully, everything ALWAYS looks better in the morning, and nothing could be truer of this place. Jenny and her husband live in a tropical paradise. Their house has a huge rectangle window (no glass, just open) allowing for an unobstructed view of the river, palm trees, tropical birds, and all the smells and sounds that go with it. Lovely.

Add to that a breakfast of fresh mango, and you can take on the day.

I will leave it at that for now. This is getting lengthy.

Very precarious bridge.

Mango for breakfast.

Burro in the backyard.

Wild tropical flowers.

The house!

Jesse's rocker

Swarming the stroller

Homework

The teacher's group

A pink chick. I have no idea...