Well, after three weeks without communication, I am finally back to somewhere that I can access internet. Where I went, there was no electricity, telephones and at times not even drinkable water nearby. It was certainly remote, but also very interesting. The mountains and jungles of Bolivia. There is so much to say that I won't ever get to tell you everything, suffice to say that these are mainly the highlights. The Road to Entre Rios Once we left Jacuiba, the frontier town of Bolivia, we headed in a short off-road type of bus toward our next destination, Entre Rios. Now I was wondering why we would need to travel in a bus of this type, but it did not take too long on the roads to work this out. Within a few minutes of our journey, we had turned off the main sealed road and commenced our journey on a rough dirt track, that was considered still one of the main routes in Bolivia. Having many mountains, and lots of rain during wet season, the roads often have to be rebuilt after each rain. Thankfully it was very dry during our time here. Along this road we trundled, and it quickly started to get more and more twisting and winding, until we were literally winding our way around goat tracks clinging unconvincingly to the edges of excessively steep mountain sides. The edges of the road and the ensuing precipice below us crept ever so close to our wheels with every corner. At several points along the journey my heart almost stopped as the edge of the road disappeared from view - and I was watching very aggressively - and all I could see was the long drop down to a faintly distant bottom. Through creeks, hairpin bends, cutbacks and steep climbs we went, the bus driver taking all in the stride of just one more day at work. I was not so convinced, and neither were the other guys in my team. When our very means of sustaining life - the road - disappeared out of sight, there was a big involuntary cry that came out of every one of our mouths each time. As we approached Entre Rios, the road leveled out and gave us some breathing space. We were all glad to have arrived at our destination still alive. The Internado - Our Home Base The first thing we did when arriving in Entre Rios was find the Internado, a place were all of the orphan kids go for a place to live. It also offers a school and more for the other kids of the town. Apart from losing water during the working part of the day, from somewhere between 9am and 6pm, the place was very comfortable. This place was to become our home base for the next three weeks. We quickly met the team of people working here, who were of an international flavour, and set out our plan of attack for our time here. One of the most disheartening things to hear was how life was going to be like out in the mountains. Life In The Mountains - A Preview During our meetings we were told to expect lots of biting insects, no electricity or telephones, and water that needed to be treated before being drunk. We were also told of the boa-constrictor pythons, tiny deadly snakes, and tigers that lived in the same places we were about to go. Malaria and Chagas' disease (something that is a chronic infestation of critters in your heart) were also on the very possible to encounter list. However, on reflection, these were not such a problem during our journeys. Entre Rios - The First Week Our first week in Entre Rios was a big campaign for Christ. Every day we went out to the houses and talked with the people about God. Virtually all of them believed in a God of some sort and many were Catholic, although only nominally so. Everyone we met was invited to come along to the special evening meetings that we were having. These meetings were held in the plaza, the football field, on the road, or in the local church building. The meetings that we held included a number of our skits that we were now very practiced at, and one of us would normally talk to the people present about something that God had changed in our lives or helped us overcome. At times we also shared a teaching from the Bible, while at other times someone from the local team took this responsibility. Many people committed their lives to Christ during this time, both during the meetings each night and during the times that we were talking with them. The church with whom we were working has its main focus however in working with the people in the mountains and jungles surrounding this area. That was where we were about to head next. Jungle Preparations Not having any idea what to expect from our two weeks we were about to spend in the jungles of Bolivia, we all were thirsty for any information we could get. The day before we left there was a meeting where we were told to pack light. Very light. This would only become more obvious however as the two weeks wore on with lots of walking every day. We were also told there would be little drinkable water and to carry enough for ourselves. To cater for these warnings, I went downtown and bought a large container for water, 2kgs of bread that would last several days, and 1kg of biscuits. This would serve me during times when there was not sufficient food. I was mistaken however, as there was always sufficient food, but this I would also not find out until later. While the others had packed their day packs with all they needed, I instead had packed my large backpack. Amazingly, it was almost full with all of the food and the water container I had added to it. And it was also very heavy. Well, not very heavy, but much heavier than the packs of everyone else. This did not worry me too much however as I knew that my pack was very comfortable to wear and had experienced walking with this amount of weight before. In any case, I felt prepared. The First Walk Getting to our first destination required a bus ride along the narrow dirt roads carved tightly against the steep mountain sides. Even though this was my second such bus ride, I was not yet used to the edge getting so very close to our wheels so often. Nor was I used to the breathtakingly beautiful views that such a road gave either. My whole time traveling, when I was not staring with disappearing hope at the edges creeping ever closer to our wheels, I was staring out with awe at the amazing views of the jungle covered mountains that disappeared in a blue haze as their peaks continued to rise into the distance. On reaching our stop, we all poured out of the bus, 12 of us in total, and started our hike. First destination was a little place called San Diego, only one hour of easy walking along a dirt track road that was only a little uphill. The views never ceased being beautiful however, and as we wandered past creeks and rivers, farmhouses and cultivated land, there was always something lovely to see. At San Diego, our first stop, we left half of the group behind. The rest of us had a further two and a half hours of walking ahead of us, and it was all uphill. The going underfoot was still easy as we remained on the same dirt track road all the way. The climb upward was not so easy however, and we often turned off the road onto single track trails that lead even more steeply up the mountain. This cut out the winding corners of the road that we were on but the extra steepness of the climb made it hard. With the sun beating down on us we were all very hot. There was little rest however, with David our leader providing a pace that surpassed that even of army officers. With the beautiful views growing even more amazing with every step, I was happy to keep going, motivated by what more I may be able to see as I got higher. The others were not so highly motivated however, and were relieved to find that the last 30 minutes of our journey was once again downhill. When we finally found ourselves at our destination, in La Vilka, we were all exhausted. We had walked the 2.5 hour journey in just under 2 hrs and were happy to not have to walk any more. We had made it, and were now high up in the mountains and amongst the jungle. The village that we were in however was very different to what we had expected. La Vilka - Impressions My initial thoughts of heading into the jungles of Bolivia was that I would be in a overgrown bushy area made of dirt pathways and mud houses with thatched roofs. Little did I expect to find that the mud houses were very conventional looking with tiled roofs and concrete floors. There were even wooden doors on some of them. I was right about the paths of dirt though, but they were roadways rather than narrow single-person tracks. They were not always this wide however, as to get to some of the houses we needed to disappear through the bush and jungle along single-person pathways to get there. Inevitably, these pathways would leave me open-mouthed, amazed at the beauty of this land I was walking through. It was really amazing stuff. But jungle is not quite what I would call it. In my mind, a jungle is something very overgrown and extremely hot and humid. Our jungle was nothing like this, and I could best explain it as being rich bush or shrub with lots of trees. There was little undergrowth, and no vines that we could swing on either, and it was located quite a distance away from the houses in the area. Each house had its own yard area, normally mud and dirt to keep away the insects that come with grass, and also because it is hard work cutting grass with only a machete. The fences are made of rocks or branches of trees and form an effective barrier to keep in the abundance of animals that each person keeps. Pigs, donkeys, horses, chickens, dogs, ducks, goats, and even more at times. It is like a farm at your doorstep, and the animals are normally free to roam where they like during the day and return for more food during the evening, although at times they get lost in the mountains. When this happens, their owners head up into the mountains to search out for their one cow or donkey, sometimes taking a week or more to find them. So here we were, in La Vilka, a place that resembled a normal township that consists of only five or six houses. It had a school and shop, and a church too, which is where we stayed while we were here. Life in La Vilka Our goal in La Vilka, as it was in most of the places that we visited during our time in the mountains, was to visit and encourage the Christians in the villages. Often these people had stopped coming to church, or were going through some tough times - one of them had just lost his wife - and the pastor was finding it difficult to do everything he normally did, plus run the church, plus get out to visit all of them. So we came to help him out and give him a break. We visited people not only in La Vilka, but also in the neighboring village of Sivingal too, which was only a one and a half hours walk away. These visits would normally last from one to four hours, and involved a lot of chatting with the people. Near the end of our visit, we would share something from the word of God and then pray with the people. Owing to the time-frame for these visits, it was normally only possible to do two or so each day. The people we met were very generous, and would often ask us to stay longer while they cooked up something delicious in their earthen ovens or over their open fires. This something delicious was something that was seasonal, so it normally happened that wherever we went it was the same "something delicious". As it was compulsory - out of manners to the people and so as not to offend them - to eat everything we were offered, if we visited multiple houses we often returned back to base completely full of food. Our returns to base, which was normally the church or house of the pastor, was normally just in time for a meal, lunch or dinner, and even though we were completely full, we were once again obliged to eat all that was set in front of us. And we ate a lot. Never did I sit down to a meal that was only one plate. As soon as we had finished our first heaped plate of food, it was quickly returned with another equally heaped pile of food that also had to be eaten. As you can imagine, I started to gain some weight during this outreach. The policy of eating all that was put in front of us was because the food resources of these people were normally limited and it took a long time and a lot of effort to cook up food. When the people offer food in these parts, all is consumed, as to not do so indicates that not only are you rejecting their food, but also their hospitality also. It is ok though, because I was able to not offend anyone in this way, and even helped out some of my team-mates not offend the people also. The Big Walk Near the end of our first week, the other part of our team that had stayed in San Diego joined up with us in La Vilka. From here we were all about to head out through the mountains to another village called San Josecito. After running our final church service for the pastor here, we all woke very early in the morning and were ready to go just as the sun was rising over the mountain ridges. To reach San Josecito, we had a six hour walk ahead of us. Well, this was assuming that we walked it quickly, which we didn't. It was nine hours later that we all staggered into this new village, suffering from exhaustion and the extra heat that beat down upon us in this very dry and extremely hot valley that we found ourselves in. It was somewhere around 42 to 48 degrees Celsius. Our walk had been virtually all uphill. After following the main river in the depths of a massive valley, jumping over rocks to cross the river almost a dozen times, we then turned off onto a smaller feeder stream. The whole track was narrow and at times difficult to manage. Vines filled with spikes threatened to rip anything you were foolish enough to expose to them. I managed to expose my nose, ankle, wrist, and shirt to these ferocious entities and was thankful for only scratches and not scars. Bush ticks also started crawling up our legs the moment we stopped for a rest. Keeping them at bay was a constant vigilance, and even then some got through the defense shields and needed to be extracted from the flesh they had buried themselves into. Only one viper crossed our path on the way through, as the thunder of our footsteps encouraged most to slide out of the way. Thankfully, it too slid away as we got nearer. Mosquitoes were not such a problem for us in this bush, but sand flies were fierce. These tiny little black, blood-sucking critters headed for any exposed skin and ignored most insect repellent. By the end of our time in the bush we were all covered in the raised red blotches of their bites that littered our legs and feet. In spite of these minor hassles, the walk was filled with sights of mountain tops, thick bush and forests, and deep valleys. It took a long time to reach the top of our walk, about six hours, but we were rewarded with a lunch location that was at the source of a mountain spring forming a creek. Here we stopped and recharged our depleted water bottles, washed and refreshed ourselves in the cold waters, and ate virtually all of the food that we had available. I finished off all of my bread that I had brought with me in this place, sharing it with the others, and was glad to have had it too. From here to San Josecito, it was all downhill. San Josecito A town that is built along the only road that runs into it, this slightly larger village is at the edge of the province in which it belongs and at the end of the road. Once again we stayed in the church building, sleeping on the slightly more modern pews. The temperature here was very hot, reaching up near 50 degrees Celcius. Even during the night it is hot, so when the guys closed all of the windows to the church, blocking out the slight breeze that we had, I was quite distressed. They then explained that this was to keep out malaria carrying mosquitoes and the vinchuka bug, carrier of Chagas disease. I reasoned that it was probably better to sweat than to die, and was thankful for their foresight. These diseases were rampant in every village that we visited where approximately 40 percent of the people were infected with Chagas disease. Once infected with this horrible parasite they would not live many more years, often leaving widows and orphans with no way of continuing the daily work. This disease is the reason for all of the improvements on the housing that were taking place. Our toilet, as usual, was in the field down the road. Simply wander down there and find a good spot that is hidden from others amongst the trees. Remember though that there could be bush ticks on the ground wanting to unite with your bottom, so there is a delicate balancing operation in place to keep a reasonable distance from the ground to keep these critters away. Once done, the local pigs come along and clean up everything that was left, considering it a good food source. Las Abras The next day a small team of us headed out from San Josecito in the Range Rover 4x4 to a very small village almost 2000 metres high in the mountains. This village, Las Abras, is made up of about twenty houses scattered around the place deep in the bush. Amazingly, all of these people are comprised of something like only four families. As soon as we left the province of San Josecito, the condition of the road decayed significantly, turning into a rough 4x4 track. After driving uphill on this for almost an hour, we finally reached the defining aspect of all of these villages - a football field around which were half a dozen houses. Only a little further on we found our new base, a tiny church. This church was thankfully with a concrete floor, but the rest of it was very traditional, with a thatched roof and chunky-wooden-planks for the walls. There were great gaps in it all which allowed the wind to blow right through the whole building. This was great when it was warm, but it was not always warm. Our arrival required the traditional welcome, a game of football with the locals. I joined in with them all, and was very excited to stop the ball from entering the goals at least once. The locals were as surprised as I was excited too, as I heard a number of mumbles about "that gringo" associated with "stopping the ball". The Source of Meat Near the table where we ate was hung a whole side of goat. I remembered my grandmother telling me how they would keep their meat hung out in the open, and my wonderment that the meat did not spoil. Now here it was before me, where I saw the meat slowly disappear every day as they cut portions off to add to our soups. I learnt much about the old ways here, and on our last day was also witness to the killing of two pigs. Now I am not so good with blood and killing. So when I saw these pigs stuck with a knife, and blood pouring out of them, it affected me quite significantly. Even more so when I turned to see the dogs ravenously gorging themselves on the bright red blood that had just come from the pigs. What really amazed me about all of this however, was seeing one of the younger girls of the house looking on from afar with disinterest. I then noticed a five year old boy sitting just a little distance away, watching the whole affair as though it was just another day in the office. What a different life these kids have. Fishing Trip For our last day in Las Abras, the others walked up here from San Josecito so we were together as one team again, and we then walked down to the local river to go fishing. The river was only 2hrs away, on a track that was virtually all downhill. It was a hot and sunny day, and although we had brought more water with us, it was not long before we had all used our water up. Lunch was a great feast of fresh river fish, caught by round cast nets in the fast running grey waters of the river. When the heavily salted fish was cooked, our chefs used sharpened sticks to pull it from the oil in the bottom of our big pot. We then presented our flat, round rocks as a plate to receive it. What a delicious fish that was, with soft, delicate flesh, and a strong flavour of salt. After lunch, we crossed the somewhat shallow river, and headed back up the mountain from where we had come. This time it was all uphill, and the day was still hot. Our problem however, was that we did not have any water left. The first house we passed, in amongst the trees, offered us some water, which only a few of us took. Because water is very scarce in these parts, most of us did not want to take too much from them, so we left with still only a little water. Continuing on, we were about to cross a dry creek when one of the guys took off running. A number of others also took off following him. Before long we were all standing around a pile of rocks, inside of which was a dug cistern that had collected water through the ground, up to several feet deep. This was a local watering point for the houses nearby. Even though the water tasted a little like pigs, and smelled stale, we all filled up our bottles and drank heavily to quench our strong thirsts. At last we were ready to scale this mountain. The return trip took just over two hours, led by some very powerful walkers. By the time we got back we were all exhausted and very pleased to be able to rest. Going Home Around this time, the sky darkened with heavy clouds that threatened to rain. Because we were here right at the end of the dry season, with the wet season about to start day now, we were always watching the weather. This did not look good. The river that we had crossed was fed by many streams up in the mountains and could swell rapidly even if there was not any rain here. Although it started to rain, it did not last, and after we all prayed about it we felt safe to wait until our scheduled departure in the morning. With the others joining us, we could not all fit into the car, so four of us had to walk. I eagerly joined this group, and with only a water bottle in our hands, we headed off through the bush tracks for San Josecito, following the shortcuts rather than the road. Most of our walk was all downhill, with parts of it down steep sides of mountains where we slipped and slid to the bottom. Our group of four were all fit and eager to get back quickly, so we decided to run down any slope that we encountered, so we made good time. At one point we were running fast down a heavily eroded track scattered with rocks, one following the other. Part of the track was deeply covered in inches of super-fine talc-powder. The moment that David, who was in front, stepped into this powder, huge clouds of white dust plumed into the air forming a wall of invisibility. Committed in my run down this steep track, I had no choice but to plow through this cloud of dust. I could see nothing, and had no idea where to step next. Blindly stepping through the rocky track, I was pleased to discover that as quickly as I had been engulfed by this white cloud, I emerged again into the bright sunlight, and still running. Phew. Reaching the river, we notice that the rain yesterday had not affected it, and our car had made it through. The last part of our walk was mostly flat ground, covered at a very brisk stride. This got us back into the hot little villiage of San Josecito in just over two hours. A very fast time for this walk. With the heat of the day and the effort we had extended, we were all exhausted after this and very hot, so we wandered down to the local stream for a refreshing wash before returning for our last lunch in the mountains. The Drive Home Our time had now come to a close, and we were about to head home to Entre Rios. With some rearranging, we managed to fit all six of us into the back of the Range Rover, with our gear strapped onto the roof. We were ready to go. The problem was that we did not get to go too far. As we started the climb out of the valley of San Josecito, the Range Rover lurched forward in spurts, clawing its way gingerly up the mountain range. Something was very wrong and none of us knew what it was. A little further up the range we stopped and looked under the hood. There was nothing we could really do. I re-arranged some cables and the guys added some water to the motor, but this was more to make us feel better than to fix the problem. The problem continued, and so we stopped again, and again, and again. Each time there seemed to be no real change. Then I decided to pray, as did the others. Within minutes the power was restored to the engine and we were off, climbing the hills with ease. Wow, what a relief that was. We passed jungle, villages and bush, crossing a bridge in one place where the road had been all but washed away. Our wheels rolled over some logs that had been placed over the washout, underneath of which was a whole lot of thin air. To me it was quite disconcerting, however I assured myself that the main road would be better. The main road did not turn out to be any better. It was a narrow and slippery dirt track carved tightly against the almost vertical sides of the mountains. Our driver, Andy, in his eagerness to return home was throwing the car around every corner, with only a short blast of the horn as we reached the apex. Unable to do anything except watch, I prayed a lot during this part of our journey. This sharp driving style quickly had a negative effect on the girls, who were stuck in the back. Sitting in a hot spot, side on to our travel, it was almost certain that they would end up feeling a little ill. We were almost home when we found out just how ill they were feeling. An emergency stop quickly helped one of them relieve the growing pains in her belly and grab some fresh air. I think they were the happiest two of our group when we finally arrived home. Back in Jacuiba The bus ride to Jacuiba was overnight, with a full moon that allowed me to look out over the mountains that I loved so much. After all of the narrow roads we had been travelling on in Bolivia, this trip seemed pretty easy now, so it did not take long before I was happily sleeping through it all. The only time I woke, was just as we passed a truck whose trailer had fallen and twisted off the edge of the road, and held in place by heavy vegetation and its connection to the truck. A stark reminder of the dangers we were exposed to. With the day spare, I raced off to the Internet, although this was cut short by a city-wide power outage. Instead I wandered around the town. Icecream was melting, drinks warming up, and fans had stopped spinning forcing the shop owners out to their doors to try and stay cool in the heat of a day approaching 48 degrees Celcius. Eventually, with the electricity still off, I decided to head back to the church. As I arrive back, over half of our team is outside waiting for a taxi to take them to Argentina. Apparently I was meant to be part of this team, but my late return meant I would be staying in Jacuiba until the morning. The face that David gave me would have cracked a rock it was so fierce. I was a little concerned until he broke into a broad smile, and I realised all was well. We farwelled them all, until we would meet them again in Argentina the next day. Border Crossing Miracles When it was time to cross the border, I did not realise the problems I would face just because I had a passport. All of the Argentines I was with were able to walk straight through the border crossing without delay, but with a passport, I was directed to wait in a slow moving line of about twenty people. As I waited, I calculated the speed of the line I was in. There was no way I would be processed before our bus left, only two hours from now. I quickly prayed about this and felt a peace. God told me that He would get me through in time. The only way I could see this happening was for the line to move faster which seemed unlikely. Even though I did not know how I trusted that I would make it. It seemed that every person in the line was taken into an examination room where their bags were unpacked and checked for drugs. Jacuiba is one of the main drug entry points to supply the Argentine market so the border crossing is pretty tight. After this examination, there is a lot of checking and cross-checking to ensure that you are not listed on the wanted persons or prohibited entry lists. After this your documents are processed and you are allowed to enter the country. This is why it was taking so long. Now I had bought a lot of stuff while in Jacuiba, and to fit it all into my backpack required the use of a strong foot to pack it in extra tight. I dreaded the thought of having to unpack and then try to repack everything yet again. So I waited in line, knowing that God would sort something out for me, but not really knowing what. I had been waiting for almost 40 minutes when David and a local guy from the church they had been visiting arrived. They asked me how long it would take to get through, and I told them my projected times. The guy with David suggested he try to get me through faster, but I told him that Mariana, my other leader, had already tried everything to get me through and the guard remained unmoved by her attempts. He decided to try anyway. Within minutes I was invited into the inspection room, ahead of the line I was just in. How incredible that had been. The guard had listened and had allowed me through. Now I was waiting for my luggage to be pulled apart. Before long, another guard entered my room and looked me over. He asked me where I was headed and what I was doing. In answering that I was a student in a church, headed for Buenos Aires he seemed to be satisfied. He glanced at my huge backpack and other bags, then reached over and picked up my water container to check it was empty. That was my inspection. I was stunned. Another incredible miracle. After this it was only a matter of minutes before the paperwork was completed and I was standing on Argentine soil. I was glad to be back. Bolivia had been a great adventure, but after spending almost a year now in Argentina, it felt like I was home. Bolivia - The End My adventures in Bolivia will leave life-long memories. I hope to return there one day. Whether for a visit or to stay I do not know, but I do know that I had a great time and loved the people there. When my outreach started, and I was selected to go to Bolivia, I was not greatly impressed with the idea. Peru sounded so much more exotic and exciting. But now that I have been and returned, I can say that Bolivia was my sort of place. I loved the mountains, the walking, the people, the toughness of it. I loved the roads, the dangers, the places that we got to see. It is a beautiful place, a place that I never knew before, a place that I hope to return to again. And it was an amazing outreach too.