The 24-48-hour quarterly trip to Vanimo began slower than usual, and we embarked upon our four-hour boat ride from our village an hour later than planned.
About dusk, we reached the Senu River entrance. The water level had dropped six feet in two weeks, revealing many partially submerged trees that we had to navigate around carefully. This meant going much, much slower than we had calculated.
Meanwhile, our driver had been sitting in Senu village for hours, waiting for our arrival. Finally, as it got dark, he accepted other passengers and left a message with a local man that he would come back in the morning to pick us up.
Naturally, we reached Senu about
an hour after he left.
Knowing we would need to spend the night and that the driver would not arrive until noon the next day, we surveyed our sleeping options. Fortunately, there was a house I had slept under before. Last time, someone generously gave me a large piece of cardboard to lie on, and I used a two-yard-long piece of fabric to cover myself from head to toe. While it reduced the number of mosquitoes, it felt like an oven. Every time I woke up, I looked at the clock. Time move so slowly—never more than 30 minute increments. It gave me an experiential understanding of the scripture that talks about “longing for the morning” (Psalm 130:5-6).
On this trip, however, I thought through what supplies we had on hand and was thrilled that they included a mosquito net and a fan, which I set up above the tarp I had laid on the ground. Then Orion, Sean, Joella and I all crawled under the net, carefully sealing the edges against the tarp using clothes and shoes. Normally, this netting covers only two people, so the four of us had to work together carefully to be comfortable.
Around 2:00 a.m., I awoke to the sensation of having wet feet. It was raining, and I was the recipient of what poured through a giant hole in the thatched roof above me. As Orion covered the top of the mosquito net with a small tarp and I mopped up the water using a handkerchief, Sean and Joella moved our bags to a drier spot and covered them with another tarp. Soon we were resting again.
After sunrise and morning devotions, we took down our campsite and packed up for our ride into Vanimo. Our driver arrived before 1:00 p.m.
Along the curvy and bumpy road, we all did our best not to get sick. A small boy riding with us on his first real trip into town stared at each oncoming truck like he was on a grand adventure, until his stomach could no longer handle the curves. We moved him to the front and told him to let us know if he felt sick again. From his new vantage point, he could enjoy the scenery, announce what kind of vehicle was coming and experienced slightly less motion sickness than before.
Many miles and hours later, we reached Vanimo, where we checked ourselves into a hotel to shower and rest. Our shopping for supplies would begin soon and would bring its own surprises. Just getting to Vanimo is always an adventure. Who knew what adventures awaited us on the trip back home!
