I was asked to go in with an awesome group of ladies (and one guy who was not too bad either even though he was a USC fan) to help clean one of the missionary family's home. They have been away on furlough and their partners are also away, so there has been no one there to keep the house up. I know I hate to come home to a dirty house after a trip and this is like 100x that experience. Imagine you have just come from a land of abundance...a land where you can get most anything you need or want within just a few minute drive...where if you have come home from a long trip and you are too tired you can call and someone will deliver food right to your door. Not only that, but this land is full of nice houses and building codes and most people live where very little of the natural world can invade your home. This land is also very very clean. So clean, in fact, that some people believe it is making everyone sick. Now you get on an airplane and fly (literally) around the world to a place that...well...is not so clean...or convenient. You get off your last plane and then canoe across a lake and hike up a huge hill with all your luggage and supplies of food, toilet paper, etc. for the next month since the plane probably won't be back until then (and if if it does come back you probably can't afford to pay for anything else to be put on it because you just spent the equivilant of the U.S. national deficit on traveling back to this home in the jungle) to walk into your house where you can relax at last??? No, you walk into your house full of mold and gecko poo. You have to sweep, mop, wipe down every wall with bleach, wash curtains, and then you can order your pizza... wait...you have to cook dinner. But before you can cook dinner you have to wash every single dish in your cupboards because they are filled with roach poo. And you have to dig through all your boxes of supplies to find something you can throw together..."oh look, there is some spaghetti noodles in this box, that will be easy! Ok, now where is the sauce??" After you have looked through everything and just can't seem to find the durn spaghetti sauce you finally decide to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and then discover that you also have no idea where the peanut butter is. So, then you have to unpack every single box you brought and when the last one is opened you find the peanut butter...right next to the spaghetti sauce. It is now midnight, and your kids have already gone to bed because their jet lag was stronger than their hunger, and you know that this means they will be up at 3 am asking if you ever found that peanut butter. Yeah, that sounds like a nightmare doesn't it?? So, that is why we went to clean.
Anyway, I was very very excited and my husband was equally jealous as he had to stay home with the kids. I told everyone that I was excited, but tried to play it cool, like, "yeah, I'm going to the jungle, this is no big deal...just an ordinary day for me." I think I did an ok job of that until I saw this...
Once I realized that we were going to have to get in that dugout canoe to get to the house, I lost all my sensibilities and acted like a kid with ADD who has had chocolate cake for breakfast on Christmas morning. I am sure all the other veteran missionaries were wondering who this dork was and why they brought me along instead of their kids who would have acted more mature than this (almost) 30 year old woman. But, everyone was really nice and pretended not be annoyed with me and I had a great time. I can't wait for the day that all I experienced does become normal.
Anyway, here are some pics from the trip. Enjoy...
(just kidding, blogger only let me add one picture..I will try again tomorrow)
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