As you read this, maybe you can think about how you can pray for the Unreached Peoples in remote areas like this, and for those who have been sent to share with them...
Let’s start with The Road.
There are two roads that lead to my friend’s area. The first one takes about 9 hours, and most of it is really dangerous. Rock-slides are common. Sometimes streams cross the road. Switchbacks carry you up one mountain, down the other side, and up the next. Last time we went that way, and it took 3 hours to go 30km. The benefit of taking this road is that it drops you off right at her village. All you have to do is hike about 10 minutes down to the river, cross the river on a raft, and walk uphill about 20 minutes, and you’re there.
The second road takes about 7 hours. It’s not the best road. Right now they’re doing a lot of work on it, so it’s covered in potholes and other obstructions. There are long stretches where there is no road. There aren’t as many places where you think you’ll fall off the side of the mountain or be covered in a rockslide, but it’s not much more comfortable that the first road. This road only takes you to the first village in this area. It’s 4 hour walk to my friend’s house from there – and it’s all downhill. (That means on the way out it’s all uphill.)
Here, you can see a switchback road carved into the side of the distant mountain. Follow the road all the way to the bottom of the valley, and cross the river, and you are at my friend's village. This photo was taken during our return hike, about 3 1/2 hours after we started walking. It was far. It felt farther.
So, this time we are taking the cheaper route – Road 2. Round trip for 2 people will cost us less than $20.
The truck carries cargo to and from the villages. This time we are carrying a truckload of shingles, a few sheets of greenhouse plastic, some chickens, and some other building materials. I know because I have to hide in the back of the truck for a while. This route passes through a touristy area where non-locals are expected to pay a huge fee just to use the road. I will never pass as a local, so the locals stuff me in the back with the chickens and rice and smuggle me through.
We set out rather late this time. It's 4:30 pm before we leave the city. That means we expect to arrive in the first village around 2am. There are 8 of us stuffed into the cab. 4 in back, 4 in front at different angles. The man next to me didn’t sleep last night, so he keeps nodding off, his big cowboy hat hitting me in the head. At one point, I lean forward and nap with my head on my knees. I wake to find his head on my kidney, hat squished to the side.
Its 11:30pm. We have been traveling along terribly bumpy road for several hours. The truck ascends to a bald mountaintop to find the road is blocked with piles of gravel and sand. In the morning I will walk and count 102 piles. With the darkness and unfamiliar road, the driver doesn’t know what to do. We can’t go forward, it’s too dark to turn around, and it’s unclear whether we can bypass the blockage. The engine is off now, and people are trying to get comfortable for a night’s sleep in the truck.
I’m closest to the door, the wind howling outside. My friend’s village is low near the river, so it’s warm there. I’m wearing only a t-shirt and light fleece. We are now stopped on top of a high mountain. My tailbone hurts, I’m cold and can’t find a comfortable position in the cramped cab. I sleep restlessly, spending at least 20 minutes of each hour awake. I anxiously long for the first light of morning.
When morning comes, we find our way around the gravel piles and are off again. We expected to arrive in the village at 2am; we arrive at noon. My friend’s grandparents live in the first village, so we go there for a quick lunch before making our descent on foot. I am famished from the night in the truck and the morning without breakfast. Being poor, our elderly hosts can offer us nothing but noodles with fried egg and pig fat. It’s not enough for my padded American bones, I dread the long walk ahead of me.
We set out down the mountain on foot. Happily, I find that the first few hours aren’t so bad. The trail is not so steep, the weather is nice, my legs are a little tired but I can walk. After 3 hours things change. It is steeper down here, and the trail is gravel and sand. I fall about 5 times, once into a pile of horse manure. Finally, at about 5pm we arrive at my friend’s house. Again, I am famished and craving something substantial. What do we eat? Pig fat, fried eggs, rice, and some half-decent beef with too much fat attached.
Thankfully, I get to spend an entire week in the village before having to endure another long travel day back. When the time does come to return to the city, we set out early to avoid the heat of the sun. The entirely uphill walk is much harder than I expected, perhaps because I have eaten pig fat and rice almost exclusively for several days. The last hour or two of our hike, I find I can hardly put one foot in front of the other. It’s hot, I’m malnourished, and I’m not in the best shape.
Again, at her grandparents’ house in the first village, we eat fried eggs and pig fat. This time on rice, not noodles. I sneak my snickers and granola bars while my friend washes her grandfather’s clothes. At about 5pm, we pack into a police officer’s jeep and prepare for the long road back to the city.
There’s a forest fire blocking the road, so the driver takes a short cut. I’m certain this road has not bee
n driven on in years. Small pine trees are growing in the middle. Our driver drives far too fast, and my neck hurts from holding my head up on the bumpy road. After a few miles, the driver adjusts his mirror to watch me while he drives. I pretend not to notice.
