I have just had a most incredible weekend. It was a time of absolute physical, mental, and spiritual challenge.
Kimberlee and I decided we were gong to hike Mt. Adaklu, a two to four hour hike, it can't be that bad, right? Then when we finished we would stay in a simple guesthouse. After three hours of travel to a village only twenty km away we finally made it to the small village of Helekpe, at the base of the mountain. (Transportation included cramming twenty people onto side wooden benches, into the covered back of a pick-up truck, driving down a clay road covered in holes and water, and yes, of course, getting a flat tire).
Once in Helekpe, we were showed to the visitors center, a wooden bench under a thatched roof lean-to; there we paid for and arranged the hike, meals, and sleeping accommodations. We were then introduced to a guide, a young boy, maybe seventeen years old, who would show us to the guesthouse so we could drop off some things before we began the hike. Well, this walk was so intense, Kimberlee even asked if we had already begun the hike. It was all uphill, we were literally climbing rocks, the sun was beating down, we were soaking wet from sweat, and out of breath.
Finally, after forty minutes we made it to a tiny village which is part of a community based tourism project. We were welcomed by the hostess and guide who would take us up the mountain, and then showed to our guesthouse across the village. It was a small concrete building with a tin roof and three doors, we were taken to the door on the farthest left; inside was a small sitting room empty except for plastic chairs, and then a small bedroom with a double bed. We emptied our bags, were greeted and wished good luck by the village chief, and were off on our hike.
Needless to say it was the most challenging hike of my life--we were climbing up rocks, on narrow muddy paths, and at some points the incline was so difficult we had the assistance of a rope (and I fell at least five times). When we made it to the summit we sat down and looked out over the vast African land, observing nearby mountains and tiny specks of villages recognizable by their glistening tin roofs. As we struggled up the mountain and then back down, I kept thinking "What am I doing?" I was completely physically challenged, my body was tired, my thighs were burning, and my calves were sore. But I was also mentally challenged, as I searched to find the best places to put my feet and hands when needed, and to remember to look up and observe the beauty surrounding me.
When we returned to the village, we were welcomed back by the chief, then given a coke by the hostess, and showed to an outdoor shower by our room--a wooden fence and a bucket of water. Once showered and dressed, we were given a tour of the village, and then were served dinner: banku (sort of like fufu, but better) and a red spicy stew with meat (which I only hoped was chicken). Then we went back to the room and waited for our guide to put a mosquito net up for us.
As he was hanging the net, children began to gather in our sitting room, just a few at first. At this point the sun had set and there is no electricity in the village so we were sitting in the dark with one flashlight--for lack of communication I began to entertain the children with the light. Over the next hour we had at least fifteen kids in our room; we sat together in the dark and exchanged English and Ewe songs and yes, dance moves, including the hand jive and Macarena. We also taught Father Abraham and everyone was dancing and singing (including the guide who took us up the mountain)--this was one of the most joyful moments of my life as Kimberlee and I crossed boundaries of age, race, and culture, through a moment of pure happiness.
Once it was late the children left. As we were getting ready for bed we needed to use the bathroom--there is one bathroom in the village, or rather one hole in the ground in a wooden box. So we left our rooms and stumbled through the village in the absolute darkness with our flashlights. On our way back I looked up into the dark sky and was instantly amazed. I could clearly see what looked like billions of stars, and I even thought for a moment, "Does Africa have more stars than America?" I was breathless as I observed the vast greatness of our universe. Standing there I thought about the advancement of the US, I thought about the big great cities, the electricity and power, and light we can afford to produce. And then I realized that in all of this accomplishment, humanity has muted a great accomplishment of our God. I think it was the first time in my life that I was able to see the night sky masterpiece.
And I think this must be what it is all about... Not forgetting to look up into the sky or around the room of children or out onto the great land.
