An Unexpected (Jungle) Adventure

     Two weeks ago our NILI group left  the seminary campus in Quito and headed down out of the Andes Mountains East into the Amazon Jungle. It was to be our last trip of the semester...  Little did we know it would also be the most surprising and adventurous of all!
     This was the trip into the jungle that Ian had accompanied NILI on last semester, and this semester I (Hillary) had the privilege of going to help. Me, Jen, Lucy, our four traditional NILI students, our NILI professional family, and our Latina guest Andrea all packed into the Sprinter Friday (4/5) and traveled to Riobamba, a town still in the Sierra just over three hours South of Quito. That night we tried "chanco," a very popular local dish, which is basically meat from an an entire pig, baked whole. After we overcame our timidity at the sight of it, we dug in -- and it was absolutely delicious!

Trying "chanco."

Where we bought our dish.

     On Saturday, we drove to the base of Mount Chimborazo, an inactive, snow-capped volcano, which Ecuador boasts as it's tallest mountain. It's summit (20,564 ft) is actually the farthest point on the Earth's surface from the Earth's center. Our goal was to climb from the first refuge to the second on the mountain (not a great distance but at that altitude, still quite the hike!). Because we were up so high, it was difficult to breath and everything we carried seemed to weigh much more than usual. It was a great challenge, but the views along the way were breathtaking.

At the first refuge, getting ready to start our hike.

Beginning the ascent.

Enjoying the beauty.

Stopping for a quick break.

At the second refuge! (And the snow line.)

     Saturday evening we participated in a youth service at the Riobamba Church of the Nazarene, and Sunday morning we attended worship with that same congregation. It was a blessing to be able to participate in the life of our director's, Lucy's, home church.
     After service, our group left Riobamba for the jungle, making a quick pit stop in Baños along the way for some water fall sight seeing and hiking. The first waterfall was "Manto de la Novia" (Bride's Veil), a beautiful double cascade, which we saw from the distance and up close by taking a "tarabita" (cable car) across the valley. Then we hiked down to a huge waterfall called "El Pailón del Diablo" (the Devil's Cauldron). The sound of the water crashing down into a pool below was almost deafening it was so powerful.

"Manto de la Novia" Waterfall (with the cable car line on the left).

After hiking to the second waterfall.

At "El Pailón del Diablo" waterfall.

A view of the cascade from the distance.

      Monday through Wednesday we stayed in Shell, border town to the jungle and home of the Nate Saint house, which was the base for Jim Elliot's, Nate Saint's, and their three missionary partners' "Operation Auca" in the 1950's. Monday morning was our day to fly into the jungle to meet members of the Waorani tribe: the people responsible for martyring these five missionaries but who ultimately came to know the Lord through the continued evangelism efforts of the five widows/their families.
     We took a small, four-seat airplane to fly about 20 minutes into the jungle, and when the plane landed in the clearing on a little grass landing strip, we were immediately greeted by the entire community who had come out to welcome us. Members of the tribe took us up to their church, where several people (including Dewu, the oldest member of the community) shared their testimonies of how God had changed their lives -- though they were once a very violent people, now that they know God, they live in peace. (In truth, the Waorani were some of the most joyful people I have ever met! Every sentence was accompanied with a smile -- and usually also with a giggle or laugh.) Dewu read several verses from his Waorani New Testament and then we sang "I Have Decided to Follow Jesus" together. It was a very special time.
     I also had the chance to sit down with Dewu and talk with him (through an interpreter from Waorani to Spanish) for a few minutes. With pride, he told me about how they were widening the landing strip for bigger planes. The landing strip seemed to be the community's greatest pride, and it was telling how he measured time by "before the landing strip" and "after the landing strip."

Being welcomed by the community after landing.

A view from the landing strip.

Inside the church.

NILIs and our brothers and sisters from the Waorani tribe.

Me and Dewu, oldest member of the community and leader of their church.

     After about an hour and a half with our new friends, we headed back to the radio room (the only form of communication with the outside world). We were told that a pilot would be coming to fly the five of us out then, but we waited... and about three hours later still no plane had come. It had rained heavily earlier so we thought perhaps this had delayed our flight, and then we heard that the airport was closed due to bad weather in Shell. At dusk we finally heard the faint sound of a plane fly in, circle twice, and then fly out again. (We found out later that a pilot had tried to come and get us but was unable to land due to fog and a wet landing strip.) And at that point, because it was rapidly getting dark, we knew we'd be spending the night in the jungle.
     Mincayai, a dear women who was both nurse and radio operator for the community, invited us into her home to stay. Actually even before it was completely dark, she'd offered her home to us. Earlier she'd carried a dead chicken to the radio room and said "Here's dinner if we need it!". And so we ended up having a great chicken and rice dinner that night. We ate by candle light since there was no electricity, and there were no bathrooms -- just a covered hole in the ground outside. But we had good food, beds with mosquito nets, and great company. We had all we needed for the night.

The soggy landing strip (with the community's school in the background).

Waiting outside the radio room.

Candle light dinner in Mincayai's home.

The five of us with Mincayai (in the morning after breakfast).

     The entire Waorani community was so gracious to us while we were with them. Several people waited with us at the radio room the whole time that we were there (over four hours in total); they never left us. And Mincayai took us right into her home as if we were family, giving up her bed even so that we would all have a place to sleep. We were so grateful for their kindness and hospitality. Truly, the Lord had protected us and provided for us in a huge way.
     Around nine the next morning, after a breakfast of "maduros" (fried bananas), we walked out to the landing strip and were met by our pilot and plane. It was hard to say goodbye, knowing we may not ever see these friends in this life again, but we were so thankful for the time we'd had together.
     The rest of our time in Shell, our group enjoyed going white water rafting down the River Puyo and going on a jungle hike -- so there were still lots more adventures in store! We even managed to fall out of our boat while rafting and get attacked by wasps on our hike (it was pretty exciting!).

Our white water rafting crew.

Before going on the jungle hike (in our rubber boots).

Stopping for a jungle "spa" (river mud exfoliate)!

The beautiful waterfall at the end of our hike.

      After our jungle hike, we spent the afternoon in a Quechua / Shuar village, where we had fresh fish (steamed over the fire in banana leaves) for lunch and practiced our blow gun shooting skills.

The Quechua / Shuar village where we spent our afternoon.

Fresh fish for lunch (under the watchful eye of a pet parrot).

Practicing with the blow gun.

     Before we left Shell, we also were able to visit the Nate Saint House. It was meaningful to be able to look out the kitchen window at the airstrip (now the small airport in Shell), to stand in the radio room, and to imagine what must have taken place in those rooms.

Visiting the Nate Saint House in Shell.

In the radio room.

The radio used to communicate with pilots and other mission stations throughout the jungle.

The New Testament in Waorani.

    Overall, the trip was a great adventure in more ways than one. It was a wonderful combination of fun and extreme sports and visiting Shell and remembering the mission of the five missionaries and their families. In it all, God protected and provided -- for which we were so thankful! It truly was a trip of the lifetime.

Semana Santa (Holy Week)

Those of us who have seen the symbol on car bumpers and key chains know that a fish can represent Jesus, but did you know that things like corn, beans, and melons could represent Jesus' 12 apostles?  That's one of the interesting tidbits you learn when you celebrate Holy Week in Ecuador...

...which we did, just a couple weeks ago.  In fact, we just celebrated our second Holy Week in Ecuador, since we had taken our initial visit to Hillary's sister last year at this same time.  This time around, however, we celebrated in a much more Ecuadorian style...


...by making fanesca! the traditional 12-grain/fish soup painstakingly prepared and (sometimes dutifully) consumed by Ecuadorian families every year during Holy Week.

Our NILI Director, Lucy, shows our group what we need to do to prepare the ingredients for the fanesca.  Look at all of those ingredients!

Hillary and Ian shuck the thin casings off of hundreds of beans called avas (somewhat like our lima beans) to prepare them for use in the fanesca, while one of the girls from our NILI Professional family makes faces behind us. :-)

Hillary stands next to the massive cauldron we used to make the fanesca.  (And by "we," I mean the kind ladies from our church who actually knew what they were doing.) 

The finished product, topped with hard-boiled eggs, a sprig of cilantro, a couple of sticks of mozzarella cheese, and served alongside fried bananas (maduros), fried dough balls stuffed with cheese, and a fried cheese empanada.  Graciously, the dried (and quite pungent) fish was served on the side, to be added to the soup if so desired.

We also commemorated Holy Week by attending the "parade" (don't think floats; think slow, somber march of penance) called Jesús del Gran Poder (Jesus of Great Power).  This gloomy Good Friday (they call it Holy Friday here) ceremony looks, to the typical North America observer, like a Ku Klux Klan meeting gone wrong, but is, in fact, an opportunity for men and women (sometimes even children) to demonstrate remorse for sin through a difficult, sometimes grueling, march of physical castigation.

Don't fear!  These are just the cucuruchos, those who march in the parade.  They've inherited their KKK-looking garb from Spain, where this procession originated.  The garb signifies anonymity and self-denial, though we're not sure on its exact origins.

 

The hoods--most of which only have slits for the eyes, not the nose or mouth--are claustrophobic, especially with the sun beating down on their dark-colored robes in the middle of the day.

Many carry full-size crosses, some even heavier than these, recalling Jesus' march to Calvary.

Others put heavy crossbeams across their shoulders.

Many go barefooted on the hot pavement of the streets of Quito.

This man has written a message to God across his chest, asking for forgiveness, as he carries a crossbeam with a nasty herb attached to it that causes skin irritation.

Some put manacles around their ankles and carry the chains with them on their march through the city streets.

This man has both barbed wire around his waist and a crossbeam covered in that skin-irritating herb on his shoulders.

Even the very young participate.

It wasn't a gloomy weekend for us, though, despite the cucuruchos.  We celebrated the Triumphal Entry of Jesus at the beginning of Holy Week and his resurrection on Easter Sunday!

A procession of worshipers marched down the aisle of the church shouting "Hosanna!  Praise be to the Son of David!" on Palm Sunday at our church in Carcelén.

The worshipers were followed in by "Jesus," played by one of the young boys in the church, riding in on the back of a donkey (or the backs of two of his buddies dressed up like a donkey, at least).

NILI friends gathered outside the Carcelén church on Easter Sunday.

This is how we celebrate the Risen Lord Jesus on Easter Sunday in Quito!  The lyrics of the chorus say, Christ is not dead.  He's alive!  I feel it in my hands.  I feel it in my feet.  I feel it in all of my being!

We even made a good ol' pot roast, just like mom used to make it, for Easter Dinner!

It was a special treat to celebrate all of the festivities of Holy Week with the church here in Quito, Ecuador.  There is no greater time of the year to be a Christian, and we felt honored to celebrate alongside brothers and sisters who knew well in their hearts and minds the hope we have in Christ because of his death and resurrection.  We hope it was a blessed Holy Week for you, our beloved friends and family back home.  The body of Christ is united around the world to declare that He is alive and His Spirit is with us!