Skip to main content

A story of a lake, a swamp, a cow, and a "knight in shining armour".

Today we were on our way to Lake Catu to swim. We being: Julie, Avis, Denise and yours truly. It was Julie's birthday and this was her chosen activity for the day (the helicopter-ride turned out to be way too expensive). So there we were strolling along through low bushes on a sandy trail, when suddenly we get to a swampy, muddy bit, which we have to cross. Not feeling too thrilled by the prospect of wading through muddy water, especially not knowing what could be in it, I cautiously stepped in. Bad idea. My slow pace made my flip-flop get stuck in the mud, and I was now faced with a dilemma. Either abandoning my flip-flop and getting quickly out of the mud, or enduring the mud-river and digging my flip-flop out of it (having to find it first, as the water/mud was dark and my flip-flop buried under it). Seeing as my flip-flops are original Havaianas, I decided to stop to dig it out. Stood there, vocally disgusted by the mud and searching for my flip-flop, a young chap came over to see if I needed help. He even offered to carry me over the swamp bit, to which I replied that I was fine, but thank you. He continued to be a real gentleman to us though, as he walked ahead and held branches for us so we didn't have to have quite as much of a jungle experience.

Almost at the lake we suddenly hear a scream and Denise running back at us. Julie's dog had come back frightened, and after Denise had caught a glance of some cow-legs in the bushes, she backed up startled at the prospect of meeting a big, angry cow. Yet again our "knight in shining armour" or perhaps an angel (?) came to our rescue, and bravely went ahead of us shooing away what turned out to be a young calf which seemed quite peaceful once we got a better look at it. Having successfully got through all the obstacles in our path, we had a lovely time swimming in the lake, and thankfully no-one got eaten by the piranhas which allegedly live there.

It was an adventurous day, and the polite young chap gave me renewed faith in that there are still decent people in this world.

Popular posts from this blog

Getting to know the local culture.

Life is a strange thing. Last week went…not much happened, and then it was over. The weekend was quite calm without too many wild and exciting things happening. Except, of course, a wee outing to watch the National Championship for Veteran Ploughing. Now, like me, you might be sadly lacking an understanding of what this actually means. So I am delighted to be able to enlighten you in this respect. It’s basically (for the “farm-language-illiterate” like myself) a competition where you use old (hence the name “veteran”) tractors and ploughs, and plough up a stretch of field which is then evaluated and the one scoring the highest sum (accuracy, depth, how well the soil is turned is all given points) wins. I must admit that this information I got by eavesdropping on a conversation next to me where a man was explaining to some of my friends how it all works. So that was a fun adventure….although we only stayed for a bit. What is sort of occupying my mind at present is my upcoming travel abr...

Taking in the familiar and a heart connected.

Amsterdam. It still has that muggy feeling in Summer, and a constant flow of people which if you stop to think about it, it's quite amazing that there would even be space to accommodate them all. But then I guess they are not all staying. Just passing through on their way to or from somewhere. It's always good for the heart to visit somewhere that was once home. The familiarity of streets and customs makes it easier to embrace what might be new as well as the joy of being reacquainted with old friends. Friends. So many of them to be found in this city, ready with hugs and good words that are uttered when seeing someone who was away again. Friendship. A treasure that cannot be bought. Cobblestones trodden by many, including myself. Sitting on a bench. Praying. Remembering the first time I stumbled upon this area lined with windows with red lights and curtains. An area which has come to represent no longer windows, but people to me. Some still behind a window. Others who have ...

Tuesday children's prayer | Handing out shoes and feeding toddlers.

No day is the same here. After getting up early (which seems to be what I do here), and eating breakfast which was bread with butter (accompanied by an amazing cup of coffee given me by an American friend), I headed to the prayer room for children's prayer. This is a prayer time where the children come voluntarily to pray before school on Tuesdays and Fridays. Entering the room I was so impressed by how it was full of children eager to pray. There were probably 60 or 70 children there, and it was amazing to see one after the other choose to pray for their families and people who are sick, and other subjects on their little hearts. It was so great and an experience that I will carry with me for a long time. After prayer it was "Shoprite" time, which meant piling into a bus with other visitors and missionaries for the weekly shopping trip. I didn't quite know what to expect, but I had a few items to buy and hoped it would be a stress-free experience. As we drove along ...