Afloat

Juan knows that to get to the training meeting will take some work. But he’s not afraid of hard work; everyday is another episode of living “by the sweat of the brow.” The location of the meeting is far from home, but fortunately it’s downstream, the water can take him there. Yet the water can ONLY take him TO the meeting, it can’t bring him home again. He will have to travel the old-fashioned way, the way everyone does it when there is no boat, no motor, or when funds for gasoline are tight or don’t exist.
So Juan gathers his axe and follows a trail that takes him parallel to the river, snaking now away from the sheer drop of the riverbank, now toward, until he comes to the spot he had scouted out yesterday. Here there are several balsa trees of just the right girth. The unique wood of the balsa is light, airy, and floats like nothing else in the jungle; the ideal material for a raft. One of these trees will become Juan’s vehicle to carry him down the Chinchihuani (chin-chee-WAH-nee) River and later down the Apurucayali (Ah-pooh-rooh-cah-YAH-lee) River to the settlement of Yarina Isla.
In short order Juan has laid the tree over onto the moist forest floor and has gotten to work trimming away the branches and the bark. He then cuts the trunk into several eight-foot long pieces that will later be lashed together to form his raft. The wood is lighter than most so he is able to single-handedly slide the logs over the edge of the steep riverbank until they come to a grinding halt in the mud alongside the flowing water. He then cuts a number of pegs that will be used as he ties the logs together, and he peels a thin flexible bark from another tree to serve as rope to lash all the parts together. With all the right materials now in hand, Juan himself slips down the soggy embankment to the level of the river and starts to work with axe and machete to prepare his mobility.
Now Juan has lashed logs together and he has fashioned a bench on which to sit and place his backpack in order to keep everything dry. The waters of the Chinchihuani run pretty fast and dangerous in some spots so Juan has ensured that his work is strong and ready. He will leave at first light.
It’s a cool morning, but it promises to be a crystal-clear day. Juan rose before daylight and finished rebuilding the door of the chicken coup. It was broken as he struggled to kill a manco, a weasel-like animal that loves to steal chickens. He then sat with his flashlight in the dark dawn and read a passage of scripture, one that he often returned to when he was about to leave his family behind. He prays for the Lord’s protection for them and that he would learn from the meetings; learn so that he could be a better servant of his Master as he leads the small San Luis church; and leader of his family as they often feel like they are all alone in the faith.

Now at the riverside Juan’s oldest son Israel unties the raft from a small tree. Juan gives a few final instructions to his children and embraces his wife. He stacks his pack in its place along with a stalk of freshly cut green bananas, his food contribution for the meeting. Adela hands him a small bag with a large piece of smoked sajino (a wild pig); this will be lunch and dinner. With no further words, Juan grabs his steering pole and shoves off from the bank. Adela and the children quietly look on as they silently pray. In a few minutes Juan and his raft, in the same silence, drift slowly around the turn of the river and he is seen no more.
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When we only see Juan walk up from the river at the location of the training meeting, it’s easy to take for granted his efforts to arrive. For most coming from remote regions to a central gathering place, it’s no small undertaking. No cars, no public transportation. Just hard work, crops and animals left unattended, dangers in the currents, and the ever-present family separation which we ourselves know too well. Love drives a man or a woman to go to lengths. For Juan and others like him it’s his love for his Lord.
To what lengths am I willing to go to feast at my Master’s table?
Photo:  sajino on balsa raft;  Juan and his son Israel