Over the river and through the woods

Better late than never! Happy Mother's Day, Moms!

Over the river and through the woods for a mothers day call we go! Yes, this was the incredibly annoying song stuck in my head all the way through the three hour long adventure needed to make a simple Mother’s Day phone call from this remote village in which we are working. The morning got going early as I dipped my toe into swiftly-moving, seemingly frigid (at that time) waters of the Nam Ou River at 5:30 am and psyched myself up for the 50 meter swim to the other side. An early morning fisherman got a good laugh at what must have been a strange sight of me bent over, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath after reaching it. Man, I am out of shape!

But my trek had just begun and this experience of breathlessness was by far not the worst I was going to feel today. The trail I started climbing was straight up! I had done this once before with Brooke, but that was before rainy season, and this time it was completely different. Slides of mud penetrated the bamboo forest and every two steps up sent me at least one step (sometimes five) back down the slope from which I a came. I spent as much time on my hands on this trail as I did on my feet, grasping at whatever rock, root, or tree I could find. Sometimes they held, sometimes they sadly did not. Man, I am out of shape!

Regardless, I continued determined not to stop (going backwards doesn’t count) and although my breathing was as heavy as I can remember, I took comfort in the thought that the loudness of it would scare off any snakes or foot long centipedes, like I had just seen the day before at the project site and still was fresh in my memory. When I finally reached the top I was greeted with my first view of the river valley and it left me breathless for another reason. The morning mist had dropped down to the river leaving the adjacent peaks floating on a white feather bed. Gorgeous! On our previous trip to make a phone call we trekked all this way to find our cell phone still did not have service here, so this time I borrowed our host mother’s phone, which of course is all in Lao. I first found this to be a problem as I searched for the camera feature to show the view my words could not do justice- an attempt in which I failed, and then more importantly when I tried to add credit to her phone, again with all the instructions in Lao. As if this was not hard enough, when I took out the lottery style scratch-off, top-up card, I realized I am on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere and I have no coins (there are no coins in the Lao monetary system), no bottle caps, no knife, and I just cut my nails yesterday. Rubbing way too hard to make up for my lack of a thumbnail, I ended up putting a hole through one of the numbers. Not good! But at least for now luck was on my side, and I guessed the number on the second try as I topped up the phone using the same procedure I did in Thailand. Whew!! Glad that worked! “Over the mountain and through the woods….”

6:45am my time is 7:45pm back in the States and my call to my parent’s house left me leaving a 30 second message and using up 2,000 out of my 10,000 credit I put on the phone. Confident that a call to my mother’s cell phone would surely reach her, I looked through our phones contact list where I found that not only were my parent’s cell numbers not there, but Brooke’s parents’ numbers were not listed either. The thought that, “Brooke is going to kill me!” was the first thing to knock the “Over the River” song out of my head! I had one hope and that was my sister (I think I remember her number). She could call my mom who I think has Brooke’s mom’s number. But when I tried, another answering machine! Damn it! Another 2000 kip of credit gone! Now at one point in my life, before calculators, computers, and cell phone contact lists, I was actually pretty good with numbers. Maybe, just maybe, I can remember Brooke’s mom’s number. I don’t know if it was the fresh mountain air and breathtaking view that was providing the clarity in my head, or it was the fear of what may happen if I broke my promise to Brooke to wish her mother a happy mother’s day, but I was pretty sure I had the right number. Confidently I typed it in, and wouldn’t you know it, I was completely wrong. An old man answered and no matter how much I tried to pretend, it was not Brooke’s mom. He was nice though, and seemed happy when I wished him a Happy Mother’s Day. Another 2,000 kip gone.

The thought that I should not return to the village and stay “over the mountain and through the woods” put the song back in my head. Maybe, just maybe should the 249 that I just dialed be a 247? Tim, Brooke’s father, picked up on the second ring! They called me back and moments later Brooke’s mom was listening to her Happy Mother’s Day song sent from her daughter in the small village in Northern Laos on the other side of the world, through her soon to be son-in-law. Although the voices were often cut off, the message was clear. We are happy with what we are doing, but we miss our moms.

Not only was I able to talk to Brooke’s mom on her special day, but she was able to call my mother and after a little waiting and wondering, the phone rang, and I was able to sing her a live version of Happy Mother’s Day as well. Finishing the call and again gazing at the spectacular view, I thought to myself as I often do, “Man, life is good!” And I even had 2,000 kip of credit left to call and wake up Jan from Bamboo School and let him know about the materials we needed.

That call also went well and before I knew it, I was taking my last look at the cloud covered valley and starting my next adventure: the hike “Down the crazy mountain and through the woods….” I say (or sing) “hike” down, but this method of travel in no way resembled any hiking I have ever done. What I was doing was more a mix between alpine skiing, slip-and-sliding, and circus trapezeing (add that word to your dictionary). If that is hard to imagine, let me explain. The hill was so steep and slippery it made walking completely impossible. So, I found it much “easier” to swing from tree to tree, hoping with each grab the tree or limb would hold, slow me down a little, and direct me to the next tree. When there were no trees or the terrain was particularly steep, I slid down trying to stay on my feet, but often ending on my butt. At one junction I was sliding way too fast to stop and had to jump over a gully in mid slide only to continue skiing down the other side without a moments break in the action. When I finally came to a stop 20 meters lower, I did one of those slow looks around, hoping someone else was there and clarify my next thought, “Did that really just happen?”

When I reached the bottom, (in one-third the time it took me to go up) I was either cut or bruised on almost every body part. It was awesome!! I can definitely see this turning into a popular X-sport called eXtreme mountain running (or something like that)! You know, it is good to have options if this whole non-profit thing doesn’t work out.

My swim back across the river was actually way more frightening than the trip down the mountain. Man, I am out of shape! But again it was nice to provide entertainment for those on the shore as I bent over gasping for oxygen. By the time I reached Brooke she had finished the meeting we were to have with the community and was hard at work pouring the cement for our new sink’s legs. I only laughed when she asked me, “What took you so long?”

Hope you had an incredible Mother's Day, Moms!