Miss Anne's Jungle Update - 9/23/06

So, I told you about this letter a while back, but now I have permission to share it with you. I won't put quite the entirety of it here, but plenty for you to get a feel for her ministry. The emphasis is mine.

Dear Family,

It is so wretchedly hot and humid that I can’t imagine doing anything that would require the exertion of energy. I’m absolutely soaking wet from perspiration, and it’s been a long time since I needed a sheet to cover up with at night. At one point today, the humidity was higher than the temperature. Even Icabi, the Amazon parrot, is minding the heat. She has her wings spread out trying to catch a cool breeze. She loves getting a cold shower.

Anyhow, since I know that I should be doing something, don’t feel like doing anything, but don’t want to have a guilty conscience at the end of the day for having not used the afternoon to the fullest, I’ll try to get a letter off to you.

The end of the school year outing, which was just an idea when I last wrote, did take place. Oh what a delightful day it was! One of the mothers, Selita, cooked the chicken and brown beans here at my house the afternoon before. (From experience, it is known that some of the chicken and beans would have gone into the family cooking pot, if the cooking had been done elsewhere.) Jenny, another mother, cooked rice early the morning of the outing and I baked cakes in the wee camp oven. Then there was the igloo with plenty of drinking water. Everyone took their own Frisbee looking plastic plate, plastic cup and aluminum soup size spoon.

The Olangi Creek was quite overgrown which made for a slow, cautious trip so as not to damage the 30 horsepower motor or canoe. The Wiawia plantation was nothing but jungle making flip flops not the appropriate footwear. I have a cute picture of a bunch of kids with their arms and heads down an iguana hole with their posteriors up in the air. We came home with three iguanas. One iguana was probably quite delighted not to get caught even if he did loose his tail in the tug-of-war. One iguana was shot out of an overhanging tree limb as we navigated down the creek. It fell right on top of my head with blood splattering all over Boemboem (age 8) and me. We really didn’t mind, knowing how yummy supper was going to be.

That was a Saturday. The next Saturday Killit came from the capital city, Paramaribo, to give the house and clinic a termite treatment. Four men slept under the house in Moengo the night before so as to get a good start the next day. Jonathan and Orlando, a national from the village of Ricanau Moffo, had the men here by 8:00 AM. The men worked till after 3:00 PM pouring or squirting poison into trenches dug around the buildings, and drilled holes in the cement floor and walls. They brought their own cook while I cooked for Jonathan, MK Nathanael, Orlando, Desi and myself. I prepared chicken and sauerkraut with dumplings to eat over rice. There was chocolate cake with chocolate icing for everyone.

Wood worms have invaded the ceiling just over the kitchen table. More times a day than I can count, I have to brush the wood shavings off the table. Now adult worms are dropping onto the table and into the plate of food! Not my favorite source of protein. It was suggested that a strip of wood where the shavings and worms are falling from be removed. Desi right away said, “We can’t do that. We’ll have bat dirt all over the table and landing in the food.” Oh dear! I guess worms are better than bat dirt!

The past month has been filled with five Poeroe Blaka celebrations (end of mourning restrictions), two Siksi Wiki celebrations (six weeks after burial) and one Aiti Dei celebration (eight days after burial) in various river villages. All these celebrations include all night dancing which is very provocative even if no words are sung. It's like pantomime dancing and disgustingly wicked. If the person was baptized (catholic), there is a service around 8:00 PM, for about an hour. Then for the rest of the night there is dancing which reaches orgy proportion. Food is also cooked and presented to the spirit of the dead one being honored.

It brought sorrow to my heart to see grains of tenderness to spiritual matters trampled (as the result of these celebrations) in a number of individuals with whom I have dealt with in recent months. We certainly "…wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places" (Ephesians 6:12).

The Christians face so much pressure. Not only when there is a celebration, but every day. In this culture, there is acceptable lying, stealing, dishonesty, fornication, adultery, etc. The unrestrained indulgence in alcohol, drugs and sexual practices are rooted in the worship of the ancestors. It seems that the Christians do not recognize and hate sin as they should because of being raised in such an environment and being exposed to behavior that is considered normal and expected.

Evangelist Koempi’s son-in-law, Ronny, passed away after a battle with lung cancer. Ronny’s family is unsaved and has demanded that all the doings associated with death be done the heathen way. Koempi’s family needs God’s grace at this time to conduct themselves as God would have them to.


This epistle has become rather long and yet much has been left unwritten. There have been machete fights, cursing and slandering of each other and one mother split her adult son’s forehead open when she threw a broken radio at him in a fit of anger. All such behavior is the result of sin and disobedience to God.

I am amazed that God would count me worthy to live and serve among such despicable heathenism. What's more, He has preserved me these almost twenty-six years and given me the honor of being His Shepherdess to this needy flock.
...

"God's great movements in this world have been conditioned on, continued by,
and fashioned by prayer." E.M. Bounds


Love
Anne/Auntie Anne

PS. The Lantiwee/Pinatjarimi band is to perform at tonight’s shindig in the village of Langahoekoe. The band boys just came by to say good-bye, endure a word of admonition from Ma Anna, (that’s me), play a few minutes with the parrot and collect their drums. They have just left in the canoe, beating the drums and singing.