After having had precious few hours of sleep on Sunday night, I was very much hoping for a good, solid night of refreshing slumber. Unfortunately, Monday night (the 25th) the rains came harder than ever and we heard the constant splash of raindrops on our tent. Then we felt them. Sleeping bags and everything around the edges were getting soaked. Ben’s sleeping bag was the worst. During the night he and Doug rearranged so Ben could use part of Doug’s sleeping bag as well. I kept pulling Jeremiah closer to me to avoid his sleeping bag getting soaked as well but it didn’t work. He’s a squirmer and ended up against the edge where the water soaked through. Shoes, suitcases, clothes, and pillows as well were all somewhere between damp and dripping by daybreak. Clouds hung low all around us when we crawled out of the tent. It was a beautiful sight with the fog settled in the valleys, but we knew it wouldn’t make Markus eager to fly. Doug tried to reach Markus by satellite phone several times to find out if we should be packing up. Finally he got through to Jakob, only to get news that the weather in Tana was bad and the forecast was not optimistic so there was no chance of a flight that day.

At first it felt like betrayal, like they were letting us down so unjustly. But what other choice did they have? So we would have to make the best of it and hope that, A). our food supply was sufficient for the day, and B). the weather would clear by tomorrow. It seems miraculous in retrospect that none of us were more disturbed or distressed by the delayed departure. Somehow we were all able to look at the day as an extra bonus, albeit one we didn’t want to receive too abundantly. One day would be sufficient, thank you. It was also amazing that the food we had packed turned out to be just right; not too much and not too little. A good reminder of, “So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ “ (Matthew 6:31) It was also amazing, considering the little amount of sleep I was getting every night, that I wasn’t more exhausted or experiencing headaches that would be typical for me under those circumstances. “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13)

Doug was eager to get the work crews going again, but the swollen rivers from a night’s heavy rains kept many of the workers on the other side of those rivers. They had also arranged with Markus earlier that before heading back to Tana that day, he would make several short helicopter trips from the lumberjack work sites to carry cut beams down to the village. The men were getting worn out from carrying the beams down the mountain and it was suggested a few helicopter runs could save them indefinite hours of trudging back and forth. So it was all arranged that ropes and extra help would be brought along while local crews cleared a landing site on the mountainside. For several days the lumberjacks had been working hard to get as many beams ready as possible (see picture) to take full advantage of the helicopter coming. Everyone was disappointed as word spread that it wouldn’t happen that day. Doug sent work crews up the mountain, though, to make sure all was ready in hopes that the helicopter would come the following day.

In the meantime, we decided to call all children for a time of singing and Bible lessons. Weather kept most of the children home but we had a good handful of kids for a re-enactment of the story of Shadrack, Meshach, and Abednego. The kids had fun listening to Doug attempt to pronounce those names in Malagasy, and all the kids had parts to play.  We purposely picked this story because of the commitment of those three godly men to worship the one true God and not bow down to idols. We hope and pray that this, along with many other Bible lessons they’re hearing these days, will make a difference in the decisions they make about worshiping ancestors and praying to idols. We had received a gift of books with Bible stories from a church in America and we brought along one copy of each, which we left with the Sunday School and public elementary school teachers to use in both places. We covet your prayers as well, that there will be a wonderful result from all the work that is being done in Manakana, not just the rebuilding of houses, but the renewing of hearts as well.

After the Bible lesson, we served popcorn we had brought with us and popped. From what we could tell, it was the first time for most, if not all, that they had experienced popcorn. One young woman in the village, who had grown up in Manakana and studied elsewhere before returning to teach at the school, estimated that at least 70% of the people there have never and will never go beyond Manakana and its surrounding hills. That means there is a lot of “modern” life they know nothing about; like electricity, telephones, running water, computers, cars, etc. etc. It deepened my realization of how far Madagascar still has to go on its road to becoming a developed nation. Manakana is just one of many similar, very remote villages. And it reinforced for me as well, the complexity and variety of poverty. I meet people in Tana and think they’re poor. Compared to Manakana, those “poor” are not so poor. Yet all of them suffer. Some suffer more because they’ve had or seen better and expect more. Some suffer with no hope of change. Reflecting on the extent of the poverty is when I feel overwhelmed and unable to do enough. Again, that contrast strikes a resonant chord and I wonder about the injustice and what more needs to be done, especially in light of, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” (Luke 3:11)

Fortunately the rain stopped long enough on Tuesday for us to hang out our sleeping bags to dry. We were able to crawl into a relatively dry tent that night as we wondered about the sleeping situations for the many around us. That was something we had not found out. We hoped and prayed the weather would clear to allow us to get home the next day. The experience had definitely been worth doing, but we were ready to get home to dry beds and hot showers. At one point during the night I woke up rather panicky and claustrophobic feeling, worried that it might be days before we could go. Every time I tried to pray that the rain would stop, it seemed to come down heavier. “Great answers to prayer, thank you Lord,” I mumbled. Doug woke up from my twisting and turning. He prayed for peace for me to be able to sleep and enough of a break in the rain that we could get home safely the next day. After that I slept soundly until morning. When Doug opened the tent he found patches of clear sky; a very hopeful sign.

Doug called Jakob around 7 am and got word that Markus would be taking off by 7:30 so we should be packed by 9. I was still skeptical given the cloud cover but I started to organize our things. Doug was busy with meetings of workers so the boys and I worked on getting everything packed up. I kept wondering though if we’d be unpacking it all again before nightfall. Markus had told us about one trip when he had taken off from Tana, hit thunderstorms, and had to sit out the storm on the ground until the next day. So I knew that his departure from Tana was no sure sign he would make it. By 9:00 we had still seen no sign of him and I was starting to worry.

As I continued to organize our things, we suddenly heard a bunch of hub-bub from somewhere down in the village. They must’ve spotted the helicopter. We rushed outside. No, it was clearly not that. People were running towards the school. Soon word reached us that all the rice which had been stored in our neighboring tent had been stolen during the night. Suddenly we had a mystery on our hands and an interesting diversion from worrying about the helicopter.

Townspeople went from house to house searching for it. There weren’t many houses to search so it shouldn’t take too long. Sure enough. It wasn’t 15 minutes before word came back that they were convinced it was in somebody’s house because he had refused to allow them entry and then he had run into the forest. Plans were discussed to guard that house every night until they could get police over from a neighboring town to force him to open it up for a search. That proved unnecessary though when that man’s wife took matters into her own hands and threw the bags of rice out of her door. “I had nothing to do with this,” she claimed, “and to prove it, I’m giving you all the rice my husband stole.” In addition to the gunnysack and a half that had been there the night before, there was an additional half bag that they thought had disappeared earlier in the week but no one had been sure. The most disappointing part of this story is that the thief turned out to be the government representative sent to the village to oversee the distribution of the rice and verify the integrity of its distribution. He had passed by the church at 10 the previous night, according to the men who were taking their turns as guards in the church. He said he was just checking to make sure everything was alright. Alright for him, that was!

The little mystery drama wrapped up just before we heard sounds coming out of the opposite sky of where we expected the helicopter. We ran to peer into the clouds. There it was, flying right for us and then continuing on to the soccer field. We all cheered and passed out gear to be carried to the field. “We’re going home,” I kept saying, feeling very much like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. Unless, of course, the weather was too bad to take off again. Fortunately Markus was optimistic when we reached him so we packed all our things into the cubby holes of the helicopter. He still had to go to a neighboring town for fuel so Doug and I rushed back to the church to brief the new people who had just arrived about all the details we could squish into the short time we would have. Jeremiah rode with Markus in the front seat, complete with microphone and a great sense of importance, to get the fuel. When I heard the helicopter return about 15 minutes later, I informed Doug we absolutely had to leave right away. I headed down the path and pulled out two of our sleeping bags from the helicopter to leave with the new group. Before leaving Tana, they had been told there were already enough sleeping bags there, but in reality there were 3 sleeping bags and 5 of them. They had also understood a plane would be flying out their suitcases and food to the neighboring town and the helicopter would shuttle it over that day. That plan had changed however and the plane wouldn’t arrive until the next day when they would have to carry it the two hours over from that village. The new group was shocked. They had no change of clothes and not much food with them. Loaning them our two sleeping bags was the least we could do! I briefly considered trying to find them some clothes as well but quickly ruled that out when I remembered that everything we hadn’t already given away was pretty damp, dirty, or wouldn’t fit.

With the boys already loaded in and still no Doug on the way, Markus was getting impatient. “We’ve got to get out of here immediately,” he said, “or we won’t make it.” I told him I knew Doug was concerned about passing on all the details of what needed to be done to the next team but that I had insisted he come right away. “He has to choose then to either go now or wait until I come back in a week.” I’m sure my panic was obvious on my face. “Let’s buckle in and fly up to the village to get him then,” Markus suggested. We buckled in and fastened the doors. Just when all the systems were ready to go, Doug came running down the path so we waited and he hopped aboard. Whew!! Waving goodbye to so many familiar faces was bittersweet. I knew I would miss them and this incredible place, but was eternally grateful for the privilege of having been there.

I learned on the ride home (I was sitting in the front this time and could ask Markus all kinds of questions) that Markus had had to set down the helicopter for an hour on the trip to Manakana and he had almost decided to turn around and give up the trip. Then he decided to try a round-about way to get there to avoid some of the clouds. It worked but took a lot longer. That explained the delay and his entrance from the opposite side of town. I, for one, was extremely grateful he had made it and was taking us back. All of us felt ready to get home, except maybe Jeremiah, who probably could’ve stayed on for another few weeks or more. But as is typical of Jeremiah, he’s happy to be home now, too, that we’re here.

Markus and I also talked on the way home about the challenges facing the process of development in Madagascar, the amount of ancestor worship that still exists, and the sad fact that many places in Madagascar have still not heard the name of Jesus. Markus shared the statistic that 80% of Antananarivo residents claim to be Christian, and 80% of Antananarivo residents participate in some form of ancestor worship. Yet, as he pointed out, we have large percentages in our own western cultures that blend our own brand of idol worship, in the form of materialism and consumerism, with our Christian faith. It seems just as challenging or more for those of us in that situation to abandon that form of idol worship as it is for the Malagasy people to give up theirs.

We hope to continue to follow the progress in Manakana. The helicopter flights to bring down the beams didn’t happen the day we flew out either because of the weather. A cyclone is working its way across Madagascar as I write so if it didn’t happen earlier this week, it might take awhile. We will try to follow up on that and more. Doug has left for Diego for meetings all week and into next week so the boys and I are spending their last days of vacation without him before they go back to school on Monday.

We had actually planned that all of us would go to Diego together, spend some time at the beach over New Year’s, and then Doug attend his meetings and I try to meet with women there too. Our original plan was to leave early Friday morning to start the two day drive. When we didn’t get back home until Wednesday afternoon, though, we started to reconsider. Especially given the news about a forthcoming cyclone, we felt it better to stay put and let Doug make this trip on his own. Instead we quickly shifted gears and made plans to leave Friday afternoon for a hotel only 2 ½ hours from here where we could relax over the weekend and feel like we had a little vacation as well. Doug then flew up to Diego Tuesday morning and will return by public bus next week.