Friday, March 31, 2006

The road less travelled Part Two

Synopsis of Carasburg: Jennie’s mom wasn’t feeling well so as soon as Jennie walked in the door she was put to work – serving dinner, washing dishes, cleaning the house, sweeping the floor, washing laundry…it was maybe a little like Cinderella. I felt bad for her, and I know she felt bad for me, because I sat around doing nothing for three days. We didn’t get to use the truck as we were promised and so therefore our side trip to Fish River was non-existent. By Tuesday we were both ready to go, and we caught a ride with her dad to Keetmans, where we had hoped we might get a car and still be able to take in Fish River, but as we realized this too was not going to be possible, the disappointments were piling up enough that we both just wanted to go home. And Rather than wait around till Thursday to have a ride back with the Dutch guys, we actually decided to take the train back again. Yes! Does this give you a little insight into our state of mind and how very much we just wanted to get home to our own house in Nau-Aib? So just a few short hours after arriving, we were grabbing out still-packed bags and loading into Juliet’s car so she could drop us at the train station. We said our goodbyes and settled back in for the all-night ride to Windhoek. Praise the Lord that this time the speakers actually worked, the volume was of normal human listening level, and the movies were actually almost watch-able. (We’re not talking Academy-award winning acting or anything, but at least the films this time had a little more depth than what you’d find on a Bubble gum wrapper.)

We arrived in Windhoek at 6:30am, tired, cold and hungry and with no idea how we were going to get home the rest of the way. We made some calls in the hopes that someone we knew would be making their way into the city and could take up home with them. No dice. As the city started to awaken a little, we decided to think about our situation over breakfast. Thankfully the train station is only a few blocks from Vern Hill Mall, which for me, means Mugg & Bean. A little breakfast helped a little, but I could tell that Jennie had had it. We got a call from Gerrianna saying she’d be in Windhoek and could take us home around 3pm. It was 9am when we got the call. Jennie and I looked at each other and it was clear neither of us really wanted to sit around Windhoek for another 6 hours. We opted just to take a taxi back – (thankfully no rain this time).

We arrived back at our house and it was such a sight for sore eyes. We unloaded our stuff and headed for the door. Upon reaching the front stoop, we immediately realized that our “adventure” of a road-trip wasn’t over yet. Here in Okahandja, every house has burglar bars. Windows, are all barred and the doors have gated bars in front that must be unlocked and opened to get to the actual door which is also locked and needs to be open before you can get in. Well, it was very evident that while we were gone, someone had decided to defy our burglar bars in an attempt to make themselves at home in our place, or at least help themselves to our stuff. Whoever it was apparently tried to pry the gate open using a crowbar or screwdriver or something that they put in trying to use leverage to pry open the gate. Praise the Lord the attempt failed!! The way the gate locks is basically a deadbolt style lock that you open with a skeleton key. They pried hard enough to actually bend the 4-inch long, ¾ inch think block of metal which serves as the deadbolt. But is was still unable to be opened. Which means, if it wasun-openable to them, so it was also for us. Sigh. So much for just coming home crashing. I think asthis point we both just began to laugh and asked each other, “What next?!” Jenny walked around the corner to enlists Buddy’s help and I stood guard with our bags on the front stoop. I got out my Bible and started to read. “Consider it pure joy, brothers, when you face trials of any kind. For we know that the testing of our faith produces perseverance…”

About 2hours later, Gert and Buddy armed with screwdrivers, hammers and a welding machine broke the rest of the way into our house, replaced the old bent lock with a new one (the one Buddy bought for his own gate when his house was broken into, but hadn’t yet installed) and re-welded the gate. (pictures yet to come of our now ghetto-ified looking gate).

Ah…it’s so good to be home.

1 comment:

Jamie Murphy said...

I'm awed once again how God chooses to work...especially with our attitudes to the "misadventures" within the journey.
but what a story to made me smile and remember some of my own struggles along the way