This week we made the six hour trek to the jungle to serve the people surrounding the village of Talamanca. One day of work stood out in particular. It started with a nice walk to the river, getting in a canoe, and crossing over to Panama. There we encountered José Antonio—the man we would be working with for the day. He picked some fresh oranges off his trees for us to eat while we waiting for everyone to get there. We had no idea what we were in for that day.
The men leading us told us it’d be about an hour hike to where we were working and they started chopping down branches with their machetes to use as walking sticks. We hiked through mud/manure up and down the hillside until José stopped. Then he started telling stories, drinking his passion fruit juice, and shouting monkey calls while another leader was explaining what we’d be doing—it was quite a scene.
We were told to split into two groups: one to harvest beans and one for cocoa/bananas. I volunteered for the bean crew with José and six of my best gals, which meant another hour hike through the thick of the jungle. At some points we were going downhill on jagged rocks; during others we were going uphill through calf deep mud. Falls were had. Chacos were almost lost in the thick mud. Machetes were pulled to make a path. We finally made it to the bean field, though. I say field loosely because it was a bunch of bean plants planted on the side of a hill in between corn, trees, and other brush.
After the two hours of hiking to get there, it only took us 20 minutes to harvest the beans. While we were picking beans, José was busy singing, laughing, dancing, and talking nonstop in the fastest Spanish I’ve ever heard. Once we were done, we turned around and headed right back through the jungle.
At this point in the story, I feel it’s important to mention that is was 100°F with about 150% humidity. We smelled like a football locker room after the hottest game of the season. There were bugs everywhere—mosquitos, stinging ants, spiders, etc. Our clothes were drenched (part sweat/part water) and some spirits were on empty. I was still in such a truly joyful mood, though. I credit that to the time I spent with the Holy Spirit that morning.
Back to the story. Once we hiked an hour back to the rest of the group, it was time for a lunch break. José climbed up a ladder to get us fresh coconuts to drink and rehydrate. We ate a gourmet meal of a piece of white bread, a banana, a hard boiled egg, and an Oreo while sitting on the muddy ground. Then it was back to work.
The other group had harvested banana bunches that we had to carry down a muddy hillside. Those suckers weighed approximately 30-40 pounds and were filled with spiders/bugs. I made 4 treks slipping and sliding through the mud, really going all out thinking it was the last thing we had to do. Then they told us we had one more hour of work.
We winded through the jungle to get to the huge wooden beams they had cut down earlier. It took 5 of us to hoist one up and carry it through the mud, rain, tree roots, rocks, and hills. Y’all, that was tough. My shoulder bones are still hurting 3 days later. I literally felt like I was answering Jesus’s call to take up His cross.
These hours of labor were all to serve one man: José Antonio. The work we did in one day would have taken him weeks. I tell you all this because Jesus meant what he said in the parable of the lost sheep. Sometimes you have to leave the 99 to find the 1. You have to leave the comfort of volunteering for an air conditioned American organization to work in a hot, buggy jungle for a farmer from Panama.
And to add to the story: José Antonio is a very lost sheep. The passion fruit he was drinking? Homemade alcohol. The reason he was talking and laughing and yelling at monkeys all day? He was drunk. The reason we were serving him? He needed hope, and he needed light even if he didn’t realize that’s what he needed. He lost his whole family because of his drinking problem. He owns acres upon acres of land, but never makes much of a profit because he spends it at the bar. He has no aspirations in life except selling enough produce to buy more alcohol. We worked with him all day in tough conditions in hopes of shedding a bit of God’s heart with him. He was so happy, you guys. I know some of it had to do with his drink, but I think some had to do with the 13 Americans, 2 Germans, and 2 locals giving him a big ol taste of God’s love.
This stream was a savior on our hike to the bean field. José Antonio even cleaned our chacos for us! Pictured: (front) Olivia, Stephanie, Kayla, (back) me, Hannah, Lexi, Jenna, and José with the photo bomb
-E
