I find myself sitting in a bamboo hut in Karen State. The last couple of days are slowly erasing themselves from my anatomy, as I finally find time to relax a little. This week has sure been a whirlwind! On Tuesday Ben and Roy drove Pastor Phamor’s truck down to the school to pick us up. We threw our stuff into the back, jumped in and raced off down the road at a breakneck speed to try to get to the Burma border to renew our visa’s before they closed. (not the local Burma border, but the one at Mae Sot, two hours away) I think that we made it in an hour and a half, but we found out that the Thai side of the border closes at 6 p.m., but the Burma side closes at 4:30 p.m. (?????) So, we were forced to spend the night in Mae Sot. We really didn’t mind very much. I was pretty tired, and needed all the sleep I can get since I am still trying to get over being sick. Is everyone in America coughing too? We almost have competitions as to who has the worst cough!

The next morning, we hurried to the border. This border is different than the others. The Burmese do not want, or expect you to stay, so they make it easy to get your visa. All the other countries want tourists, so they make it to where it is hard to get through their country fast. After crossing into Burma, I was struck by how very poor the country is, and how dirty. I felt really sorry for them. Then, we raced back across the bridge and started on our way to Southern Thailand. We drove all day, and into the night. I usually cannot sleep in the car, but this time I did. I was so tired, and my eyes hurt so bad, that I just couldn’t help but close them, and then I would wake up and remind myself that I should be looking at the scenery. After dark, that did become pointless, so I just went to sleep.

Late that night, we arrived at a little village with an Adventist church. The people there had fixed a really nice meal, and we ate that and went to bed. I was so tired that I actually slept for the first half of the night without waking up! (I did not have my foam pad with me this time…..and it was an ironwood floor)

The next morning, the Pastor who was to be our guide, told us that we would be traveling to a little village in Karen State to attend a school graduation. I should have been suspicious when they said that we could not take Pastor Phamor’s truck. So, we sat innocently waiting for the other truck to arrive. When it came, I got my first twinges of anxiety. It was a little Toyota pickup that had a big lift kit on it, and knobby tires, and a skid plate under it. All the stuff under that truck looked like it had been beefed up a lot. They got right to work and started to load all the stuff into it that had to go. Then, they told me to take the seat of honor against the cab of the truck, along with two other brave ladies. Then, the crowd that I thought was there to see us off started getting into the truck. One after another they climbed in, trying to arrange themselves in microscopic spaces. Once we left the village, there were 18 people in the truck, with all their belongings. We then drove ceremoniously down the road. After driving a mile or so, we came to a gate where there was a man standing with about 6 huge bags stuffed full of something. They stopped the truck and started loading all those bags into the truck! Then, the man got in also along with another person there. Now there were 20 people in the little Toyota truck! By that time, I was sort of part of the luggage. My feet were under the load somewhere, so that I could not move them if I wanted to, and I sure did want to!

We then turned into a little dirt road, and started bumping along. This road went along a really pretty river with giant trees, and lots of bamboo. The road crossed the river I don’t know how many times, in water deep enough to really make me wonder if all that luggage would float so that I could get out if we went under! Every time we would comment about how good the road was, we would hit a really bad spot, and I would wonder if we would end up  having to just burry the truck right there in the road, and thank God that it wasn’t me that was buried there.  After a couple of hours of this, we stopped for a few minutes, and someone asked the driver how far we were going. He stated that it would take another 8 hours! So, I will spare you the details of the rest of the trip, but it was rather exciting to say the least!

At the end of that long road, ( I use the word road loosely) we came to a path….and the truck kept going….until we came to some trees that were too close together for the truck to get past.  Then everyone piled out and grabbed luggage and started walking. We walked for probably half a mile when we came to a house. This is where we are staying, and I hear that it belongs to the head man of the village. Somewhere on that walk, we crossed into Burma, and I understand that we have to be ready to run at a moment’s notice if the military shows up.

It does not look like a village! From this house, you cannot see any other houses. We can hike down the hill, cross a little stream on a wobbly bamboo stick, hike up the little hill, and there is the school. It is a large bamboo structure with low walls. There are two makeshift “blackboards” and some low benches that the students use as desks. I did not see any books, or paper, or pencils, or any other school type stuff.  The only way you can tell it is a school is the children. There are 20 students in this school, and two teachers. The kids are all little, and really cute. 

Last night we had a meeting at the school, and people started pouring out of the jungle into the school clearing. The meeting was unlike anything I have ever seen before. They started out with singing. This was a special occasion, so they had brought in a sound system from somewhere, and two electric guitars. So, here we are, WAY OUT in the jungle, and there is LOUD rock music blaring out of the loudspeakers in a little bamboo school during a worship service! I was totally blown away by it. After the “church” service, they were going to have a singing competition. They did one rock song, then they asked us to sing. We chose “Nearer, Still Nearer” out of the hymnal. It did not quite fit in, but oh well! Then they did more of their songs. The ringleader of this music fest was an important military man who had lost a son to the Burmese. When he died, this man took to drinking, and being an animist, he appears to be totally devil possessed.  He was the one with the sound system and the guitars, and he was doing his best to liven things up.  By that time, we decided that we should go back to the hut and go to sleep, if possible. So we left. Unfortunately, most of the congregation stayed all night long. We could hear the blaring music all night, while we frantically tried to go to sleep! (it is better to sleep on a hard floor than to lay awake on a hard floor)

This morning we were invited to another worship service. It was really nice this morning. The sound system was not in use, and the demon possessed guy was all worn out from the night’s antics. At breakfast this morning, Ben explained a few things to us. These people’s history is animist. They became Christians because it was quite popular, but they have no idea what it means to be a Christian. They basically have their own brand of Christianity, doing whatever feels right to them. That is why there were animist people at the worship service, and they enjoyed it very much. They feel perfectly comfortable being demon possessed there. Sad huh? So in other words, we really need to evangelize the church here! Ben says that it is this way all over Karen State. There are basically two churches here. This kind, and the real kind. You cannot tell which one is which, unless you spend time with them. ( or come to a meeting like we did last night) Basically, it all depends on the leader. If you have a good leader, then you will have a good church. In this culture, if the church is not growing and reaching out to others, if the village is not clean, and if there is not a real difference in the faces of the people, then they are more like animist Christians. When Jesus is real to the people, there is a vast difference in everything about a village. I can tell if it is a Christian village just by driving through it. They are cleaner, neater, with no beetle nut and no pigs. The people have a more peaceful, and clean look to their faces.

Each real Christian village represents the hard work and sacrifice of someone. Someone had to teach the people, someone had to go and tell them a better way to live. Someone had to dispel the ignorance of the people. When the Karen people are converted, the first thing that they want to do is to go and share the good news with others. They risk their lives regularly to share with others the freedom that they enjoy. There is so much work to be done in this area, Travis is thinking about coming back and teaching at the school here.