Jesus in the mountain village - Kim Jinhee
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산골 마을의 예수님_English
There are small villages on top of the mountains in Croix des
Bouquets, where Kkottongnae is located. We are going to climb up to the
villages today. So we each pack five bags of Mannapack rice, lots of candies
and pens, water bottle and frozen juice into our backpacks. My backpack pulled
heavily on my shoulders.
Fr. Thaddeus dropped us at the trail entrance that led to the
mountain village. As I paused to take in the view that spread out before us, I
couldn’t help but notice the bare white spots that spilled down the front of
each mountain like a patchy landslide. Br. John explained that the bare patches
were caused by local villagers digging into the sides of the mountains in order
to gather the white sand which they would haul away and later sell.
We began our climb up the rocky mountain road at around 9 o’clock
in the morning. The sun was already getting hot with no shade at all to block
the heat. Sr. James wore thin-soled shoes that kept slipping on small rocks.
Cactuses and small bushes with long sharp thorns lined the side of the road. We
periodically sat down to drink ice cold juice, which Sr. James had frozen
overnight.
After a few hours of climbing, we arrived at the entrance of the
first village and decided to have lunch there before we visiting mountain
people. We found a spot with some cool shade and sat together in a circle.
While I sat resting my tired legs, I watched Sr. James and Br. John unpack the
food for lunch. Sr. James took cooked rice, kimchi, utensils and bowls out of
her backpack. And Br. John took a big size bottle of water, portable gas and
burner from his backpack and began to prepare the ramyeon noodles. I felt sorry
that they had to carry our lunch, as well as the Mannapack, candies, and pens
too.
While sitting and slurping my ramyeon, I thought about Br. John’s
ripped shoe. He takes on many of the most difficult tasks at Kkottongnae. While
pedaling his bike here and there all day long in order to repair this and that,
the side his shoe had ripped and left a sizeable hole. And now he was climbing
the mountain with that same torn shoe. I turned my gaze down toward the city of
Haiti, spreading wide at the base of the mountain. It looked oddly peaceful. In
that moment, I was oblivious to the gun shootings, the violent crimes, the
handicapped children abandoned and left to die on some roads in the city. At
that moment, in my mind, it was a peaceful place inhabited by people who were
made in God’s image, people just living their lives.
When lunch was over, we cleaned up and walked into the village. As
we did, we handed out candies and pens to the children, and Mannapack to the
mothers who were gathering here and there. Once we distributed the contents of
a backpack, we walked toward the next village and did the same there. And so
on. Until all of the supplies were gone.
Along the way, many children followed us until they started
getting too far from their homes. The candies and pens we handed out, made them
smile happily, smiles that were infectious and in turn made me smile too.
Br. John said the village children learn to carry water from the
time that they begin to walk. They take their water bottles to the water tank
and fill it with water to drink and cook with. As we walked from village to
village, I met some of these children carrying their bottles. When I put a
candy in their little hands, they stared at me, not knowing what to do and
wondering if they should be scared of me, a stranger. So I unwrapped the candy
and put it in their mouths. When I did, they finally flashed a wide white grin.
At one home I visited by myself, I was suddenly faced with a
mean-looking dog in the middle of a dirt yard. The dog was not on a leash and
it growled and barked, and finally ran at me. I screamed, and a man who was
sleeping in the yard sprung to his feet and grabbed the dog. I dropped a bag of
Mannapack and some candies on their porch and ran down the hill without saying
a thing.
In one village, children formed a long line, following behind Br.
John. He looked like the captain of a ship with his little sailors marching
along behind him. As he walking, he shouted “Glory to Jesus!” in Korean, and
then the children repeated it. They did not understand what it meant, but it looked
like they were having a lot of fun chanting with Br. John.
At one point on the path, we met a boy whose face was wrapped with
a thin piece of cloth that went under his chin and up both cheeks to the top of
his head. The cloth was tied at the top so it wouldn’t fall off. Br. John
lifted the cloth on the boy’s left cheek and saw a piece of leaf beneath it, a
traditional remedy used for a pain. The boy’s cheek was swollen like it was
infected. His eyes, too, were swollen and his face was stained with tears. Then
Br. John spoke sadly. He said they usually bring medication with them for
situations like this, but he had forgotten today. He stroked the boy’s head
softly and prayed over him.
When our backpacks were empty, we began our descent down the
mountain. The children stopped following us as we got farther away from their
villages. At one point, I slipped and fell and tore a hole in the knee of my
pants.
We walked for some hours before finally arriving at the big tree
where Fr. Thaddeus had come with the truck to meet us. Small goats gnawed at
the grass of the field. And calm quiet breeze passed through our silence. Br.
John sat alone in a distance from us, waiting. His legs were crossed and he
look as if he was in deep meditation. But then we saw his body sway from
side-to-side and realized that he was actually napping instead. Sr. James and I
laughed quietly to ourselves.
Back at Kkottongnae, I spent the rest of the day walking around in
the village with my little friends. And I talked to Sr. Matthias about the
suffering boy we had met on the road. She said that she knew someone from the
village, and she would see if they could help the boy. I realized that there
are many children living high in the mountains who do not have access to even
the most basic medicine. They go to school in the village, run around and play
together, when they are not carrying their bottles to get water. And the
Kkottongnae congregation climbs the mountain to meet them. And to carry rice
and medicine to them.
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