breakdowns, bloodmoons, and backpacks…a story from the storyteller

 

 

 

Storytime from the storyteller of O’hana. Apparently, I am supposed to tell good stories, here is an adventure we had the other day. 

 

 

We left around 5:45PM in three separate vehicles, a flatbed truck, a Prius, and a vehicle similar looking to a bronco. We girls were all in the backseat row of the bronco looking vehicle with TJ in the front left seat and a 22 year old young man who told us Americans call him “Big Bro”. He wore a cutoff shirt and had rows of braids that formed a mohawk look. 

After we drove out of the city-traffic not being terrible at all- we started getting on more of a “road” which to me meant we weren’t stopping or maneuvering through traffic every other second in awe of the driving skills and turn radius of these Mongolian vehicles. The hills rolled on either side covered with a thin layer of soft grass. Yurts speckled the hills and herds of horses and cows grazed contentedly unfenced. The Lord gave me so much joy and filled me with His laughter and love.

After almost two hours of driving, we were trying to stay warm as the temp dropped as well as trying to not let arms or legs fall asleep from the awkward positions we were sitting in, we stopped at a rustic store for water. By this point, some of us were getting hungry, namely me. I dug around the back of the car which was full of food for the next week and found some granola and happily picked out the dried apples and oats. Hudson bought what they called was dried fruit but we had no idea what it really was. They were brightly colored tough stick candies and though they had the texture of dried fruit, they were almost pure sugar to taste. 

After a rumor of possibly getting fed or buying food we got back into the car to finish out the last couple hours of driving (rumors are common when you don’t speak Mongolian, and they don’t speak English well). Sooner than later dusk came closing off the scenery and ability to  prepare for potholes. Each of us girls had our headphones in listening to podcasts, music, or audio books, TJ was dozing in the front seat, and apparently Eric and Hudson were embracing the heat of a bench seat with three men and closed windows. 

We pulled up to a typical simple Mongolian house in a neighborhood filled with dirt roads, hills, ditches and fences of all sorts and colors. This was Big Bro’s house, and his family welcomed us with Mongolian tea in bowls -goat milk that was hot and salty- as well as a large platter of flat noodles mixed with strips of fatty lamb or beef dripping with flavor amongst the noodles. Risked the noodles praying my stomach would be fine—it definitely got upset later. The family as well as our host family talked in Mongolian while O’hana mostly just sat exhausted and tried to figure out what stories they may be telling in their language. All the while the children ran around inside and out, and it wasn’t long before our guys started joining them. 

Quite cold, we got back into our vehicles. The girls were tired and tried to get comfortable enough to get to sleep but it wasn’t long before we passed up the guys and pulled up in front of them on the side of the highway. The guys were all out of the truck and the truck apparently was having issues. This truck was carrying all our packs. Our guys couldn’t speak to the Mongolians well enough to try to figure it out, so they helped where they could but they also switched out coming into our car to stay warm. It was fully dark at this time but then there was an orange glow far out on the horizon. With it only being 9:30ish now, it definitely was the sun, but it was rising so quickly. It was a deeply colored orangish red, a blood moon. Quickly, it rose and slid behind the wispy clouds just letting a hint of color through. Hudson gave some of the girls snickers bars—pieces of the ones he was saving over the next few days; he gave me some dried apricot, and Eric scared me half to death by suddenly putting his face up against my door window while I was listening to my music. 

It was getting colder. Most of us weren’t wearing enough layers and borrowed from our guys. Then Big Bro came back, everyone got back in our cars, and wondering why we were going so slow, realized our vehicle was towing the truck. When you thought towing on a flat surface may have been slow, going up a hill was a bit terrifying. The thought of the chain or whatever they were using snapping while on the hill may have crossed my mind. Then we stopped again in an off the road area. We weren’t going any further towing. They opened up the back of our car, pulled out my guitar, and got as many of the girls’ packs in the back as they could. Boldo showed up in his Prius saying he would take only people in his car and would come back for the packs. Hudson wouldn’t back down on taking Caitie’s pack with him even if he carried it on his lap. I was praying for my guitar to stay safe across all the bumps, ditches and in the cold all in its soft, now ripping, case. 

We winded cross country on roads dirt bikers and four wheelers would live for. Smoothness could be measured in inches as the car lurched side to side, up, down, across every which way following the tired tracks marked in the grass. We finally made it to our yurt for the night. Down to one yurt instead of two due to our other yurt being used that night, so all seven of us were to share the four bedded yurt for the night. Two beds for the girls, two for the guys, and a small wood stove and table in the middle. 

Food was unloaded and half the packs. Eric went back to get the rest, and then I realized my pack didn’t make it in the first load. 

Exhausted, everyone except me and TJ went to bed. It was about midnight or 12:30AM  by this time. The stove was started to warm our cold bodies, so I sat by it reading my Bible to get some Jesus time in while waiting for my guitar and pack to come. About an hour later we heard the cars pull up and then the rest of the gear was brought in to our small home. TJ made his bed on his pad on the floor since he didn’t want to share with one of the “big guys” on these twin beds. I got into my zenbivy on the bed with Caitie in her sleeping bag as well, lights went out, the roller coaster of a night was done, sleep felt so good, and God was through it all. 

 

sorry…no pics but an update blog WITH PICTURES IN COMING UP SOON! hope you enjoyed the bedtime story 😉