29 September 2005 21:17
The Eleventh Dayveinti-cinco de marzo, viernes
Good Friday's and Goat Pens
Aparently we'd been loafing around too much, so we got corraled into helping build a milking stall in the goat shed. (sorry)
After a decently early breakfast we headed back to the goat shed to get a look at our project for the day. The shed is a simple pole design, about 6 x 12m with open sides and a zinc roof. Four goat pens consume the one half on a platform elevated about two feet. The droppings pass through the slats of the platform, then the chickens are occasionally let in to feast on the insect population there--this keeps the insects off the goats. The other half was a holding area with a small hayrack and a water trough. We partitioned off one quarter of it to make the milking stall.
Kyle and I worked at first on the gate, this included flipping the gate leading to the pens over so that it hinged away from our new gate in the milking stall. Granddad and Jerrel assembled the fence, then K and I joined them. then we modified an existing milking stand and fastened it to the one fence. Added a table to the other side and tidied up our mess. It was a pretty neat job. I've got pictures.. I'll have to show you sometime.
This project consumed the morning hours up to lunch time, at which point I had to wash my arms up to my shoulders for the first time in a long while. After lunch we had some free time, so we played basketball in the blazing sunshine. We called a truce before anyone passed out, and retired to our respective hammocks on the veranda with our respective cold bottles of Fanta. After our respective showers of course. At 1430 we departed for a Good Friday service in town.
The service was bi-lingual (unsure whether that was for our benefit or standard procedure). It was English and probably Spanish, though I can't remember if it was that or Mosquito for the second language. The songs were all in English, and Baptist to the core. Afterwards we returned to the compound to find that a missions team had just returned from upriver. They were raring for a good shower and a good meal.
We had a good meal (and I assume they had good showers since they looked fairly respectable by suppertime), and afterwards we all sat around as they swapped stories from their week. Sounded interesting, but after eleven days on the move I wasn't very interested in roughing it--found it kind of hard to drum up any envy for them sleeping in tents in a land where the locals are named for the national bird: the mosquito.
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hola from mision bautista en pto cabezas. we have been warmly welcomed here by both the palmers and the thermometer. 95ºF in the shade, k and i just finished a rousing game of one on one basketball to the grand score of 6/4 my lead when we decided heat stroke probably wasn't a good after-lunch menu item. it's one o'clock now, we're leaving around two thirty for a good friday afternoon service. this morning we modified part of the goat/sheep stable to create a stall with a milking table. the milk they drink here is entirely from goats, and they make a fair amount of cheese from it too.
our bus ride from wampas was uneventful. according to granddad, the road has been much improved since last year, which is thanks to the work of the baptists here, they shipped a grader down from the states and spent three weeks leveling things out. we did have to stop and track down some water for the bus radiator, but that only swallowed about 20 minutes. i didn't get to see a whole lot of nicaragua as i was one of the priveleged ones standing in the aisle. and i'm sincere about the privelege. i sat for a little bit and the direct shock between washboarding and my brain pan brought my iq down by at least five points before i laid claim to an aisle spot. (this makes me concerned about kyle, since he had so few in the first place. i just got punched for typing htat, (twice) so i feel justified in sending it, depsite my original intention of deleting it) (three times)
the immigration office here in puerto cabezas is closed for santa semana, so we're really not here. i guess in bearuecratic terms we're still floating on the rio coco. i'm glad we're not, because it was wet, smelled funny, and there wasn't much shade.
...okay, the internet just came up so i'm sending this before it get's cranky. or before i pass on my true feelings to about this very sticky keyboard.
looks like we'll be flying to managua tomorrow morning (sat).
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