Too Much Happy for One Face

Imagine you have been travelling for over 24hrs. By taxi, train, steam train, bus, truck and foot. You stumble into a campsite 3000m up on the side of a mountain in the jungle. There are over 100 others milling around: around 70 gypsy and irula kids (with some of the younger parents), indian leaders and camp staff from several states, other volunteers from several countries.
It's getting dark. It's also getting cold. You grab stuff from the truck, try to work out sleeping arrangements, hand out jumpers and jackets to poor kids who have never experienced cold, altitude, isolation from any form of civilisation - in short, anything like this before. Shell-shocked? I think so.

There aren't enough big jumpers, and so the tallest boys end up with some horribly short ones. They _all_ want ones with hoods, and you are overwhelmed by choruses of "cap, cap, cap.. friend, cap? Want cap". You all gobble down some hearty curry and rice, huddle around the fire, learn a fun song and watch a hilarious story be told (well, they listened too - I just didn't understand any!) and as soon as possible, head to bed.

The next morning is bitterly cold. If you were brave, you might have dragged yourself out of bed earlier than you needed to, and stumbled down to the lake. You would have seen mist feathering up off its sapphire depths as the day awoke.
You would have returned to the campsite and joined the shivering children; fervently hugging tumblers of hot chai in icy hands, and hanging out for breakfast (more curry and rice).

The day warms with the sun, and you all relax a little. You begin getting to know eachother. You learn more songs, play games, have competitions, try your hand at archery, maybe go walking and skipping through fern-lined streams and gorges, kids trailing from your hands and arms, taking off, hanging back, yelling, fighting, grinning, begging, learning names, forgetting names..

By the second day, you have come to expect the cold sweeping in. You know that you will get three square meals and plenty of tea. You know that there are a whole stack of people here who are filled with love and joy and compassion and you can't help seeing and feeling it.
The kids are still a little crazy, but the fighting and arguing is no longer a constant. There are many many more smiles than frowns. You really can't believe the change. So soon? And even the angry gypsy lady that yelled all the time and no one liked? Even she is smiling. And gleefully singing snatches of song.

By the end of the 2nd day, no one wants to leave. I'm not going to forget the shining eyes of kids kayaking for the first time - or the guts of those girls trying out abseiling.

On the last day, apparently one little boy burst out "TOO MUCH HAPPY!" That's exactly how I felt too, in this beautiful place, with these people.

This really sounds a bit too sentimental or romantic, I know. Couldn't really have been like that. People don't just change like that. (And of course they were -we are all- still far from perfect!)
But it was real. Something happened. We felt it and saw it and were blessed by this crazy community that grew together. Who knows what will happen when we all go back home - so many back to just surviving on a pittance from day to day, begging and pleading their way forward. Who knows? But I do hope and trust that those bits of peace and love will take root and keep growing. The Creator keep somehow working his redemptive magic.

Funny bits from Desert Trek which I would do cartoons of if I was as clever as some of my friends..!

- Pete playing Bunny Bunny Carrot Carrot (sorry, you had to be there!)

- Sam melting marshmallows on his fingertips


- Watching boys fruitlessly chase goats up and down steep rocky ridges

- What happens when someone who'd been balancing on the other end of a log to someone else gets up

- Doughboy wars
- Running out of sugar and Katrina sweetening pikelets with blobs of marshmallow - so good! They went all caramelly and yum.

- The mines inspectors Mark introduced himself to. They'd just finished agreeing with eachother that no one ever came out near these mines, being on private property and in the middle of nowhere and all... when next thing they know around 25 people walk past!! And by the time Mark caught up with us to say that he'd promised them we were the only ones who came and we never did anything silly, there we were all standing round peering into a completely unguarded unfenced mineshaft!

that's all for now...

Desperately seeking Desert

Hello!
Well the title really is meant to say desert, not dessert, so I'm sorry if you were hoping for a tale of an exciting mudcake experience or something of that sort! If so I'm sure I'll be able to comply sometime in the near future, as the seeking (and/or making) of sweet things is a fairly frequent occurrence for me. Just not this time.

I went on a "Desert Trek" last week. Basically a whole bunch of people went camping out near Broken Hill.

Some of us rose before dawn to watch the day come awake.

Many hours were spent around the campfire sitting, singing, cooking, eating, praying, laughing, sharing and listening to stories - or just watching the glowing, sparking embers.

We spent time alone, time just to listen and to be.


We spent time walking, adventuring, climbing rocky hills and ridges, chasing goats, climbing through gorges and round water-carved pools. Hanging with good friends.

I lapped up the wide wide desert skies, soaked myself in the golden wintery sun and the potent campfire heat, and felt the spirit breathing life.

It was very very good.

Sometimes the night was beautiful
sometimes the sky seemed so far away
sometimes it seemed to stoop so close
you could touch it but your heart would break
sometimes the morning came too soon
sometimes the day could be so hard
there was so much left to do
but so much you've already done oh God...
- Rich Mullins

Thanks for chance to step out of it all and bite beautiful reality.

belated blackstump stories - or why never to travel in convoy!

This is going to be more about the journey than the arrival, ok? Cos we know know that's what really matters.. [or so some would have us think!]

We planned to set off at 10am on the Friday, meeting at Burrabadine around 9:30 to pack the cars. Actually, the first hitch of the weekend was hearing the night before that the bus we were planning on taking had a cracked head, so we couldn't take it. So a bunch of people had to bring cars instead.
It was nearly 10 before my gang even got out to Burrabadine. We had all been up early and were pretty much ready to go.. when Dad decided to change the oil and mess around with the car for a while. And then we still had to connect up the trailer.
We got to Burrabadine and joined up with the swirling masses there. Bags, swags, tents, pillows, boxes of food and goodness knows what were going everywhere! I ended up just standing back and watching. They'd get packed in one trailer just to get moved to the boot of a car.. and then out again. It was beyond me! In the end we were ready to head.
But wait! A petrol stop in Dubbo before we could actually get away. I think by then it was 11:30, try 11:45 by the time we actually left town.

First stop: Wellington, to pick up a camper. (only 40mins on, arghh!)
Then a toilet stop in Orange.
Then lunch and another camper pickup in Bathurst.
Then fears that one of the cars wouldn't make it. And another stop.

Going through the Blue Mountains, the convoy got totally separated. First there was the fog, then.. I'm not sure, couldn't see!

What I do know is that our car beat everyone else there, arriving at 6pm that night (so much for arriving and setting up tents in daylight!). And it was raining.
The other thing I know is that the last car didn't arrive until after 9... the poor things went all the way into Sydney and back!!

Blackstump was fun. Wet, muddy, pizza-filled, coffee-sozzled, but fun. There was even a few bands I liked. ooh, and a big impromptu singalong on the final night - where more & more people trickled in and joined the rowdy balladeers in the Supper Club tent into the wee small hours. Too bad we couldn't remember all the words to most of the songs!

The trip out from BS was also eventful. We rolled up our soggy tents, mats and clothes, and set off together, deciding to give this convoy-thing another go.
We'd just got on the road when something popped in one of the cars, so, determined not to be separated, all (7?) of the cars pulled over to check it out. Water topped up, we were off again.

The rest of the trip is a blur of phones ringing, stops because we thought cars were breaking down (well, one car), more phones ringing, people-swapping, dozing, m&m eating, more phones ringing "we're getting petrol" "we need a toilet break" "are we stopping for food here?"... you get the idea.

We finally got to Dubbo, and then straight out to the place where we planned to camp for the next two nights. Tired, hungry and a bit grumpy, we set up tents (in the dark again - getting to be old hands at it by now).
Finally, at 10pm, we had dinner (God bless the lovely lady who cooked it for us!) So. good.

There was a bit more camping, swimming in the river, catching mussels, spooky wide game-playing (ask me about the Terrors and Crawlers another time. Oh, and hefty guys acting the Princess!!), campfire marshies, songs and stories. It was great.

So there you go then. The epic Stump camp adventure.