front of the spear studded ….

front of the spear studded hut. In Quakertown throwing even the littlest pebbles at someone’s home was considered a crime.

On another trip, the bishop announced they were going to visit the home of his son-in-law’s parents. Shortly after their arrival a live goat was presented to the bishop before it was summarily sacrificed for their dinner. The goat was dressed and cooked in their presence and served to be eaten right away. Evie knew uncured cooked meat immediately after being killed smelled differently than that which was aged. The foul-smelling meat repulsed her.

“Evie!” (Ascofu addressed her by her forename in moments of correction.)

“You must eat this.” She thought about the queen termite and the cow’s eye, and then Abraham who, after learning he was to have a baby, served the angels a newly slaughtered animal. The biblical recollection persuaded Evie that she could eat the freshly killed goat, although it was something she would never have been asked to do in Quakertown.

Gradually Evie’s options for entertainment expanded as her circle of acquaintances grew. She had little money but scrimped to dine twice on the lone passenger ship that docked on the lake. She managed eventually to muster enough savings to purchase the ship’s fare for a short vacation cruise taken with several other residents of the compound. The voyage included a trip around Lake Victoria from Musoma to Shirati and Kampala, the source of the Nile, followed by the return trip. The difference between Evie and her companions was that her fare did not include accommodations, which meant essentially that she spent most of her time on deck in a deck chair. She stored her valuables in her companions’ room and the very kind staff provided her with a blanket. Those few days provided Evie with not only much needed rest but great experiences.

The always fresh breeze day and night was marvelous and the kindness of the staff unforgettable. Who would have thought that living on deck could provide such a great trip?

Evie was invited also to join volleyball teams composed of the student pastors. She went with two of them and her housemate, Stella, one day to attend a village celebration where another goat was sacrificed and served to the guests. This time she recognized the honor associated with the feast and did not balk at dining. Evie loved the music of this land. She was especially excited to hear a musician who played an instrument called, bu, a horn that generated a total of five notes only. She had been asking to hear a bu as soon as she learned about it, an old, old traditional instrument seldom played anymore. As the musician blew into the horn, he accompanied himself by stamping his feet to activate bells strapped to his ankles. The mellow timbre of the musical sounds and rhythmical accompaniment were beyond anything she could have imagined. She could hardly stop thinking and talking about it during the group’s return to their home. Her companions nodded their heads in agreement.

The many head-to-head experiences and conflicts got her through learning the hard way about cultural practices so contrary to her own. When Evie made social errors, the bishop never got upset with her. His response was to patiently educate her through difficult situations. For the most part, Evie followed instructions from the others as well because she realized she was not a threat. Being part of the “family” placed her in a unique situation to learn and grow. Eventually, however, it was Pastor Joseph Shenk who one year later delivered the invincible dare that 22-year-old Evie could not put down.

The Challenge “Evie, all the missionaries eventually climb Kilimanjaro!”

She knew about the majestic mountain the locals revered as a sacred site and the Giver of Life, but never thought about climbing it. As a nonathletic person, she was content to respect its importance from a distance. It was after all the country’s highest mountain, the world’s highest free-standing mountain, and an aspiration for climbers worldwide. The locals told stories of three women who long ago had climbed the mountain, but none of them were missionaries. It didn’t take long for Evie to decide she wanted to attempt the climb not only to put an end to Joseph’s incessant prodding but to respond to her own inclination.

I’ve traveled so far and learned so much. Why pass up this opportunity? Besides, if the locals regard the mountain as the Giver of Life, what could go wrong for me?

Knowing a NARP (nonathletic regular person) would need intense conditioning for the climb, Evie got to work. She started walking on the long road by the compound and then climbing an adjacent hill. The African locals thought she was unbelievably crazy for walking because walking for them was a mode of transportation. It made absolutely no sense that someone would walk for fun. But their curiosity was aroused.

“Is she going to make it? Or not?”

Plans developed for a local group with which she would be climbing. It would include two male math teachers who lived nearby, one of whom had a wife. The foursome was scheduled to join another group of climbers so that it would include 21 members, 19 males and two women, plus guides and porters. Evie and her partners were scheduled to travel 340 miles to get to the base camp where they would be outfi tted with equipment including clothes, boots and a long walking stick to prevent backward sliding on the trail. Evie’s self-imposed training schedule had strengthened her body and boosted her determination.

Bring it on! I’m ready for you, you great big Mountain of Whiteness!

But Evie was not prepared for the change in plans that occurred on the morning of the groups scheduled departure. The other woman had developed a cold and was not allowed to take the trip. That meant Evie would be the only woman in the group of climbers composed of men, most of whom she had never met. Oh, well. I’m not backing out now, especially after all the walking I’ve done just to prepare myself.

Gathering with the team of climbers and porters on the early morning of the beginning of the ascent was nerve-raking. She thought about her preparation as training even though she had been alone in those efforts, and she knew she had not transformed herself into an athlete. She wondered if athletes felt the same way as she did in the moment prior to performance: excited, pressured to perform mixed with self-doubt, isolated, apprehensive yet determined. She had advanced to this moment adjusting to new values, norms, rituals, mores and ethics while resolutely clinging to those she had acquired from the community of her youth. It was out of that integrated process that she demonstrated her tenacity by arriving to the gathering in the loose skirt she would continue to wear over her climbing outfit made of layers of wicking and insulating tops, long pants, and warm socks inside strong hiking boots designed to protect her feet from every sort of climbing condition and abuse. But it was more than her tenacity that earned her respect from the other climbers. Evie was the only one who spoke Swahili, the language of the guides and porters. — to be continued