The day was hot and the roads were muddy from a fresh rain. It felt like something out of a movie as we mounted “motos” (In the States we would probably call it a cross between a motorcycle and a dirt bike). 3 of us passengers mounted the 3 bikes as the expert drivers led us down the dirt (or often more like mud) road.
We passed through fields of cows, pushed open gates to cross into the next path, and the bikes were expertly maneuvered through the rugged path. I honestly never felt worried as I trusted this expert driver to get me to the location we could only reach by moto. I will say, however, that it was completely amazing that they knew exactly which way to turn or when to go straight when there were no indicators whatsoever. We crossed through streams, passed a few who were finishing bathing (clothed, of course, but that’s what they were there to do), and had to demount once and trudge through the mud so the moto could make it up the slimy path where we would remount and continue.
The fresh wind in the warm air pushed the hair around my face as I smiled and took in the moment. I was on the first moto, so I was the first to arrive. (I do think I may have gotten the best driver of them all?) he dropped me off at the home in the village of Arroyo Seco to wait for the others. They kindly offered me a chair and I began to chat with them. They welcomed me seemingly without hesitation.
I thought that this meeting could be a challenge since we arrived late due to bad roads (the normal roads, I am referring to, not even the ones we navigated by moto). We decided to cut a few pieces of the event because of our time, but in the end, taking those pieces out did not make the meeting any less valuable. Each place had its own unique moments and responses, and Arroyo Seco was no different.
Due to our late arrival being around lunch time, we thought maybe the women may not come, or less of them anyway. But little by little they arrived to the small school room and by the end of the meeting we had over 20. They were patient with me as I am certain I did mess up some of their language, but nonetheless, they were the first group to interact with the message and not be shy to respond to what I was saying. They listened intently. They spoke up at times. And more than anything, they welcomed me into their space as one of their own. I was there to share with them that each of them had value in this world and yet through this journey, these women conitnuously reminded me of my worth. It was a transforming time there in Arroyo Seco.
To end the meeting, we had a time of prayer in a circle holding hands. That was the only village we did that specifically. We usually closed in prayer, but here we held hands. My bright white skin against their dark skin, weathered from the sun and dirt and hard living conditions. Their smiles and hugs will bring me joy (and tears) forever upon remembering.
Ending with many hugs and blessings, it was time to part ways. I drank in the sight of this little village once more. The palm tree thatch roofs, the bamboo outer layers to the home, the 9 people in one (small) home who first welcomed me, and I knew that one day I would return. Because here was once again the presence of God tucked away in the mountains of Colombia in a tiny village that is unknown to most of the world, but to God holds just as much value as the city of millions.
We mounted our motos once again and I let the moments sink in as we passed through the green fields, the muddy path, the streams and the cows.
On the journey back, we had laughs as Elizabeth fell off the moto and me being on the lead moto said to my driver “Well, I think this proves you are the best of all 3 of them!” As we continued on and the drivers would mystically and professionally manage the paths, knowing when to let their feet down and slow the moto and maneauver it through the mud as well as when to speed up to make it up a hill or stop so I could get off so that we would not crash….
Arroyo Seco now holds a piece of my heart. I had no idea I had so much space for so many of these people. But they just keep showing up and leaving imprints on me. One experience at a time.
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