While looking at an art display in the lobby of our favorite Thai restaurant across the street from the office the artist approached us and asked if we were Russian. But this time our Finish friend stepped in speaking Mongolian and carried the ball (or in his case, "culiatha the hockey puck"). The artist is an older man who taught school from 1957 or so until he retired. He had a few paintings which to me capture Mongolia still life. I admired them wishing my camera could return so sentimental an image. He had several children who now live in the US in various states and cities.
I just read a post by some people I admire. http://jungle-hut.blogspot.com/ I must admit I am guilty as charged. We did drop JM and family off at Cha and leave them for two weeks. Well I didn't. I was fixing the airplanes that they rode on and resetting the email system when someone jumped in too fast and it crashed. Well actually Diana fixed the email most of the time. However I too have a story to share about the first time at the Cha airstrip. 
We had an event at a nearby airstrip which required the Mechanic (me) to go look at an airplane. It required that 3 or 4 others go as well. The airstrip in question was not so long and had a small hill on the departure end which had the effect of limiting the take off weight. As I was the lightest and with lowest seniority I was "given" the opportunity to help out (take one for the team so to speak) by being shuttled to the Cha airstrip so the others would be able to belt in once, then ride home after picking me up without getting out of the airplane. So, Much like the account in JM post I exited the airplane about three hours before dark and watched my ride home fly off toward a thunderstorm that looked pretty close.
Here are some things that went through my head: The People (I had yet to get to know JP, and JM so didn't know their names) who speak english are not in the village now, and I Cant speak Yequana, Cant speak much Spanish, Don't have anything to eat or drink, Where was that river? could I find the airstrip again if I left it? did they say the village is about 5 miles down stream and across the river? If I left now could I be there by dark and how would I get a ride across the river? Do I even have my pocket knife? Is that thunderstorm over the airstrip I just left? IF it is will it move on in time for them to come back and get me or am I spending the night here? You do realize that there are Tarantulas there that eat birds? and snakes that eat people? There are still wild tigers there that have been known to drag people off. I saw the marks on the survivors we flew out of the jungle for medical help from time to time.
And earth worms that you can make worm jerky out of? Nearby were bugs whose bite will cause the cartilage in your nose to dissolve, or malaria, or yellow fever, or cause you to go blind. And snakes and more snakes and more snakes.
Regardless of how rosy a picture of life in Cha JM or JP or Jkids paint, it is not now or then a picnic. I was somewhat concerned for the short term future of the Siberian Tom family bread winner.
Enough suspence. The plane came back and I had grilled chicken for supper with rice and a coke.
Bayartai (good-bye)
5 comments:
And JellO for dessert, right? JKids loved going to your house on visits to the big city of P.A. because Aunt Diane always made jello. Since our jungle fridge only got cold enough to make Jello soup this was a real treat.
Also, most of my courtship with my then boyfriend/now husband was done over email. We owe you a big thanks for fixing the email every time it crashed. My young puppy love heart loved hearing the beep beeping of email coming through. Three cheers for Tom and Diane!
I remember one time that Steve Robinson practically threw us out of the airplane. We had landed between two rainstorms that were passing through the village. He didn't unbuckle and we had to climb out of the 185 with him still in the pilot's seat. We, better yet, I, (since my kids were all small) emptied the pod and cargo area while he watched and told us to hurry and then he flew off. He had a five minute window on the ground for his turn around to be able to reach home that night before sunset, and he was going to fly threw that window (whether it was open or not!!!!). Problem was that we hadn't been able to tell the village that we were coming. It was dark and raining again before Roel, our Ye'kwana son, showed up in a itty bitty canoe with no motor in which we all could not fit. I was getting ready to undress to swim downriver behind the canoe when another hunter happened by and gave me a ride. Our brand new pillow were wet and moldy by the next morning. Thank you very much Steven Joel Robertson! I must give Steve credit though. He was Jackie's favorite pilot (Jackie is a JW Jungle Wimp!) On our flight days you could hear Jackie praying that it would be Steve. Later she came to trust them all, much later!
Please note that the last name of the pilot has been changed or altered to protect him from razing by his fellow pilots!
I am so glad you are writing this all down! I remembr sittingf on a lonely airstrip with a Leatherman and my kids thinking all those same thoughts!!!!! Can you kill a tigre with a Leatherman?????
See Tom, you are Russian... Siberia is calling you :)
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