Life In the Mountains

Did it ever dawn on you that amidst a world of technology and latest home gadgets, somewhere in the world women wash their clothes in the river and dry them out in the sun?

An official field trip took me to a very remote area on the island I live on. Here, I walked through virgin forests and heard bird sounds that I never heard of before.

I followed a trail leading to a river where screams of happy children blended with the happy song of the gushing water. The womenfolk busied themselves with the day's laundry.

The river was overflowing as it had been raining much the night before. Instead of taking the hanging bridge, I opted to wade. Gathering my shoes and the pack on my back, I walked clumsily trying to maintain balance. The children stared at me and began to huddle around me, their gaze fixed on my hand.

I laughed in amusement waving a gadget, "This is a camera and I would like to get your picture."

 
So off they jumped into the water and swam in glee. What a wonderful sight. What a wonderful gift of pure laughter. I felt like a child again. Seeing them deprived of the basic necessities of life, I felt so blessed having to live in a very large home secured from the rain and the howling winds. Despite of that deprivation in life, the happiness reflected on the innocent faces of these youngsters was something that money cannot buy.

This was a place where medical doctors and hospitals were unheard of. Sick people would see a quack doctor who "healed" them with Latin chants and rubbing mysterious oils he himself concocted. Serious patients were taken to the city which was three hours travel on road filled with large boulders. Sadly, most of them died along the way.

And this place was not energized and people lit gas lamps at night. In a hut where I spent nights, I slept under a warm mosquito net as there was no electric fan. I appreciated fireflies dancing in the dark, a privilege that has long been deprived of city folks like me.

As I approached the opposite side of the river bank, a child called out to me, "Auntie, are you returning here soon?" (A stranger is referred to as an aunt or uncle as calling an older person on a first-name basis is considered very rude.)

"Yes, I am." And I was lost in thoughts of what to bring them on my next return. Children's books, old encyclopaedias, some school supplies, old clothes and toys I gathered from friends and relatives.. Hmm, maybe I could also throw in some chocolate bars, too, which were not familiar in that mountain region.

(Reposted: June 10, 2007)