Water... fall.

Alright, so everyone is wondering what the junk happened. First, I'll tell you that the x-ray machine was there, there was a guy to work it and the films came back great--no breaks! Praise Jesus! And, better yet, it worked out that I can get on a flight home tomorrow morning. God works against all odds. ;) I'm super happy because I'm really homesick for Lopit and my teammates. I've only been gone two days. I'm pathetic.

Anyway, the story...

I went with one of the village ladies to get water from the river that isn't far from my house. It's actually hard to call the place a river. It's more of this rock ravine thing--almost like two big slabs of rock are folded together and water runs through the crease. I actually really love the place--it's where the ladies bathe and get water, the first place we really saw them as people and not just worker bees. But maybe more on that some other time.

So these rock slabs are at a pitch on either side--probably 65-70 degrees--and you've got to carefully walk on a slant so you don't go tumbling down the mountain. This was my first time trying to do the water-on-my-head thing. They carry these huge 20L jerry cans (is that how you spell that?) of water on their heads. So the lady I'm paired with for my homestay decided I needed to help her do this. Fine with me; I like new experiences. Problem is she didn't tell me, so I had bad flipflops on and my glasses. (You can't look down at the ground through glasses while you've got a thing of water on your head.)

Sooooo, anyway, I make the first trip OK. It's about a halfmile each way. The second time I was doing alright, too -- I'd filled my jerry can and got it on my head and everything. But here's the thing about the rock faces that we're walking across. There are little spots where water crops up out of no where and forms a stream down into the main stream. They moss up a bit and get really slippery. The kids love it--they use the whole "river" as a waterslide of sorts and squeal happily all the way down. There are little dropoffs at some points, though, so they try to catch either other beforee they fly over them.

Ok, so, by now, you know what's happened. I take a few steps with the jerry can and unknowingly step on a small puddle of water. My feet fly out from underneath me and the jerry can and I land HARD on the rockface. My elbow and ankle get most of the impact. It gets worse, though. I start sliding DOWN the waterfall/river thing--flying down out of control, my body grating against the rough rock. It felt a lot like I was on a cheese grater. Anyway, I kept flying down, probably 20 feet, until I was in the stream. Luckily, though, there was this old lady there who grabbed me before I flew over an edge.

Enter a culture difference. The appropriate African response? Laughter. They don't cry, they don't get too upset. Just laugther. Intense. So I'm lying there, drenched and bleeding all over and these ladies are laughing at me. And they have no idea how badly I'm hurt. All I can see is my elbow, which already had two huge lumps as big as golf balls on it.

I finally manage to get up and all I can squeak out in Lopit is "home, home." The woman I'm with--who, it would be appropriate to mention now, has been a jerk to me all week--hands me the jerry can again. And so I basically limp back home, trying to call out my roommates name as soon as I'm within earshot of our hut. I saw some women I knew on the way, all who only asked me where my water was or tried to grab me. (In their defense, they didn't know I was so hurt.)

So, yeah, I finally get back and my roommates finally come out. The children had tried to get them by village telegram -- I guess they were at our gate yelling "Pattie, Pattie... Ibedga! (my Lopit name)" -- but my roomies just thought they were wanting to race me like always.

Enter the most humbling night of my life. I was just wailing and crying. I have a really high tolerance for pain and a super prideful heart, so it was horrible sitting there and having everyone serve me. They had to radio my team leader and he and his wife came running up the mountain. Then Daniel just happened to come by (God brought him, he said) and they sent him up for more pillows... and candy. (My roommates know me well already.) All this during a terrible rain storm. They called and checked on flights coming by so they could fly me out if my arm and/or ankle was broken. Getting hurt in the bush is serious stuff. Ugh. It really makes you realize how far out here we are.

Anyway, it was a long night of codine and being doted over. A lesson in humility for me. But it just reaffirmed how awesome my teammates are to me. And how good God is, that I could catch a diversion for just $40 the next day. (When a lady was hurt here a couple months back, it cost $4000 to get her out.) And I did get two bags of German sweets out of it. (Man, did I feel special.)

Alright, there you go. The X-rays were fine. The only problem is there isn't an aircast or pair of crutches within 1000 miles of this place, so I'm just hobbling around. And I'm not sure how I'm going to get back up the mountain to my hut -- Stephan carried me down yesterday afternoon. (Probably not the most culturally appropriate thing to do... but what choice did we have?) But I'll be glad to be back.

The end! Thanks for all your prayers. Keep praying for a quick healing. Living in the mountains with a sprained ankle isn't all that great of a deal.