Tukals, our homes away from home!
It’s January 26 and we (13 trainees & their 4 children, plus the 4 missionaries & their 4 children, plus 2 volunteers-me and the other lady who would be in charge of the school for the children) set out for the bush camp, our home away from home for the next several weeks. The missionaries and we volunteers arrived at the bush camp first, to unpack and set things up before the trainees arrived.
From the borehole to the jerry can. From the jerry can to the black tank. From the black tank to our Nalgene’s – maybe!
Water is in short supply in this arid region so one of our first responsibilities was to get the black tank filled up (see picture above). Not as easy as it might sound for that process involved a trip to the borehole (a hole is bored into the ground until they hit water)
A borehole. Not as easy as it looks. We made quite the spectacle for the local children!
which we took by vehicle! (well we did have to fill up more than a few jerry cans) The borehole was located on the outskirts of a nearby village about a 5 minute drive from camp. (Yet, when the locals need water they set out early in the morning to walk to the nearest borehole to fill up their jerry can/s. This is a daily routine for them.) You might be interested to know that a full jerry can equaled about 40 lbs.
And, oh yeah, hopefully the drinkers of such water needed to not mind a chlorine taste, for in order to make it safe to drink, good ole chlorine had to be poured in. (I preferred drinking the water from the filters brought in to use at camp. After adding some grape flavoring it became tolerable). That chlorine taste was a bit too hard for me to swallow–literally! Notice the picture below. These are the type of filter I referred to. Two of these types of filters were brought in to be used at camp. Each of the missionaries had these in their homes–an item no missionary’s home would be without–especially in this area.
I would fill up my Nalgene with water from this type of water filter.
Once the water was provided and set up for use in camp, our attentions were directed to an increasing problem. A grass fire, common in this area, began creeping closer and closer to our camp. Finally, we were put on alert to be prepared to run. A lone soldier from a nearby military camp was bravely fighting the flame. His efforts were multiplied when some of our guys joined him.
The wind was in our favor and so was the position of the fire because the fire was burning north of us. Our concern was that if it moved around our hill and started burning south of us then the wind would drive it up the south slope and burn out our camp.
The army guy and our guys worked hard to contain the fire as it crept ever closer to our camp. A backfire was strategically started at the edge of the camp area and eventually the fire burned itself out. So thanks to the skill of our firefighters and God keeping the wind contained we stayed out of danger.
The fire had crept up to the very edge of our camp.
Our first day at camp might have been considered a harbinger of things to come because 2 more times these types of fires threatened our camp. Here are a few pictures.
The black ground reveals how close this fire got!
This fire was way too close.
Quick action on the part of our trainees kept the tukal I lived in from catching fire.
You can see the burn line and how close it got to the tukals.
The fires were likely started by young shepherd boys who were trying to capture a certain kind of rat. These rats are considered edible! (I don’t care what they say. There is no rat in existence that’s edible in my personal opinion! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! )The burns are also considered a way to keep the grasses from growing out of control.
I felt like I had walked back in time and was living out my life much as our pioneers lived before the days of electricity and indoor plumbing. It was easier for me than it was for the trainees because I got to return to my son’s home along with the missionaries about every 4 days. So, next post I’ll pull back the curtain a little more for you to catch a glimpse of what our missionaries get to experience. It’s an unusual and fascinating way to live.
Being the Mom of a Missionary 
Leave a Reply