Mud, glorious mud!

It is rainy season down here in Gulf. That means that a day without rain
is rare, and most days there is frequent, heavy rain. The product of all
this rain is constant mud. My gumboots are my primary footwear, as
everywhere I go I am walking very carefully, trying not to slip or sink
too deep. Even with gumboots I need to wash my legs when I get home due
to the splash factor. The locals are clearly used to the mud, as one
Sunday after I trudged to church in my boots, my neighbour turned up
with his shoes clean and dry!

When in Ubuo, I usually go to Goiravi each Wednesday for language class
and Bible study with the ladies. Most of the year I just walk there. It
is about a 15 minute walk, half of which is getting from my end of Ubuo
to the other end, and half of which is the distance between the two
villages. This is rather close, considering there is a change in dialect
between the two places!

During muddy season, I've been told that the path is too muddy for me to
go and visit. Never mind the fact that members of the translation team
come and go from Goiravi every day, it has been declared too muddy for
me. Instead, I have been organising a boat to take me there. Last week
this was a dinghy and motor. The little river cruise was quite lovely,
but there was a delay in my return as they tried to find a few kina to
buy some more fuel.

This week I insisted that a motor was not necessary, but that a canoe
with paddle would be fine. A friend came with her canoe to pick me up in
the morning. It was barely big enough for me to wiggle my hips into so
that I could sit down. I was expected to sit, while the four year old
was expected to stand up and help paddle. Kids here really do have good
stability when it comes to canoes! On the other hand, I am a known
liability.

The paddle from Ubuo to Goiravi was a nervous ride for me. I did not
want to tip the canoe, mostly because I didn't want it to be the last
time I was trusted to ride in a canoe, but also because I did not want
to tip the 4yo into the water, as well as not wanting to tip my books,
tablet and speakers into the water. As we use the Jesus Film as part of
our Bible study, I was travelling with water sensitive cargo.

We made it in one piece, and I managed to extricate myself from the
canoe without incident. Bible study went well, but by the time I was
ready to return to Ubuo, the tide had gone out and paddling was not a
good option, so we came back along the path. The last few days had been
less rainy and more windy, which had improved the road somewhat. A few
days ago, I expect that it was the kind of mud in which a slip would
swallow me whole, and in 5,000 years someone would dig me up as a
mummified corpse and comment that I had muesli for breakfast. The wind
had turned it into a squelchy and slippery clay route, with no puddles
deep enough to over-top my gumboots. I made it home in one piece, with
only the usual amount of mud on my boots and on myself.

While rainy season means endless mud, it is also the windy season,
making the weather much more pleasant. It also happens to be butterfly
season, so brightly coloured butterflies are a regular sight as they
drink the hibiscus nectar in the front yard. Still, I'll be glad when
the drier season commences and life is less muddy.