All Aboard

One bright Wednesday morning at 7am, we embarked on an adventure that I can guarantee you has never been done before. 

From where we come from in the southern United States, boats are a recreational pastime. Need to get away for the weekend? Grab a canoe and go on a float trip. Need a place in the summer to hang out with your friends? Get a boat and head to the lake. Need a leisurely afternoon? Load up your kayak and head to the river. Boats are just fun. I love boats. 

I'm not sure that really translates into Burkina culture. Boats are for fishing, boats are for work, and your average Dagara person is scared of water and would have no desire to go out in a boat anywhere. 

That's why I say that when six white people showed up at the lakeside shore and offered to pay two fisherman to take us out on the lake in their boats, I can pretty much guarantee you that's never been done before. They probably thought we were crazy, and it was so worth it. 

I thought we were going to sink the boats the moment we pulled away from shore. These Pocahontas-style wooden canoes made out of planks are used to holding the weight of one fisherman and a few fish. Put three additional white people in them (each one of us being larger than the average African), and you got all sorts of unexpected (or maybe not) problems. 

The edges of the canoe are only about two inches above the level of the water, which by the way, has crocodiles. 

Water comes rushing in the holes, and the "guide" rips up some cloth and stuffs the pieces in the holes so we don't have to bale water quite so fast. 

We still end up with a constant supply of water in the boat. About three inches deep to be exact, depending on how motivated Victoria is to scoop it out using the plastic jug cut into the shape of a shovel. 

The plank where I am supposed to be sitting at the front of the boat is broken, so they bring me a plastic chair, which makes me feel like Queen of the Swamp until I realize that my center of gravity is way too high for the narrow, low-lying state we are in. One little jerk or sneeze and I could send my whole party overboard...which I thought about doing several times just to have a good story to tell, but then I realized they would probably hate me and leave me to the crocs. 

Our guide is approximately twelve years old and has a paddle made out of an old shoe. Literally. He also has a big stick that he can use to push us, which ended up working better for him.

It was possibly the most ridiculous thing I have ever been a part of, and I loved every second of it. That's because I love being in a boat, and adding crocodiles and murky water and a Pocahontas boat with holes just made it that much better. 

At the end of the trip, we kissed the land and thanked God to still be alive. The fisherman were so happy that they gave us a plate of six fish, one for each of us. I think they made more money off of us than they do in a week catching fish, and I think they will have a story to tell for the rest of their lives. One day I am going to hear a legend about the white people who got in a pirogue...

I think Jesus loved boats a lot, too. He seemed to have a thing for fisherman as well. He called his disciples from the shore when he told them to throw their nets to the other side and they caught a crazy amount of fish after a dry streak all night long. Their calling came in a boat. 

He did the same thing after his resurrection, after they had all gone back to fishing. He showed up at the shore again and told them to cast their nets on the other side, and the same thing happened again. Their resurrected savior revealed himself and called them in a boat. 

One time when the disciples were out on the lake and a storm blew up, Jesus showed them his glory by walking on water. Another time he was aboard with them during a storm and ended up calming the sea. The wind and the waves obeyed him and his disciples were in awe. All in a boat.

Even when the crowds were too large, Jesus retreated a little and preached from a boat. 

Jesus is still teaching people in boats. Or at least I know he is still teaching me. He is teaching me to get aboard and let him guide me through the swamps and marshes. He is teaching me to find beauty in the lily pads and tall reeds instead of fearing the crocodiles. He is teaching me that no matter how much water comes in the boat, he won't let me sink. And he is showing me how he can patch my holes and sustain me. He is teaching me to keep my balance even when the ripples rocks the boat. And perhaps the simplest and most profound is this: that he is in the boat with me; he is my guide. 

We are free to adventure in this life, to take a leap of faith aboard and to enjoy the beauty of what he will show us along the way instead of fearing what lies around the next corner. Climb aboard; we have some adventuring to do.