On the Back of a Motorcycle

About a year or two ago, under the well-trained eyes of Chinese engineers, a road was completed on Clove Island.  The road climbs over a pass and down into the central valley called the “bowl” and then out over a second pass before winding its way down to the southern end of the island and the sea.  It essentially cuts the island in half, and is a marvel of Chinese engineering.  

New road

The road is steep and winding, but it is well built  and will hopefully hold up over time (though that is still to be seen).  As it slices and winds its way through the mountains, the majesty and beauty of jungle cliffs and forests surround you in their powerful ascents and cloud catching wonder.  It is simply breathtaking. 

For the past few weeks, I’ve had the joy of experiencing these views from possibly the very best place to enjoy them—the back of a motorcycle.  Although Megan has her motorcycle license, I, Tom, have never learned (although I’m starting to think I should).  So when I agreed to do a teacher training on the south-side of the island, the cheapest and easiest solution to get me there was to put  me on the back of a motorcycle.  It may not be the most comfortable place to sit for an hour and a half, and there are always safety concerns with a motorcycle (don’t worry, the driver is cautious, and I had a helmet). But there is nothing to rival the freedom from concern for the road (I’m not driving) and unhindered view like the back of a motorbike.  I’ve never experienced anything quite like it and it was splendid.

Ready to ride

More than once on this drive, I have been so struck by the beauty of these mountains I’ve felt like singing, praying and giving thanks to God for creating such wonders and allowing me to see it.  But there is, as so often is the way in this world, a darker side to this beautiful road.  The road cuts through the center of the island—through places that were once a long, hard walk on steep trails.  Now cars, vans and motorcycles can easily reach these remote, previously untouched places and the results have quickly become apparent. 

New farmland

One of the realities of life on Clove Island is that despite being a remote, tropical island there is almost no solitude.  Everywhere you go there are people.  People need food, so they grow on every available inch of land even at tremendously steep grades.  People need firewood for cooking fires, so they harvest wood wherever they can.  The weekends are the times when most people go to the fields, and my trainings in the south of the island have all been on Sunday afternoon, so from the back of the motorcycle I see them working the fields, harvesting crops, carrying firewood.  Men, women, children, working hard, resting by the road with a heavy load waiting for pick up.  I see the vans topped with firewood and fodder.  I see farmers loading up the backs of their motorcycles with huge loads and my heart breaks.  I cannot blame them.  They are feeding their families.  What choice do they have?  But I see the cleared hills that I know were once forest.  I see the hills too steep to climb being tilled and planted, and I wonder where it will all end and what can be done about it.

Why do so many things in this world have to come with a dark side?  Why can’t a road just be a good thing?  Why does exploration always seem to be followed by exploitation?  Why does tilling a field and feeding a family, have to come at the cost of something else?  It is the way of this broken world.  But on the back of a motorcycle, I can look at the clouds drifting over the mountain tops, hiding their peaks and then revealing them like some sublime game of hide and seek, and I’m reminded that there is something bigger at work; that brokenness can be healed; that it will not always be a zero-sum game; that there is still hope.   
 
PRAYERS ANSWERED
The busy wedding week went well— our teammates spent a lot of time helping with wedding prep and were able to be a good support to the bride. Tom’s training class has gone well in spite of the long motorcycle ride to get there each week.  A local brother’s wife (who has long been isolated from the local body) attended a recent meeting about childrearing— we hope this is just the beginning of her being more connected.


PRAYERS REQUESTED
Our medical teammates have finished the first two weeks shadowing at the hospital and so far have had the energy they’ve needed, but please keep praying for them. Pray especially for our one teammate who has been struggling with insomnia linked to her long COVID. One island brother lost his mother and a contingent will be visiting his family this week to give our condolences— pray that the visit could be a comfort to him.  Continue to pray for the men Tom is meeting with each week, that they would come and that the time together would be fruitful. A number of teammates had opportunities to pray with and for island friends.  May we see answered prayers and open hearts.