Salt and Silence

Bolivia is home to the world’s biggest salt desert, with over 10 billion tons of salt it is 3million acres and rests at 12,000 feet above sea level. The salt is covered in water which creates the effect of the horizon merging into the sky. With volcanoes and mountains in the backdrop, this sight draws tourists in their masses from all over the world. In January 2009 a young missionary couple, Jessica and Luke, set out with their 2 infant girls on a trip across the salt flats after preaching in a nearby town. They had been considering planting their ministry around this area and so wanted to check it out further. Knowing where they were heading, Jessica and Luke felt confident enough to go in their truck independent of tour guides. The family enjoyed the journey immensely, squealing at the sights and stopping to take advantage of some the many beautiful photo opportunities. They were a little confused when they reached the village at the bottom of the volcano they had been heading towards, to find there wasn’t a single soul there. However they weren’t completely shocked as they were both well aware that in villages like this it would often be the case that the people would be away in fields elsewhere working long days. So, as it was coming into the late afternoon Jessica and Luke decided it would be best to start on the drive back to make sure to be at the hotel before dark.
However not long into the journey the car came to a sudden jolt as the engine cut out. Concerned, Luke got out of the car and had a look under the hood. He discovered a blown fuse, and was able to replace it quickly. Nevertheless when he started the engine again the new fuse blew as well. This happened again with a third fuse, when Jessica and Luke were hit by the truth of the situation. They were stuck. Studying the map desperately they worked out that they must be around 20 miles from the entrance to the salt flats and safety. The sun was beginning to go down so the couple tried their hardest to calm their upset daughters as they settled down in their truck for a sleepless night.
Jessica and Luke spent the night praying and crying, to wake up early to a beautiful sunrise and thankfully the perfect weather conditions for the walk they were facing. Carrying a daughter each, strapped with all their water and food, a map in hand and hope in their hearts Jessica and Luke set out for the long walk ahead. The couple both wore flip flops on their feet (which shockingly never broke) and as they trudged through the many miles of solid sand covered inches deep in water the salt wore on their feet and legs and began to burn through their skin. The salt water numbed them enough to allow them to keep walking, but had it not been for the pure necessity and their desire to get their children to safety, I’m sure they may have collapsed with the pain.
After 11 painful hours of walking, the exhausted family came to “land”. They stumbled across a small thin road that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Being out of the salt water increased the huge pain they were in and it was now starting to get dark again. Looking around desperately for a possible place to sleep for the night they came across a grave yard with many tombs. Despite being told by everyone that the whole region they were in didn’t have a mobile phone reception, Luke took his from his pocket and turned it on to see if the little battery he had left would find anything. With their God looking down on them, Luke managed to find one tiny spot in the graveyard where he managed to get a signal. Unfortunately they didn’t know the area code for the closest town, but they frantically called their friends from the other side of Bolivia. Eventually they got through to a fellow missionary who acted quickly, getting in touch with friends in Uyuni (a town close to the desert) trying to explain where the lost family where. But without many landscapes, or much of a mobile reception working out their position was proving to be very difficult and a night sleeping behind a tomb was beginning to look more and more likely.
However, just as things were looking really desperate, a truck full of people returning from work for the day approached them. Jessica hobbled to the road to flag them down and explain what had happened, begging for help. Despite being a bit freaked out by the crazy white woman that had just seemed to appear from a graveyard in the middle of nowhere, the men in the truck emptied themselves out so the driver could drive the family to the town and then come back for them. Luke and Jessica were collected at the police station by a friend’s father and brother who immediately drove them to their hotel to get them washed up and into a bed, off their destroyed feet. On the journey to the road the family realised how truly blessed they were as they were told that tours don’t go out to the salt flats during this season as it was too dangerous and that may people doing it alone had in fact died there.
Within a few days Luke and Jessica had been looked after by so many people. Childcare was provided by doting women, the truck had been collected and fixed and the family had been transported from the Hotel to Sucre Hospital for proper medical attention. Never having considered Sucre as a place to start their ministry they knew of but hadn’t yet met one of their fellow missionaries, Caroline. Caroline came to the hospital to visit the couple and after their immediate medical needs were addressed she offered to take them to her home were they could rest (neither could walk properly and Luke would be bed-ridden for a few weeks yet).
As the family rested in Caroline’s house they met the community she worked with; the deaf community of Sucre. Everyday Luke was visited in is sick bed by more and more of the local deaf men and women, offering him kindness and company. For most people this might have been difficult due to a possible break down in communication. However, God had prepared Luke for this long ago, and in fact he had made a deaf friend at 8 years old when he learnt to sign. From then on his life had been filled randomly with more and more signing deaf friends. Luke has therefore been a signing interpreter many times before for many years.
It was slowly revealed that as Caroline is single, the community really wanted a couple to come and set up a church for the deaf in Sucre. After some time of healing and prayer Jessica, Luke and their two beautiful daughters moved to Sucre to start laying the foundations for what looks like it is going to be an excellent church for the deaf.
Hearing this incredible story through our friends, Laura, Banny (our Spanish teacher, who is currently learning sign language) and I attended a service with them on Sunday. Laura and I have been to many services over the year where they are preaching in a different language and so we were happy to just sit back and take it in. But amazingly Luke was able to sign in Bolivian sign language and speak in English and sometimes switch to Spanish when necessary! It was a brilliant experience, especially as we tried to join in the worship: signing the words to a worship song together.
We also seemed to be in the right place at the right time as the deaf community were having a deaf awareness march the very next day which we were invited to participate in. The purpose of the march was to tell people that these people are deaf and in no way did that mean stupid. In many of the rural areas in many countries (including Bolivia) deaf children can be seen as a curse and are never given a way to communicate with the world, and rather are used as slaves or hidden completely from the world.
The march was so good, but it was strange for us to be involved in something like this that was done in silence! We are so used to the big marching bands! But they seemed to make a real impact. Leaflets with the symbol for love (see photo of me and Laura) were handed out with the slogan “my eyes can hear you and my hands can talk to you”, with leaflets with the alphabet in Bolivian finger spelling. At one point a group of older men stopped what they were doing to face the march and clap slowly as a sign of appreciation.
Despite how fun the past few days have been for us, how much we’ve learnt and how happy it made us that these brave people have the courage to march for their rights, we were told that there are still an estimated 8000 deaf people unaccounted for in Bolivia. Either they are embarrassed, in denial, or hidden. Whatever the reason, I pray for these people to know how loved they are and how fully human they are.
One thing that does continue to encourage and motivate me around the world, is despite the language, the country or the communication barriers we have come across, the sound of laughter and the appreciation of a warm smile is universal. And even if that laughter can’t be heard by some, the release it brings is understood by all.