Sunshine Orchards: The Journey and First Glimpse

There’s a strange sort of steam in the air. Rain pours down on the roof of the house, and water drips from the eaves. The windows are all open; I can hear strange insects. A little boy with dark hard and dark skin is sitting on a bench near me, looking at the pictures in a book.

Welcome to Sunshine Orchards, Heidi.

We left Seattle at 2 am on Monday morning, and arrived in Bangkok at about 11 pm on Tuesday morning. We spent one night in Ayuttyah, with a lovely missionary couple. We travelled to Tak, in the province of Tak, and spent the night there. It all seems like one colorful blur now.

After a long and eventful day, we arrived at my new home last night. Our Thursday consisted of getting up at the crack of o’dark thirty to leave the hotel we’d stayed at and finding that our car would not start for love or money. We push-started it, with the help of a couple of Thais who couldn’t speak hardly any English. I had to concede after we push-started the car for the second time that day that stick-shift cars really did have a plus to them. They’re still anathema in my estimation, but not so much anymore.

Long hours of driving later, we got to Mae Sot, the largest and closest town to Sunshine Orchards. It was reminiscent of the crowdedness of the Philippine streets I experienced once upon a time. Mrs. Steck, Hannah and Sharon and I were dropped off to do some shopping while our faithful car was taken in for an operation.

Ever walked the streets of an Asian town? It’s quite the experience. For some reason, there’s something that just makes it stand out so much from walking other streets.

Some hours later, we were waiting for Mr. Steck to come pick us up and take us back to the car dealership, where the estimated finish time for the operation was a daunting 4 pm. It was possibly 10 am. The four of us “phalong” women were approached by a group of teenage boys in school uniforms, with an English project we assume. They had us fill papers out, then recorded an interview with us on a cell phone, and then had their pictures taken with us. I have to say I laughed about it. I’m just a white person; what’s so special about that? You just have to shrug your shoulders and go on.

Up winding roads, over potholes, and past places where the road had entirely been washed out by rain, we finally made it. Last night’s glimpse of the house that is to be my home for the next 7 months didn’t really surprise me: but almost daunted me. However, this morning has brought a different light.

We had worship with the children this morning. I admit, I felt out of place. But all of these precious faces; all of the smiles: you can’t help but love them, though they wouldn’t understand you if you tried to talk to them. During worship, it began to rain, and when it was finished, Hannah and I ran through it back up the hill to the house, shielding our Bibles from the rain. Forget the hair—the Bibles are more important.

Breakfast was eaten on the porch: two kinds of curry and rice, and a banana muffin from Mae Sot. A banana muffin the size of a soft ball, no less. I finished it—barely—and settled into a hammock after awhile.

After taking a nap with a cat curled up (or stretched out, it depended) next to me and on me in the hammock, little faces appeared around me. I got up, met a couple of the ladies who work here and some children from the children’s home, read a story to little Ju-Ju and wished I knew how to speak Karen. I think I have enough incentive to learn now.

So, here I am. School starts in probably a week.

What am I doing?

I sure don’t know. But God does. He’s brought me here for a reason—and He’s going to see to it that what needs to happen does.

Half of this Friday still awaits me. What will it bring?

Who knows.

Only God.

And really, that’s all that matters. 

Me and my family before leaving Seattle at 2 am.

In the Taipei airport. The funny designers put the outlets over in the square posts by the main hallway, not by the chairs, so guess what? We sat in the aisle instead of in the chairs. 

Hannah :)

Sharon, Hannah, and I's sleeping place in Ayuttayah (or however you spell it).

The fivesome before leaving for Tak.

Hannah again. :)

Street view in Ayuttayah.

Our hotel room in Tak.

Sharon in our hotel room. :)

 A Karen boy.

A shrine. You cannot go very far without seeing one of these. Nearly every home, and even every business has one outside the building somewhere. The bigger the establishment, the bigger the shrine. Oh, if only each one of them could know and accept the truth of the matter...

Rear-view mirror view of Sharon in Mae Sot.

I promise I only laid down to be out of the way... But then Thurston jumped up on me; and the rest is history.