Kunamp

On Saturday Jacobey and I piled into the car with eight other people from church and we made an hour and a half trek into the jungle to the town of Kunamp.  This trip took us through the city of Puyo, down the main road southward toward Macas, off of a relatively new paved road leading further into the foliage, across the huge Pastaza River, and down a thin, bumpy road taking us to a remote little village of about 150 people living far from any semblance of civilization. 

This is the Pastaza River about a 10 mile walk from their village:

This is one of the nicer homes in Kunamp.  All of the homes are made of wooden boards nailed together placed on a wooden floor about two feet off of the ground.  There is no glass in any of the spaces that we would call windows.  There is no running water in any of the homes.  There are no bathrooms and no kitchens. Needless to say, no one in the community owns a car, a cell phone, a television, a computer, or any number of modern conveniences. 

The community was full of moms, dads, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and many kids who all knew one another intimately.  Kunamp is apparently the family name of the person who originally set up camp here.  In essence, this village is the Kunamp family living life in a humble setting amidst their relatives. 

The purpose of our coming to Kunamp was to deliver the Christmas Boxes that Samaritan's Purse collects every fall.  Our church here in Ecuador pays the $1/box Custom's fee and then transports nearly 40 boxes to the children of this community.  Even though every child in the village is not 5-9 years of age, as their particular box states, every one of them is more than thrilled to get all the items included therein.  Jacobey helped to pass the boxes out to these shoeless, patient, poor children of the jungle.  Doubtless, these were the only things the kids received for 'Christmas'.

This precious little girl received a stuffed dog which I'm certain will be her treasure for years to come. 

After the children pulled out their toys, toothpaste with toothbrushes, crayons, clay, pens, notepads, and other assorted items, they ran off to show their family members and enjoy their gifts.  Meanwhile the community leaders prepared to place lunch before us.  They moved five school-type desks end to end in the middle of the house where we pulled up our wooden chairs.  Then they sat a steamed banana leaf before each of us which contained a chicken and hearts of palm mixture with a few large pieces of yucca.  Mine had a whole peeled banana as well.

Then they passed around a bowl of salt for sprinkling and a bowl of sliced chives in water to give it a little extra flavor.  Honestly, this was one of the best meals I have had since coming to Ecuador.  It truly was delicious!

Once we ate to our heart's content, we prayed over the family members who hosted us in their home (which doubles as the community church), and we began to move toward the car.

I snapped a quick picture of Jose who so sweetly lingered around us greatly proud of the gifts he'd just received. . .

. . . Caught a shot of Cobey carrying a bunch of bananas one of our hostesses had given him. . .

. . . And a few last pictures of the gracious people of Kunamp (which for some reason I cannot download now....)

 

It struck me that during our four and a half hours there, we spent time with people who rarely if ever had seen an American, who didn't have all the things that our culture would insist are necessary for happiness, and who had extremely little in the way of true necessities.  They pulled their drinking water from a nearby stream which is also where they bathe, wash clothes, and play on a hot day.  These natives to South America really have no need for all the trappings that we do. They have an old worn out soccer ball, plenty of mud and rocks and sticks, a huge family full of people that love them, and the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ.  (They even sang to us "I have decided to follow Jesus" in their own Shuar language.)   

 

Meanwhile my own kids, who have spent nearly two years without television, the vast majority of their things, and most of the modern conveniences they're used to, long for the use of a computer, an Ipad, or an Ipod when they are away from them.  Oddly, it's my kids who 'feel poor' while the Kunamp kids do not.  My kids notice when they are giving things up and when they go without.  (So do I.)

 

Makes me consider what true poverty is.  The Kunamp kids may appear poor to us, but to them I wonder if they believe the same. 

 

Could true poverty be a lack of contentment and gratitude for the things you already possess? 

 

If we were to use that definition, then my guess is that the vast majority of Americans would be 'poor'. We may have a multitude of things, stuff, objects, but are we content in saying that it's enough?  Interesting. 

 

If you don't need it, and aren't using it, then give it away.  Let someone else have it.  You may find that true wealth is experienced when you have less stuff and more of what the people of Kunamp have:  family, love, space, and Christ (the only things that you can take with you when you go......)

 

Thanks for reading.  Blessings, kim