Mud butter

I (Andy) want to thank everyone who prayed for me on my recent trip out to the bush as I went to visit the cities Ambatondrazaka & Andilamena!  We had a successful trip to Ambatondrazaka, and were able to meet with a small Baptist church there.  They even gave me some information about two people groups that I was searching for in the area.  One such people group, the Tanosimbohangy, live in a city about 150km from Ambatondrazaka—so I decided to take a ‘quick’ trip up there on Monday, January 20^th.  The story below is from my notes on the trip, with some explanations to make it more readable.

I woke early in Ambatondrazaka so that I could make the 4-5 hour trip to Andilamena, where the Tanosimbohangy people live.  I went downstairs at 5:30am to discover that my rear tire was flat!  After about 30 minutes I got the tire changed out with the spare.  I did not feel safe trying to drive on rough roads with out a spare tire so I set about finding a place to get my spare fixed.  I had to wait about 45 minutes to an hour for the mpanamboatra pneus [aka: “tire fixer guy”] to open, and then he had the tire fixed and back in the spare tire spot in no time so I was on my way shortly after 8am.  I started feeling sick to my stomach about 45 minutes into my drive.  [I should mention at this point that we had eaten at a small Malagasy restaurant the night before my trip, and the food was not kind to my stomach] About an hour later, I was able to stop at the last gas station in a town called Tanambe-for which my stomach was thankful.  Then I made my way on the bad road from the north end of the loop road around Lake Alaotra towards Andilamena.  I should have known when I passed through the intersection and there were a lot of trucks parked there, that attempting the journey any further was a mistake.  There was definitely more water (about a foot deep) than when I went tried to go through the first part of the road 2 days prior, but it was passable so I kept on. [Again, I need to mention that there was a steady rain for most of the day Sunday, and it had started again as a constant drizzle at about 9 am, making everything even more wet]   After the early water, there was a few kilometers of better road.  During this stretch, my stomach started to protest again what I had eaten the night before, so I had to find a semi-secluded place to uhm…answer the call of nature.  After that job was done, I got back on the road to Andilamena. 

Then I hit the patch of mud butter, that's the best way I can describe the 1 foot thick mud that I was driving through.  I got stuck, briefly, a couple times and then almost slid slowly off the road due to the 'mud butter;' I even considered turning around at this point but I made it through that tough stretch, and decided to keep going.  I passed another SUV coming from the other direction and asked about the road condition.  He said it was rough but passable if I stayed in the middle of the road, mainly in the ruts left by the trucks that had gone before.  I decided to continue on.  Big.  Mistake. 

I was only able to go another 200-300 meters up the road before seeing nothing but 'mud butter' up ahead, and no real path through it.  I stopped and prayed, and felt that God was telling me that I was not going to get to Andilamena that day.  I was in a spot where I was able to turn around in the middle of this muddy road and started back towards Ambatondrazaka.  The problems got worse when I returned to the bad section of 'mud butter.'  The first time through I had gotten stuck trying to go outside of the ruts left by other vehicles so this time I resolved to follow the ruts and stay out of trouble.  Things were going well early on, then my stomach started to protest again.  I was following the ruts, and went into a large puddle (average size for my driving that day).  I knew as soon as I went in I was in trouble.  This puddle was not just muddy water, it was more like the consistency of a Frosty, and it was easily three feet deep.  So here I am, stuck in the mud, unable to get out of my car because it would have then been flooded with 'frosty mud' and the pain in my stomach has been slowly building telling me that I needed to be anywhere but where I was.  I prayed, and I tried to rock the car back and forth in the puddle in order to get the momentum and maybe even the traction necessary to get free, and the prayed some more.  It felt like forever being stuck in that mud, I truly started getting scared that I would be stuck and have to abandon the truck in the middle of nowhere.  The longer the truck sat the more it would sink into the bed of mud under the Frosty puddle.  I did not even dare climbing out in order to answer nature’s very insistent call because of this fear.  At this point, the nearest village is at least 3 km away and anyone with a truck capable of pulling me out is 10km back at the large intersection.  I prayed more.  I prayed harder.  After a long time (it felt like an hour but was probably like 10 minutes) and a lot of prayer, I was able to escape the 'Frosty mud' pit.  I still had to navigate the rest of the 'mud butter' at this point-but I was praising God.  After I finally made it to a point I could stop (with hopes of being able to move again) I was able to answer nature’s insistent call sheltered by my car.  

I am truly blessed!  God delivered me from being stuck and stranded in a mud pit; there is no other explanation for my escape.  There is no other way I could have gotten out- I had no tow rope, no boards to shim under the tires and I was alone.  As I drove, safely, back to Ambatondrazaka I thought of Psalm 40 and how God had gotten me out of this mess!  "I waited patiently for The Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.  He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand." (Psalm 40:1-2, NIV)  Total dependence on God is scary, but it is so rewarding.  My reward is not being free of that slimy pit (although that is nice, too) but a closer walk/connection with Him. 

As I returned to Ambatondrazaka people were staring at me, in my mud covered car.  Usually people stare at us here because we are foreigners in their country, but they were genuinely impressed by what they thought my mud covered car signified--that I had conquered some tough road...and with God's help, I guess I had.