When a mango falls on a tin roof it makes a very loud noise. In case you didn’t know, a building with a tin roof is basically a big percussion instrument for nature to beat on with rain, sticks, mangos, and everything else that can drop from the sky. Anyways, after a night of little sleep, we got up early and went to church.

I always forget how different church is in foreign countries. It’s a totally different kind of worship, a different language– in general, just a different way to do church. But I am reminded it is not God ‘s desire to be worshipped with a language spoken by the mouth, but by a language expressed through a broken and humbled heart, laid completely before Him. We left church early to begin our journey up the mountain and into El Cielo.

The first part of our trek consisted of a two-hour drive up the side of the mountain where we reached a small town tucked away in the solitude and safety of its elevation. After loading our supplies on the packhorses we mounted the horses that would carry us. It was time to start the real journey: a two-hour hike to El Cielo on horseback.

None of us had ever ridden a horse so it was pretty amusing to watch everyone mount up.

But the next two hours were indescribable. Pictures did not do the landscape around us any justice– it was beautiful. You would have to go there to really understand just how awe inspiring it is.

It didn’t take us long to find out it rains a lot up there. And I don’t mean a sprinkle or drizzle– I don’t even think saying it poured would be an accurate description. We were in a tropical jungle– it was like someone poured the entire ocean on us all at once. But after a wet, steep, dangerous, and most importantly, unforgettable horse ride, we made it to El Cielo.

We instantly knew the reason why it was given its name.

One minute you see the entire valley down below you, and then the next, a cloud would cover the entire mountain and you couldn’t see 20 feet in front of you. It was one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever laid eyes on.

We all stayed in a little wooden schoolhouse at the bottom of a hill. Its floors were made of dirt and its tin roof sheltered us from the rain. While there was still enough light to see by, we set up all eight of our hammocks inside of the 12x18 schoolhouse.

We set up the projector in the school and let all of the kids watch a Veggie Tale movie as we were waiting for dinner. During the movie, Michael (our host) and me stood outside and talked about these people have no idea what life is like outside of these mountains. They don’t know how plentiful life would be in America. They were born on the mountain. It’s all they know and probably all they’ll ever know. But I think they’re better off on the mountains then most of us are in America. They may not have a lot, but they do have what matters. Our nation is among the richest in the world and we have the material possessions to show it. But I think any culture that focuses on the stuff they have­ or don’t have, instead of the people that are right there in front of them, is a poor one. And as an American I feel I can say that we are the poorest among the nations. We will never be satisfied with what we have, and will never find what we don’t have: true community.

After the battery on the projector died we went up the hill for dinner.

We had a tasty meal of rice, beans, and boiled plantains by lantern light. We had rice and beans for every meal over the next couple of days.

After eating dinner, and saying thank you to our mountain family, we walked back to our home away from home away from home in the school. Everyone got as cozy as they could in their hammocks and prepared for a cold, windy night.