Straatmeyers report on the legend of "Wasilla" the truck

Editor's note: Gene and Jean Straatmeyer have spent almost a year in South Africa working with a church there. The following is part one of a two-part excerpt from one of their online journals. The Straatmeyers return to Alaska Sept. 22.

Before we arrived in Malawi, the Reformed Church in America asked us if we could buy a car so that elders would not have to transport us everywhere. We agreed. When we arrived, we found out that Abusa Mnthambala didn't have a vehicle. Since we were sent pictures of the church and manse before we arrived, and saw a picture of a manse with a nice vehicle in the driveway, we assumed it belonged to Abusa Mnthambala. It didn't. We discovered that he had to do a lot of walking, which is time consuming, and elders or friends had to "collect him," as they say here, to take him to the Prayer Houses for worship.

We told the Session we would contribute the money we would have used on an automobile if the church would buy the vehicle. Then, when it was time for us to leave, Abusa Mnthambala would have transportation for this widely scattered parish. The Finance Committee decided what the church needed was a pickup with four doors and a short bed.

A church member who brings in cars from Japan and South Africa was given the task of finding such a vehicle for the congregation. She found exactly what the church needed and drove the South African-made 1994 Ford Courier back to Malawi. One of the things she included was a painted sign on each front door that said, "Lingadzi CCAP," Area 12, Box 30009, Lilongwe 3, Malawi." Now when we come to a police barricade, they read the door, see that the abusas are wearing the collar and wave us on.

When everything was said and done, Abusa Mnthambala handed me the keys and said that I was to take it home to Manse II and put it in the garage. I responded, "But you are Abusa No. 1 and you should have the vehicle at your home." He responded, "I don't know how to drive." With the purchase of the pickup, the Session set aside money for him to learn at one of the many "driving colleges" they have in Malawi.

I gave the truck its unofficial name, "Wasilla" because Jean and I are from Wasilla and some of the funds for the pickup came from the Wasilla's First Presbyterian Church. Let me share where Wasilla has gone and what Wasilla has been doing the last 11 months.

Probably Wasilla's most important job came during the second distribution of food to the people in the area of our Prayer Houses. The Kadawi Prayer House is the most remote, and one can get there one of two ways. The first way is the long way and it involves going past the Mkoma Prayer House, which is 15 kilometers from where we live. Once past Mkoma, the road deteriorates into a bicycle and foot path with many washouts and gullies in the road. The real obstacle is a railroad track that has to be crossed if one is to get to Kadawi. The grade going up to the track is too steep on both sides, with the result being that either a vehicle gets hung up on the railroad tracks, or damage is done to the underside.

We hired a truck to haul maize to the Prayer Houses. Kadawi was the last Prayer House to which the maize was delivered. We took the long route. The driver was doing fine until he got to the railroad tracks and the truck got hung upon the tracks. He was able to back off but would go no further. We had perhaps 15 bags of maize to deliver. The maize was hand-carried to the other side of the track and then I proceeded to position the truck to get as good an angle as I could to cross over. I made it over without any scraping of the under carriage or getting hung up. I had to make two trips to Kadawi from the tracks. Seven or eight bags of maize in the small box really was more than Wasilla could handle, but she made it in spite of having to go through a deep washout.

The other way to get to Kadawi is to drive Wasilla through the river. Since Wasilla is only a 4-by-2, that is easier said than done. But last November Jean and I went to conduct a Sunday worship service at Kadawi and taking the long way there, the railroad crossing caused a great deal of anxiety because the bottom of the truck really sounded like the tracks would take out everything.

After the service the elders said I should go through the river so I attempted it. There were some boys swimming there so I got out and asked them to wade where I would have to drive. It was two feet deep and the river bank on the other side was rather steep and sandy. So I told everyone to hang on because I had to get a good run to make it up the opposite bank. Jean covered her eyes, I gunned it, we made it through the water, and with wheels spinning, we made it up the far bank and went home the short way which is about half the distance as the long way.

Wasilla also went through another river, smaller than the one at Kadawi. We hadn't had her long when I decided that I should go out and visit our guard, Mr. Nkhoma, who had been beaten by thieves. Since I didn't know where he lived in the Kauma area, I took Mr. Banda, the church clerk, along to show me the way to the house. We came to a bridge, but Mr. Banda said we couldn't go across because the bridge was too narrow. Here the river had a granite bottom and the water was only a foot deep.