I’ve just finished with month 10 of the race, which means I’m about to transition into the final month of my race. Month 11… I never thought it would come. And yet, here it is. Exactly 5 weeks from today, I’ll be flying into Boston Logan Airport and reuniting with my family. With home on the horizon, it’s got me thinking a lot about what life is going to be like after the race. What scares me probably more than anything else is the idea that everything is going to go right back to normal and it’s all going to be exactly the same as it was before I left. But the thing is, it can’t possibly go right back to “normal.” Because that life is no longer my normal. My idea of “normal” has been transformed. I’ve been stripped of the old normals only to have gained new ones. So, with that being said, I thought I would share with you some of the ways my “normal” has been changed over the last 10 months. Here are 13 new normals I’ve gained over the course of the race:
1. Travel days. I’m no longer phased when I’m told I have a 17 hour bus ride or flight ahead of me. Travel days are a normal part of life on the race, and they seem to have gotten longer and longer as my race has progressed. We always go for the most cost-effective method, which usually also ends up being the least time-effective. So when what was supposed to be a 24 hour bus ride turns into a 50 hour bus ride due to anything from landslides to flat tires to road blocks and getting stuck in the mud 6 times, you just learn to go with it. Our team just got finished with a 48 hour bus ride through Bolivia and we’re about to head to Peru for month 11. Tomorrow we set out on a roughly 12 hour bus ride to Cusco and then another 27 hour bus ride to Lima (assuming everything goes smoothly). That’s 87 hours of travel over the course of 5 days. Let’s go!
2. Community living. Being surrounded by people who continually push me closer to the Lord has not always been a thing in my life, and it’s probably the one thing I’ll miss most from the race. Constantly being around people who call you higher isn’t always easy. Sometimes you may find yourself sharing a small house with 21 people and all you can do is cocoon yourself away in your hammock for 10 minutes and hope nobody finds you there. Sometimes it’s being crammed in the trunk of a car with 2 of your teammates, hysterically laughing over seemingly nothing (let’s be honest, this alone is a normal on the race). Other times it’s sitting with your team and struggling through vulnerability and super feedback sessions that last 6 hours. It’s not always fun, it’s not always glamorous, but community is a beautiful thing and it’s what we were all made for.
3. Not always knowing where I’m going to lay my head at night. Sometimes it’s a wooden bench in a dirty old bus terminal where the floor is used both for collecting trash and as a bathroom. Sometimes it’s a very crowded, very uncomfortable bus where you find yourself cramped in between two of your teammates with the driver blasting party music all night long and after 16 hours you decide to climb up on top of the luggage piled up in the back of the bus and take a 5 minute power nap, and then you and several of your squadmates all get lice (should have used that tea tree oil!). Sometimes it’s a hammock, a sleeping pad, an airport floor, and on rare occasions it’s a bed (beds have been a rarity for me on the race, however other teams have slept in beds the majority of their race… it all depends on the host).
4. Drastic transition. On the World Race we live day to day and month to month. I do my best to go into each month with few expectations. About 2 weeks before leaving for our next country, each team gets a set-up sheet which gives us a very general idea of what we’ll be doing and where we’ll be living the following month. One month you may be living in a hostel amidst the dance bars and nail salons on the busiest street in Ho Chi Minh City, while the next month you’re in a rural little rice farming village teaching English in central Cambodia. One month you’re visiting mud huts on the banks of the Okavango River Delta, and the next month you’re in the projects of Capetown, South Africa. One day you’re in the sweltering African heat, and a few days later you find yourself in freezing cold temperatures somewhere in the Andes, completely unprepared for cold weather.
5. Goodbyes. This has to be the hardest part of the race. Building relationships only to pick up and leave 3-4 weeks later is never ideal and it’s never easy. The only thing that makes the goodbyes bearable is doing my best to keep an eternal perspective. It’s knowing that your goodbyes aren’t truly goodbyes, they’re see you laters. Whether in this life or the next, I know I’ll see these people again soon. And that’s what makes this whole thing worth it.
6. Rice. If I wasn’t much of a rice eater before the race, I certainly am now! Rice is a staple food in every place I’ve been to over the last 10 months, and thus has become a normal part of life on the race.
7. Being able to carry all my belongings on my back. I can fit my entire wardrobe into two packing cubes, and even that is a little excessive if I’m being honest. I can’t tell you how much stuff I’ve dropped from month to month on the race, and I could still do with so much less than what I have. Minimalistic living is incredibly liberating and it’s one normal I intend on holding on to after the race. If you haven’t tried it, I highly recommend it. Just get rid of it all!
8. Unreliable communication. Wifi around the world is not always easy to come by. Even when you do find it, it may take you 3 hours to accomplish a task that would have taken you 20 minutes back in the States (such as posting a blog or a video, or sometimes even just sending a simple email). Keeping in touch with family and friends on the race through poor internet connection and across different time zones has been incredibly difficult, but it’s also helped me to stay present where I am. The months I haven’t had access to wifi have actually been my favorite months on the race. Not to mention it makes those times when you are able to communicate that much sweeter!
9. Living on a team budget. The majority of our fundraising goes towards travel expenses, which leaves us with a fairly tight budget for food, lodging, supplies, etc. Most months we’re living on $4 per day for food, which some months is more than enough and other months is really only enough for one meal, depending on where we are and what the exchange rates and costs of food are. Some months we’re living on rice and pasta, while other months we’re eating full-out feasts every day. But no matter what, the Lord always comes through and I’m always amazed at how the He provides!
10. Being stared at. I don’t even really notice it anymore. Getting stared at, followed, begged for money, proposed to, chased down for photos with perfect strangers like you’re some kind of celebrity… it’s like that almost everywhere we go and it’s all pretty normal for me now. This is one thing I can’t really say I’ll miss after the race is over with.
11. Fashion on the race. Socks with sandals? All the time. Fanny pack? A travel day essential. Paint stains? They’re on everything. Holes in your one and only pair of jeans? It was bound to happen sometime. Does this even match? Not at all. Should I wear it anyways? Absolutely. How many layers do you have on right now? Do you think I can go until I get home before doing laundry again? Ok, I really do think it’s important to look as presentable as you can on the race. But let’s be honest, it’s month 10 and I’m running out of options here!
12. Bucket showers and other hygiene methods. Hygiene has looked a little different on the race. Washing machines are a rarity and dryers are even more rare. As are hot showers. Some months look like dumping buckets of cold water over our heads to get clean, or even bathing in the river. And even the months when we do have hot showers, living in community means it’s not always guaranteed you’ll get it before it runs out. It’s all part of the experience! At least that’s what I try to tell myself when I’m pouring cold water over my head…
13. Learning to hold my possessions loosely in my hands. I’ve had all my clothes stained with rust after hanging them to dry on metal rebar (stupid decision, I know), I’ve had two phones destroyed by water damage, I’ve had a bus drive off with my guitar, I’ve had my wallet pick-pocketed (thankfully I still have my passport), and that’s only half of it. Each month the Lord strips me and rids me of more and more, and it’s all part of calling me into greater dependence on Him and lesser dependence on the things of this world. Whenever things like this happen, this is the passage that always grounds me: “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroy and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” -Matthew 6:19-20. This is the passage I’ve clung to since month 1 of my race, and here I am in month 10 still clinging to it!
So there it is, 13 ways my “normal” has changed on the race. These are just some of the rhythms of my race, and there’s a lot more where that came from. It hasn’t always been easy, and I don’t expect my transition home to be any easier. But just as I’ve found new rhythms on the race, I know I’ll continue finding new rhythms back home and wherever it is the Lord leads me when all this is over. Month 11, here we go.
