What’s the one thing you’re most curious about?
If that one thing has to do with my year on the Race, you’re in luck! People have asked me these questions, and I have these answers.
What has been your favorite country?
It’s hard to compare them to each other! But I have a special place in my heart for Bulgaria, which feels so homey and so foreign and where I can blend in so easily. And I loved Thailand, with all the colors and markets and spicy foods and friendly people.
What do you think you might be interested in doing after the Race is over? More school, a job, etc? I wondered if this trip has changed what you are interested in.
That’s the big question. I’m sure I’ll write more about this later, but here are some initial thoughts:
I want and expect my post-Race life to be wilder than my current life.
I wondered if the Race would change my interests, but it has only deepened the ones I already had: living in community, studying languages, world religions, music, the arts. While I deeply appreciate the ministries I’ve been a part of this year, I don’t feel a strong calling to return to any of them at this point. For all the traveling we’ve done, my heart is pulled back to America and the needs I can relate to.
As far as practical plans go, I want to get a job and make some money. I don’t really care what kind of job. I just want a job. If you have a job for me, please hire me. I promise to have a good attitude and wear long pants so people don’t get grossed out by all my mosquito bite scars. Right now, the prospect of working and investing in a place longer than a month is pretty appealing.
I love school, but it’s not time to pursue an advanced degree or anything now. (Though today, God blessed Tony and me with the opportunity to sit in on a four-hour Reformation history lecture. We loved it. It was the quickest four hours of the month.)
Money-making aside, I want to get involved with theatre again. I love acting. I love accompanying musicals. I miss being part of a theater community and I want to get back into it. That’s a place that feels scary to go, scarier than a Mozambique border. And that’s where I think I need to go.
There are other, smaller things I want to do:
I want to play the piano a lot. It’s been almost a year without much music for me, and I miss playing.
I want to get rid of a lot of my stuff and sell it or give it away. Having less is better.
I want to go to the grocery store and buy a block of Tillamook Cheddar Cheese.
I want to drive a car.
I want to wear bulky sweaters and boots.
I want to read my real, physical books.
When exactly do you return home?
Between Thanksgiving and Christmas. There are some on the squad squad who plan to surprise their family members, so I’m not putting any official dates up online.
What was the most interesting think you learned during monk chat last month?
The most common question I think the monks get asked at monk chat is, “What do the colors of your robes mean?” Monks wear orange, yellow, and brown robes, and every time someone asked this, our monk would sigh and repeat his answer: “It doesn’t matter. The colors mean nothing. We can choose.” I think they’re tired of answering this question, so let me do you a favor: if you ever are in Thailand talking to a monk, don’t ask him about his clothes.
We talked to one monk who actually grew up in a Christian home and converted to Buddhism! I hadn’t met any Thai people who had done that. This monk seemed pretty unsatisfied with his life as a monk: I asked him what his favorite story about the Buddha was, and he said, “I don’t know. I’m not interested. I know more about Jesus.” I asked if he planned to become a Christian again, and he said, “I don’t know. I think I want to make money.” It was awkward, and interesting, because most of the other monks we talked to, you know, seemed to like being Buddhist.
Does your passport now have tons of stamps on it?
Yes. I counted a couple months ago, and I had received 19 stamps since January. I’m saving the final figure for an upcoming blog.
What is you favorite memory with Heidi Aguirre?
There are too many favorite memories with my teammate Heidi, who submitted this question and is pictured below, doing what she does best (squeezing cute things).
This is the most recent of my favorite memories with Heidi Aguirre.
Last month in Chiang Mai, we had to be home by midnight. One night around 11:45 p.m., Heidi, Jayce, and I were staying up, messaging each other on our phones in two different bedrooms (well, Jayce was in a different city). We mentioned that we were both hungry and one of us suggested going out to buy some snacks. We sent some smiley faces and “lol”s, but then things got serious:
Chelsea: I’m hungry and breakfast is in like 10 hours.
Heidi: Ha ha, Chelsea, let’s go run to the market and get something!
Chelsea: Yeah, I’m going to the market now.
Heidi: Robyn just texted me that she’s hungry too.
Chelsea: But it’s closing now.
Seriously, do you wanna get food?
Heidi: We have 14 minutes. Yes I do!
Chelsea: Really?
Jayce: Better go now! Get your pad thai on!
Chelsea: Heidi, I’m serious. If you want I will be there right now outside my room.
Heidi: I’m coming. Bye Jayce!
Jayce: Haha.
So with minutes to spare, we ran to the night market, found everything closed, and went into a 24-hour 7-11, where we bought cookies and pastries and ate them on the way back to bed. It was the best midnight snack of the Race.
Can people pronounce your name?
Not at first. The “ch” and the “el” throws a lot of people off. But then I say, “Like the football club,” and without fail, my new acquaintance says, with perfect pronunciation, “Oh, Chelsea! I will remember that!” My parents must have known their daughter would travel to countries where they love football.
From what you’ve experienced and seen so far, what do people have in common that effectively minister to others? Are there certain character traits, personality types, habits, outlooks that you’ve been noticing make a difference?
The people I’ve seen who minister most effectively are bold enough to be a little awkward. They respect cultural differences but aren’t threatened by them. They are interested in people more than projects and are willing to be interrupted so they can take care of others. They have a good sense of humor because everyone in the world loves to laugh. They are willing to do things they’re not good at. They are joyful, kind, and happy to sacrifice their comfort for another’s.
What food experiences gave you the most challenges?
Ah, food. One of my favorite topics (up there with “My Water Intake” and “My Poop”). I expected to eat a lot of really crazy things on the Race, but that hasn’t been the case. If you saw the way I eat daily, you wouldn’t see any tarantulas or grubs (unless you were with me last Monday), just a lack of discretion. I can eat all the meat off any part of a chicken now. If ants get in my food, I flick them off. If they’re small and hard to see, I leave them. Our food budget of $5 a day each sometimes results in some strange meals: the other night all we had left for dinner was bread and potatoes. We have had very little control over what we eat this year, and for me, as long as I’m feeling healthy, I’m fine with that.
Still, I’d say that El Salvador was the hardest, food-wise. It was the first time on the Race that we ate rice and beans three times a day, and our bodies weren’t ready for it. We ended up moving some of our money around to invest in yogurt, because a lot of us weren’t feeling so great. That was also the month of the chicken foot soup, which was of one my least favorite foods this year.
There were also some times in Africa where we were fed this limp meat with the texture of a sea anemone from I don’t know where on I don’t know what animal. But that happened rarely enough that it was only ever interesting, not challenging.
Do you write a daily journal? When?
I have written voluminously on the Race. My blogs are the (presentable, intelligible) tip of the iceberg. I have a thick leather journal that I write in and use as a scrapbook, and I also keep a journal on my computer, which has about 90,000 words on 250 pages.
I didn’t start journaling on the Race. I have been writing like that for about five years now. I don’t make myself write daily, and I don’t set aside a time to do it, and I don’t write about any subject in particular. I just write when I want to, and the write–I mean, right–stuff comes out.
What have you learned about “navigating” relationships through the team experiences?
A lot. Some of us describe living on a team as being involuntarily married to six random people. That’s a lot of dynamics to navigate, but for now, let me focus on just one facet of team life: giving and receiving feedback.
Feedback is a huge part of our lives on the Race and you may have heard me mention it before. Each team has an opportunity every day to give each other feedback, which can be positive (“You are really strong in this area”) or constructive (“You have room for growth in this area”). We’re supposed to format our feedback into three sections: observation, example, suggestion. So, a piece of positive feedback could look like this: “I’ve noticed that you have a gift for serving people. For example, you are consistently the first person to volunteer for dish duty. I’d encourage you to keep having that helpful attitude, because it sets a good example for the rest of us.”
Positive feedback like that has always been fun, because I like giving and getting compliments. But giving and receiving constructive feedback scared me, because I didn’t want to feel judged or criticized, and I didn’t want to find faults in others. But I’ve come to value constructive feedback even more than positive feedback, because that is what leads to real growth and trust between team members, and it has allowed me to have a deeper level of grace and acceptance for myself and others.
It takes courage to notice something in another person that isn’t Christlike and bring it to their attention. It can be difficult, and awkward. But when done from a place of love and patience instead of offense or judgement (if you are addressing a person’s action that has somehow hurt you, you are to wait until you’re calm enough to address the issue non-combatively), constructive feedback is incredibly encouraging.
Constructive feedback, or, as people may call it in the real world, honesty, is not naturally a part of many relationships. We notice things about other people that hurt us or trouble us, but we ignore those things or complain about them or gossip about them instead of actually loving people enough to address them and move forward and closer together.
In my case, it’s also difficult to give constructive feedback because I don’t naturally notice areas for growth in people immediately. So for those of us who can be a little oblivious, being in a culture that gives feedback reminds me to keep my eyes open and be involved in my teammates’ lives.
The greatest lesson I’ve learned from receiving feedback is the importance of having grace. It’s not easy to be told you’re lacking in areas, and feelings of bitterness or denial towards the friend who spoke to you can creep up, as well as doubts about your own worth as a friend, worker, and individual. But in those times, I remember that Jesus didn’t come to condemn the world, but save the world, and as his followers, we aren’t here to condemn each other but build each other up.
So when people point out a flaw in me, I’m learning to thank them for having the courage to speak up, and then to take what they have said to God. Because once the feedback has been said, it’s not between you and a teammate. It’s between you and God. You think about it, you pray about it, and you ask God if this feedback is true and needs to be worked on, or if it’s something that you can let go.
(And by the way, I’ve noticed that the feedback that upsets me the most is the feedback that is the most true.)
When you feel convicted by a piece of hard feedback, it is especially important to be kind with yourself. Sure, you should work on your tone of voice when you’re frustrated, or make more of an effort to spend time with real people instead of on Facebook. But seeing room for improvement does not mean that you are not valuable or loved or effective! In fact, if I’m not getting constructive or positive feedback regularly, I take that as evidence that I’m taking enough risks and engaging with our ministry sufficiently.
Constructive feedback reminds me that we all fail sometimes, and that’s okay. There’s a lot of freedom that comes from living in a community that fails together, and helps each other in their weaknesses, and accepts correction with grace. That kind of honesty and courage and trust takes time to develop, but when it all finally clicks, it’s something you want to take with you everywhere. It’s one of the most beautiful parts of community life on the Race, and something that many of our other communities and relationships are sorely lacking.
Where have you seen the Gospel come alive?
I have seen the Gospel in all its life-giving, life-saving, lie-shattering, kingdom-bringing loving power of God just about everywhere. Here are some of the places I personally have seen the it the clearest.
I’ve seen the Gospel come alive in conversations, be they with teammates, Christians or non-Christians, people back home, or people we meet; be they easy or difficult, be they thought-provoking or frivolous. We’re not following Jesus on our own; we are the Church. Diving into our community is what we were made for.
I’ve seen God’s power to redeem, resurrect, and restore us when I hear my teammates’ stories and share my own.
I’ve seen the Gospel in the astonished faces of so many people we meet, who can’t believe that our squad isn’t from just one place, or one denomination.
I’ve seen the Gospel in the generosity and hospitality of the countless houses I’ve set foot in. We have been offered seats and food as our hosts sit on the floor serving it to us, honored that we’ve come to visit them. Seeing that makes you think about what you’re doing there.
I’ve seen the Gospel in the astonishing beauty of our earth. I’ve seen volcanos, oceans, forests, snowy mountains, dust, fields, trees, rainbows, double rainbows…
I’ve seen the Gospel in slums, orphanages, buffets, and a Prada store.
And I’ve seen the contentment, selflessness, and love of the Gospel in my team’s ability to effortlessly split a single precious chocolate bar between seven people.
Here are some more places I’ve seen the Gospel.
Somewhere along the Malawi-Mozambique border
Snow in Bulgaria
Some of our kids in Honduras
Good ol’ Team Oak doing what it does best: hanging out
One of the King’s trees in Chiang Mai
It has been an incredible 10 months, and it’s not over yet!
