In the house, we
find notes to us, chocolates on our pillows, a “WR We love you”
sign. Apparently, another squad, June 2009 / I squad, had been
staying at this house until August 30, two days ago. They left gifts
for us, little notes of encouragement, people we need to talk to who
they made relationships with, suggestions for beautiful views, and a
pantry and fridge full of food. The girls almost cry. “This place
is beautiful. Wow!” they all say again and again, and, “God has
us in the perfect place for us.”
I do not join in
their excitement, especially after we find out that we were actually
supposed to be in another house in a village about an hour away but
the bus driver got confused and dropped us off here. The other two
teams are at the house meant for us.
“It’s just a
house,” I think. “What June squad did for us is cool, and I
appreciate the candy. But how can you say that God ordained this,
that he actually would rather have us here than at the other place,
and that it is something bigger and more spiritual than a bus
driver’s mistake. How do you know? And what does it matter even.
We’re going to serve the same no matter what.”
I don’t say any of
this. I let the girls have their moment, staying outside to watch
the Romanian sun rise above the dark, Romanian hills.
“Joe?” one girl
says, “We’re going to lock the door. You need to come inside.”
My jaw tightens,
and my brow furrows. I hold back my angry tongue, but the
frustration shows in my rigid body.
“There’s a
balcony upstairs,” says another girl encouragingly. “We’re all
going to watch the sunrise from there!” But her consolation is like
someone trying to pour water on a grease fire. It only makes the
flames hotter. I go upstairs to the guys’ room. It is a pleasant
room, with hardwood floors, long, woven rugs, and four twin sized
beds covered with clean white sheets.
“This is nice,”
I think, “but I’d prefer to rough it in my tent. At least there
I’d have some privacy and not have to be in this dorm room.”
“Ok, you guys
need to move your stuff into the other room,” someone says. “The
girls are going to be in here.”
Too be continued…
