This last week has been really rough for me and I am still recovering to be honest…
Last weekend a bunch of my squad decided we were going to go to Antigua, Guatemala for the weekend and stay at the Hostel we stayed at during debrief weeks before. By this time we were pretty familiar with Antigua, where to get the best yet still inexpensive food, where the wifi was, and good coffee. I particularly loved being there because I knew my way around. I was in Antigua for a month on my World Race 2 1/2 years ago. It was nostalgic walking the same streets and going to the restaurants I thought I would never get to go to again. Even more so, I just spent an entire month in El Salvador in la la land. I am not great at Spanish and we were in San Salvador so being independent was out of the picture. I didn’t realize how dependent on other people I was for that month until I got to Antigua and sprouted my wings again. It felt liberating to say the least. The World Race isn’t really about independence. On the contrary, it is about living in community, walking life with one another, and helping to carry each other’s loads. Which, don’t get me wrong, I am passionate about that lifestyle… however, I have learned more and more these last months how much I like to be in control, go when I want, return when I want, eat what and when I want, and be alone when I want. (I will write more about how God is smashing my control issues some other time.) I would be lying if I said that living in community wasn’t exhausting and hard. I would ALSO be lying if I said it doesn’t bear fruit! It bears fruit alright… the fruit just comes through intentional watering and weeding.
I digress, so we left on Sunday afternoon and had to take public transportation to get back to our little village of Xenacoj, Guatemala. Public transportation in Central America is not new to me, in a weird way it is thrilling, nostalgic, and scary at the same time. Thus far, our squad has been VERY BLESSED with easy and safe travel days, so us leaders knew this was going to be an experience for them.
My co-leaders, Greg, Lauren, and I just finished up a Skype meeting with our Squad Coaches and were already late meeting the rest of our squad to leave. I shoved my iPhones (I had two, one that had everything on it but I had recently smashed the screen and the other was a back up that was meant for music but I needed to get my iCloud account on it with the wifi.) quickly into my purse with the intent of moving them into my backpack to be locked later. That didn’t happen.
After numerous attempts to find someone in the bus station who wasn’t trying to rip us all off, we walked over and loaded up on a bus heading where we needed to be. This bus, by the North American standard was full already. Every seat was taken. Somehow, we fit 22 other people on the bus, three to a seat and standing up holding the bar above our heads. Since I knew this was a new and maybe scary for some of the squad, I decided I would be a director and stand and keep my eyes on everyone. Making sure their packs were held close to them, and zippers closed. It always amazing me how Central America BUS drivers drive those things like a GO CART. I am standing in the middle isle on my tippy toes since my feet couldn’t go flat on the ground without stepping on someone’s feet. I have my back back on the front of me and my canvas purse tucked in between my chest and my backpack. I had no time to be paranoid for myself because I was watching everyone else but I felt secure and aware of where everything of mine was.
I eventually sit on the edge of a seat next to a girl on my squad, three to a seat, as usual. A lady moves up and sits on the edge of the seat across from me. Our sides were smashed together but I knew this was a normal occurrence on buses.
I don’t speak Spanish well, and when I do, I feel very vulnerable and insecure.
I decided since this lady and I were sitting so close, I should at least make small talk with her no matter how broken it was.
She started moving around a little and I checked with her if she was ok and if she needed more space. She smiled and said no and thank you. We continued to make small conversation and she even helped me figure out which stop was ours so we could switch buses. As one point in the trip, I felt my purse move and I just attributed it to the bus being packed and people were moving around. I did however, pull my arm closer to make sure my purse was tucked in.
Our stop came and I go off the bus and immediately felt a huge hole in my purse. I gasped and then felt calm because I know I never keep anything important in there.
Then I remembered that I never moved my iPhones. I stopped, bent down, and reached into the side pocked of my purse and they were gone. Not only did this lady slice a huge hole in the bottom corner (assuming the only part sticking out of my collection of belongings on the bus) of my purse, but she had to keep shoving her hand up until she felt my phones, cut another hole in the side pocket to steal them.
My squad kept walking so I had to pull my ish together because I was kind of in a haze. Apparently my co-leader Ashley, stopped and asked me what happened and I informed her that my iPhones got stolen and all I said to her was, “Freaking ninjas!” I don’t even remember saying that but I am glad I didn’t lose my sense of humor!
I DO remember feeling sick to my stomach and ready to be home. We still had to get on another bus and I didn’t know how to express to anyone that I was terrified to get on a bus again. I wanted to be able to open my mouth and say to one of our men to come stand by me but I couldn’t. I felt frozen and like I was going to either cry or throw up. I knew we were on the move so I had to take one last DEEP BREATH and climb up the back door of the school bus and take my seat. I sat down, fear stricken. All of a sudden I see one of my co-leaders jumped up on the edge of the back of the bus and stood right next me to.
I don’t really know if it they planned that or not but either way, I felt like my DEEP BREATH was the Holy Spirit interceding on my behalf in the heart of my co leader… when I couldn’t speak for myself.
We finally got to our little village and I wanted to run home and lock myself up in the room and never leave. I wanted to breathe again. I wanted to not look at people around me or see buses. EVER AGAIN.
I couldn’t do that because one of my girls was really sick so I stayed with her. I couldn’t really talk at this point still but either way I stayed.
When I finally saw the gate to our house, I felt a release and tears started to flow. My plan of locking myself up in my room was still in top priority.
That didn’t happen.
The doors were locked to our rooms. I found a spot on the grass in our backyard and sat by myself. I sat by myself because I felt like that was what I needed but I didn’t really want to be alone. Thankfully, someone came and sat next to me. Not to talk, not to process, just to sit. I found my breath again.
Many of you may be reading this thinking that I must have been really attached to my iPhones. You may be wondering why I was so shaken up by this whole experience. I felt the same way… but it wasn’t about my iPhones. I don’t care about electronics. Sure, they are comforting and useful, and they cost money, but it was so much more than that.
I felt violated.
I felt irresponsible.
I felt unsafe.
I felt the heaviness of the evil people are capable of.
I felt hurt for the world that a woman felt the need to steal to survive.
I felt like I walked myself into a vulnerable place speaking to this woman in Spanish and all she did was take from me.
I felt dumb.
I felt confused that someone who was so willing to help would take advantage of someone.
I felt like my innocence was STOLEN.
I felt mad that I would get a wave of hatred come over me.
I felt like my joy was KILLED.
My soul felt DESTROYED and I just wanted to hide.
“Satan seeks to kill, steal and destroy.”
My phones had so much of me on it. Pictures of family and friends, journal entries, my music, and contact information. I FELT EXPOSED.
I emptied what was left in my purse and I found one a little El Salvadorian toy that was a gift to me. This toy has two parts to it and it connected by a string. You have to throw the lid up and make it land on the pin. It took all month for me to get the hang of but now, I am pro. (in my eyes) I carried it everywhere I went and when I would get impatient, I would take it out and play with it. As silly as it is, it provided me with a lot of joy. It was an innocent little game that was hard at first to learn, but worth the time put it. God often speaks to me through metaphors so most things I go through my brain creates a metaphor with.
I started to pull my you out and found that she had sliced the string in half. I was embarrassed but it really rustled my emotions and I started crying. Some people thought it was just the toy but it wasn’t the toy. It was what it represented. I felt like she has stolen an innocence from me and joy. It was a physical representation of what I was going through internally. I turned in my bed and sobbed as I shoved my purse in the corner of my bed, hidden by other things. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to be reminded of that lady and the darkness in the world, or how my being vulnerable was taken advantage of. I am blessed that people on my squad came around me in my room and prayed over me.
That night, I didn’t sleep. I was playing over and over in my head the thought of a knife being so close to my body and this woman staring at the intimate things of my life. The faces of people who I care for the most. It made me sick. When I did sleep about an hour, I woke up with tears running down my face. It was terrible. On the plus side, I read through A LOT of 1 Samuel. : )
For those of you that don’t understand why I was this shaken up, I can’t either. If I try to analyze or push it away it leaves me angry, so I am taking it each day at a time processing what I can when I can. At the end of the day, I am thankful that if that was going to happen to anyone, it was me and not the members on my squad.
A few things puzzle me about that whole experience:
1) I never carry my purse outside my pack.
2) I never have more than one electronic in one spot unless it’s locked.
3) Looking back, knowing that I felt something move and I did nothing is absolutely not like me. I am very paranoid and aware of everything happening to me.
Sometimes God’s protection can come in funny ways, but I am choosing to believe that somewhere in the midst of all this God’s plan was sovereign. He knew this was going to happen and protected me in ways I will never know. For that, I need to have a posture of thanksgiving and praise.
