I am sitting on the "front porch" of the house I'm staying at in Mozambique and it just started to downpour. A couple friends of mine from the squad and I just got back from walking around Dondo and sweating ALL the moisture out of our bodies. I have never been more grateful for the rain, as I've never been this consistently hot before in my entire life. I am having a pretty huge dilemma right now in trying to decide if I should go play in the rain to A: wash my hair and body, and B: cool down. Or, do I stay out of it as to not ruin my last pair of clean-ish clothes with a fresh layer of mud? Since I am in the process of writing this blog…I think I will stay here. But I am not confident in this decision.
Since officially beginning the World Race, I've found myself in the middle of making a lot of decisions that would never have had to be made during "regular life" back home. Like, should I drink this liter of water to stay hydrated, or should I not drink it to avoid having to pee in a dirt hole with the diameter the size of a coffee cup/a toilet that doesn't flush? Should I walk to town to find internet, or should I stay here and take advantage of some much needed "me" time? Should I eat this side-of-the-road chicken because it looks delicious and I'm freaking hungry, or should I not, to heed the warnings of past Racers against salmonella?
So far, my Race has looked nothing and everything like I expected it to. I had expectations that I wanted to keep, but they are expectations that I did not keep, so when our travel time from D.C. to Dondo changed from 30 to 80 hours, I just rolled with it. When we spent 5 hours at the South Africa/Mozambique border getting our visas, we made a game out of it to see who could get the worst visa photo on the squad (I'll get mine up later) instead of whining. When we expected our first contact to have internet and it didn't work, we played cards instead. When I expected to maybe have running water and then found out we'd have to be showering with a bucket, I embraced it. (Bucket showers are actually surprisingly efficient, once you get a good system going.) When I stopped being afraid of the giant spider in the bathroom and decided to start greeting it as an old friend every time I do my business, I counted it as a victory. When I expected the chappa we took from Beira back to Dondo last week to not fall apart while riding in it, I did not have a panic attack when the window fell off and the driver acted like ,"Hey, happens all the time!"
When I expected to feel like a whole new woman once I got to Africa and it didn't happen, I accepted it.
The first couple weeks or so have not been as easy or as life-changing as I wanted them to be. I feel a bit like Mrs. Featherbottom when she decides to make a grand entrance for Maeby and ends up falling on, and subsequently breaking, the Bluth family coffee table. Unbridled enthusiasm often yields less than extraordinary results, at least in my experience.
Homesickness reared it's ugly head a lot quicker than I thought it would. I've wanted to beg them to let me go home on more than one occasion. I have not felt brave, strong, or all that capable while I've been here. The romanticized images of international travel that I had before embarking on this journey have almost completely faded. And I suppose it's not that weird. I'm in a completely new environment, different from anything I have ever experienced before. I have had almost no connection with home, only just now being able to tell them that I am here, that I am okay, and that everything is going relatively well. The reality that this is what the next year of my life is going to look like is finally sinking in, and it's a bit overwhelming. It's overwhelming, but I am refusing to let it overcome me. I am becoming okay with the fact that what I'm doing is totally ridiculous (in a good way) and that it is, perhaps more often than not, going to be weird and hard.
As the year goes on, I'm sure this all gets easier. But it's a process, and my squadmates and teammates have shown so much grace towards me and others while going through it. I don't believe the World Race is about denying your fears and your doubts and your worries, but identifying them and trusting in God to walk you through them, because really, we don't have much else out here. I believe he uses those things to shed light on other things we maybe didn't realize we needed to address. Or maybe not. I don't really know how God works; that's why I'm here. But whatever the case, it's happening, and walking through it and rising above it is kind of the only option.
I am excited for what this trip is going to mean for me. I am very quickly realizing that this year is going to be far more about the people I meet teaching me to be a better person than the other way around. I always kind of knew that would be true, but I didn't really realize the full extent of it until I got here. I am stranger here–an alien, a foreigner. The Mozambican people have accepted us with so much grace and are teaching me a lot about patience as they are patient with me. They are letting us help prepare and serve meals, even though they can do it a heck of a lot quicker. They are letting us help in many tasks which we have no experience in that they could accomplish in half the time. They are letting us into their homes, their organizations, their orphanages, and their hospitals, to show us what resilience, faith, trust, and hospitality really look like. They are showing me Christ through how they live and what they do, not through the Christianese they speak. I think we could all learn a lot from that.
Anyway, the mosquitoes are starting make an appearance so I need to head inside (side note: I have not been bitten once in the two weeks I have been here. PRAISE HIM). I hope to be blogging more frequently soon, but Mozambique is proving to be rather unreliable as far as internet goes. I promise I am doing my best! I will post more about my ministry next blog, but just to give you a taste: I am working with a ministry called Well of Jacob, run by an incredible man named Peter. He works with orphans, widows, elderly women, and sick people in the hospital. Every second so far has been humbling and awe-inspiring. Photos also to come, hopefully on my next post.
Thank you all for your continued support and prayers!
I love you all, Marta.
-Kelley
