To change up my blogs a bit, I felt the need to capture what a day in the life of a Racer looks like…
Welcome to a cross-country travel day:
[Disclaimer: this blog is rather long. I confess to be quite detailed in my recounting of events, so feel free to take this blog in shifts, or with a strong cup of coffee, or all at once if something more pressing demands your attention and you – like me – are in desperate need of an outlet of procrastination)
Setting, Plot & Cast of Characters: Team Brady & Team Arrow travel to their to their December ministry destination in Los Chiles, Costa Rica – located a mere 90 miles away from their current location in the hip and beautiful city of Granada, Nicaragua.
Begin: 8:30 am, Monday morning, December 6th. Four hours before both teams needed to be on the ferry headed to San Carlos, Nicaragua.
The Hostel Cocibolca lobby table was full of Arrow & Brady team members munching on
frosted flakes, sipping coffee, and journaling in an attempt to procrastinate as long as possible on their neglected packing…or maybe that was just me! True to form, I left my packing till the morning of, so I reluctantly left my coffee and journal at the table to pack. Rebecca welcomed me into the room with “Mary, I don’t understand how your stuff got so unpacked�. It was true. My bed looked like an REI table at the end of a Scratch & Dent sale. The explosion was even spilling onto the floor.
After a deep breath and a no-mercy-pack- cramming session, I left to walk with Tracy to the post office to mail a package home. It took 2 hours to send two boxes home. 2 hours. It was enough time to hear the entire life story of the two post office employees, eat Panini’s, do some shopping in the market, and have Lindsay and Ashley look for us for fear that we’d been kidnapped. No fear dear team mates, I thought, we simply spent the greater part of our morning enjoying the technologically behind the times, no sense of efficiency, slow and friendly pace of the Central American “business system�. After an added muffin and coke, we said goodbye to our now dear post office friends and joined our team at the hostel to strap on our packs and trek down to the ferry port.
It was 1:00 when we entered the large, single roomed warehouse where a mass of people snaked their way through weighing bags and checking tickets; we had morphed back in time and were about to board the Titanic, or at least that’s how it felt. We checked packs, got on 
the ferry and Dex and Phil instantly set up their hammocks on the side of the boat while Ash, Nikki & I cuddled up in the corner and instantly fall asleep before the beat even left port. At 3:00 we set sail, but I was blissfully unaware that our sea journey had begun until my tranquil catch up of sleep was violently stripped away via a HUGE wave breaking over the side of the ferry and crashing down upon us. Completely soaked. As soon as woke up enough to realize where we were and the impeding danger of more soakage, we grabbed our stuff and ran to the main section of the deck.
the ferry and Dex and Phil instantly set up their hammocks on the side of the boat while Ash, Nikki & I cuddled up in the corner and instantly fall asleep before the beat even left port. At 3:00 we set sail, but I was blissfully unaware that our sea journey had begun until my tranquil catch up of sleep was violently stripped away via a HUGE wave breaking over the side of the ferry and crashing down upon us. Completely soaked. As soon as woke up enough to realize where we were and the impeding danger of more soakage, we grabbed our stuff and ran to the main section of the deck. For the next 6 hours we experienced a snapshot of what the disciples must have experienced when Jesus calmed the storm. Crazy-massive waves; wind with “rip-you-to-shreds� power; enough sloshing back and forth to make even the strongest stomached person ill with sea sickness.
Although, don’t let me get too Negative Nancy on you- in those hours we did watch the most amazing sun set ever: red and oranges, golds and pinks, all setting behind the two volcanoes of the Nicaraguan mainland. Absolutely beautiful!
But back to the gnarly waves we found ourselves in – may I use a metaphor to capture how rocky this boat was: in my cocoon of a sleeping bag (useful to A. block the cold bursts of wind and B. protect myself from the sharp sprays of lake waves) I was, in essence, like a poor wet bar of soap stranded on the slick bathtub floor. At each hit of a wave, I would slide off my resting place on the railing and flying across the ferry floor. My face, computer, sleeping cocoon – all drenched with wave water. Although, no fear my readers, I would rally after each hit. In shear perseverance, I would sit back up, take my bright orange sleeping bag, wipe off my face & computer and slide back to my resting place against the railing. This probably went on for two hours.
People were incapable of walking straight. The best thing – and what most people did – was wrap up in a blanket, and lay on the floor with a mass of people around you in an effort to barricade yourself from sliding off the edge of the boat – it felt like a strange mesh of a hippy-Woodstock…on a boat…in Central America. Oh! And highlight of the evening came when a bird pooped on my head. For real.
After the poop-age, I felt it necessary to move inside and buy dinner – an added mark to my rice and plantain tally – and watch Glee until my computer died. I don’t know when I finally laid down to “sleepâ€� but it was hours into already being dark and the only open space was in the corner under the TV, in between a Nicaraguan family – mother, father, boy and tiny baby – their luggage and a random middle-aged man. The residents of the sleeping space to my right changed throughout the night. I would often wake up and see a sleeping individual who had not been there hours before…and at one point the little Nicaraguan boy to my left snuggled into the bend of my leg and chose to sleep there, curled up behind my knee.
Thirteen hours later, at 6:00 am, we finally arrived in San Carlos. Step one of getting to Costa Rica – check! We unloaded our packs on a row of benches overlooking the lake, and took turns guarding our mountain of stuff, getting breakfast, and figuring out immigration. We feasted on bananas and sweet bread.
Yum!
Yum! Around 9 we decided that if all 13 of us waltzed into the Immigration office with our huge backs, the workers would be totally overwhelmed and speed up their process to get us out quickly…yeah, not so much. Two hours after taking over their small reception area, Immigration told us we could go through customs, so we excitedly strapped on all our packs, which is quite the ordeal, only to learn five minutes later that our boat was full and would have to wait for the next boat…leaving in 2 hours.
We eventually landed a seat in a boat at 2:00 – at this point laughing at how crazy this day has been, buying Eskimo popsicles, and in awe that customs consisted of two men, one who stamped our passports without even glancing at our bags and the other being completely immersed in the Bejeweled game on his computer. Step 2 of getting to Costa Rica – check!
One sketchy boat ride later, we found ourselves in Costa Rica! We had to go through Immigration again, this time for entering Costa Rica, and spent another 3 hours chilling outside the Immigration office. What a crazy sight we were: 13 Americans with huuuuge packs overtaking this tiny building in Los Chiles. Story of our lives I guess. Lindsay, Greg, Jobie and I left find SIM cards-a whole other adventure-and came back with one working phone out of three. We called Pastor Victor, a friend of our contacts, and he led us to the bus station, where we took an AWESOME double decker bus to meet our contact – our 3rd and final step!
An hour bus ride later we are dropped of on the side of the road. Literally, the side of the road.
Praise Jesus our contact Tony was there with his white trooper to haul our 13 packs to his farm, 3 miles away. Our packs were the first to be transported, and we were left to chill on the side of the road for 30 minutes. What an incredible 30 minutes that turned into. Becca busted out her guitar and we sat on the ground sharing a liter of Pepsi and sw
eet bread and worshiped. Beautiful, intimate, spontaneous and genuine, we sang and prayed under a blanket of stars on the outskirts of the Costa Rican jungle. God is so good.
eet bread and worshiped. Beautiful, intimate, spontaneous and genuine, we sang and prayed under a blanket of stars on the outskirts of the Costa Rican jungle. God is so good. Eventually Tony returned and we crammed 12 people, 7 backpacks, a tent and guitar in his trooper with the three boys holding onto the roof. Insane!
30 hours to travel a mere 90 miles. Gosh I love that!!
The End.
Tune into my next blog – which won’t be as long, I promise! – to hear about Debrief in Granada, and what ministry in Costa Rica is shaping into.
