For those of you who know me well, you know I like to throw parties. Not just any parties; themed parties with trays upon trays of delicious food, only the best music, and a guest list that always warrants a great time. I’m not trying to be boastful, but one of my favorite things to facilitate at any gathering I might be hosting is a comfortable and fun atmosphere. I love to see people having a good time, whether it be through laughter, good conversation, or just simple enjoyment of everyone’s company. All this to say, “awkwardness” is the enemy of any party or event I might throw. I absolutely hate seeing my guests feel uncomfortable, or out of place. You could go as far to say that being at a party with an awkward atmosphere, especially a party that I am hosting, is one of my worst nightmares. This fear came true for me tonight at one of our ministry gatherings.
My team and I had planned a “get together, hang out time” with some of the youth of our neighborhood. At the recommendation of our contact, we walked the neighborhood last night and invited any ‘youth-aged’ people we came across to come to our church to drink coffee, eat cake, and hang out with some real-live Americans, in hopes that we would make church a safe place for them. Yep, that was our selling point. Hang out with Americans! We will have cake. Who wouldn’t want to come eat some delicious cake with seven gringos?
After we invited several 16-22 year olds, I was sadly convinced that we were setting ourselves up for failure. I pictured my team baking a ton of delicious treats and brewing tea and coffee all for ourselves. Boy, was I wrong.
Rap, rap, rap, went the first knock at the church door as we set out the final plate of cookies for the evening. Out translator opened the door and in marched seven 14-year-old boys excited to hang out with us for the night. Next pranced in three of our elementary-aged girls whom we had been working with at the children’s program this week. After that, dressed to a tee and ready for a quiet night of drinking tea with some mature adults, walked in two sisters, ages 22 and 35, who we had met earlier in the week. To top it all off, we had invited some guys who happened to be drunk the night before, and they decided to come as well. So there I was, standing in the middle of the sanctuary, with Russian Christian rap music blasting loudly through the speakers, seven 14-year-old boys, three 10-year-old girls, two mature sisters, five or six previously inebriated men, seven, non-Russian speaking Americans, and one translator. Oh, and I forgot about the 22-year-old Peace Core volunteer from Michigan who our pastor picked up on the side of the road, in his large white van. (You know the vans that they warn young girls not to park next to? Yep, that’s the one) Let the awkwardness begin.
I set up camp next to a the 22-year-old girl named Ana, who speaks very little English. We began to fake a conversation through hand motions, awkward nods, and smiles. We ended up just sitting there staring at our tea and coffee, myself nervously wondering how I could salvage this party, least of all this conversation.
I excused myself and retreated to the kitchen where I found cookies to restock the plates. When I brought the cookies back to the sanctuary, it seemed like the awkward atmosphere had subdued, and the different sets of people were actually enjoying themselves! Tommy and Kyle were chatting and playing cards with the younger boys, my teammate Emily had snagged our translator and was in a deep conversation with Ana, and there was a breakdance crew forming out on the porch. I began to feel a little more at ease as I noticed that everyone seemed to be having a good time, despite age differences.
Fun with real live Americans!
Towards the end of the night, I pulled our pastor aside and asked him how he felt the night had gone. He said he couldn’t believe that this many youth had come to a church. He said that in this culture non believers wouldn’t darken any church door, no matter the event. He said he was so excited that we had made his church a safe place for youth to come and not feel judged. We planned three more youth nights while we’re here, and he said he’s excited to continue doing such events after we leave.
All of this to say, it was worth it. All the awkward stares, the hand-motion conversations, and the many attempts to speak Russian was worth it in the end. I thought that night would be a disaster, but it turned out to be something incredible that will continue to occur after we leave. This is the type of ministry I love to be a part of as a world racer. Awkwardness? HAH! You have not won this fight. 🙂
