On one of the last evenings of training camp, we were informed that this night’s dinner was going to be a little different. We were split up into eight groups, and we were told to go to the dining tent where a marketplace would be set up – it was our responsibility to buy food for our entire group. Each group was given currency (paper bills with Jeff Tyner’s face on them) and had a designated male leader who would handle all of the transactions. While this may seem a little sexist, that’s simply the way it is in some cultures.
This marketplace was insane. All of the AIM staff was in character as vendors, police officers, tourists, and various locals. Music was blaring, people were shouting in different languages, and everyone was up in your face all the time. We had been told that this scenario was our team coming off of a bus into the market, so we all had our daypacks with us and were wearing them backwards like kangaroos. I wasn’t going to let my stuff out of my sight.
Now I’ve had a little experiences in international marketplaces, so I had practice with ignoring vendors who were trying to sell me stuff I didn’t want. But this was a completely different level, and I was very grateful that I didn’t really have to talk to anyone. All of the sounds and people had me completely overstimulated, and it was the most stressful thing I’d done in a while.
And although it was so uncomfortable, this was probably one of the most valuable learning experiences of camp.
1. Being uncomfortable doesn’t mean you get a pass to be rude
We had a very intense debrief after this marketplace simulation, in which we were told that a lot of the staff had observed a lot of impolite racers. Whether it was arguing with vendors or shooing away a homeless person, many of us weren’t acting very Christ-like. I was guilty of this, refusing to talk to anyone who approached me because I could barely keep focused on the task at hand. I hadn’t really thought about this as a real-life scenario, since they had told us our goal was to get food.
On the other hand, there were a few people who had really stood out for handling the situation well, including my team leader Micah. I hadn’t even been aware of what had been going on until he was publicly praised later. Micah had been fair to vendors without letting them take advantage of him, bartered within appropriate limits, and was polite to everyone he had encountered.
2. Some of the things we were raised to believe aren’t necessarily correct.
I’m a white, middle class republican, and while I don’t plan on changing my political affiliation anytime soon, I realize that combination can make me quite blind to a lot of things, and often less than compassionate. I’ve been told not to give handouts, to ignore people begging, that it was “for their own good” to not give them anything. Now it’s not like I can give to everyone who asks, but it wasn’t until the debrief that I realized I had missed a lot of opportunities to show someone kindness, and to acknowledge their humanity, when both of these things could be rare occurrences for them.
I was haunted by images of people I’d walked by countless times during my month in Guatemala. How many times had I ignored them, when it wouldn’t have cost me much to buy them a cup of coffee and made light conversation? It’s a mistake I don’t want to make again, and on the Race I always want to be on the lookout for the opportunity to be the light. We all know that passage in Matthew 25:
“For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’ “They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’ “He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’”
Yeah, that one hits deep. Now this doesn’t mean don’t be aware of your surroundings (I almost got my nalgene stolen when I wasn’t paying attention) but it’s easy to put your blinders up and not see what’s right in front of your face.
3. I can’t be afraid to ask for help
In that marketplace, I experienced something I hadn’t had to deal with for months: the warning signs of a panic attack. It was all too familiar – the heart palpitations, the numbness in my hands, the inability to speak even when I knew what I wanted to say – and I was scared. I had worked so hard and I was afraid I was going to break down right there. I managed to make it through, but not before snapping at one of my squadmates in a frustrated outburst, which really had nothing to do with her.
My saving grace came in the form of Christi, a squadmate who was also in my group. She noticed I was having a hard time and immediately knew how to talk to me to calm me down, ask the simple questions that I was able to answer, and at one point she grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd rather than telling me what to do. Now Christi is a therapist, so it’s no surprise she knew what to do, but I can’t always count on that. Thankfully, she let me pick her brain about her thought process during this whole thing, and I gained a lot of useful insight. The thing is, no matter how much progress I’ve made, I still have anxiety and ADHD, so I’ll still encounter a trigger here and there. But I need to know how to deal with them, whether that’s by asking my team to give me some space to collect my thoughts, or letting them speak for me on the rare occasions I can’t do it myself. I can’t be too proud to let others help me, or I just get myself into trouble.
I could go on, but all I’ll say about that marketplace is that it was probably the most realistic Race scenario we encountered at camp. It will be interesting to look back on it a few months from now and see how it prepared us for life on the field.
