I’m sick. I don’t know what’s wrong except that it all feels wrong.
We’re in Uyuni, at an altitude of nearly 12,000 feet.
Let me back up.
I’m scared to write about the trip to Uyuni because I’m afraid just thinking about it will make me sicker.
It started with a 24-hour bus ride to the Argentina/Bolivia border. The ride was surprisingly nice. The view was beautiful. I was with my sister, which makes everything better.
Once we got to the border, things got rough. The Bolivian migration officers were not very excited about us, and we were stuck at the border for three hours. Outside on the sidewalk.
It wasn’t so bad until it started raining.
Finally, our passports were stamped and we’re on our way, hiking to the nearest bus terminal.
This is where my sister and I had to say goodbye. We were so exhausted that the emotions didn’t really hit us.
Now, two teams of 14 are being crammed into a tiny bus with all of our backpacks. It’s cramped, but we reassure each other that we’ll sleep the whole way to Uyuni. It’s about a 6-hour trip.
Things are going fine until we’re stopped by police. I’m the only one in the van that speaks mediocre Spanish, so the police are at my window asking me how many of us are traveling, how much we paid for our tickets and if we bought them through the terminal.
After a couple minutes of questioning, he motions us forward.
An hour down the highway, we make a sharp turn down a dirt road.
This is where the nightmare begins. The only way I can describe this path is “an off-road adventure from hell.” The driver is constantly switching gears to climb steep dirt hills, only to fly downward around crazy twists and turns.
My squadmates in the van are freaking out. Luckily, one girl has cell signal and watches the GPS, assuring us that bizarrely we are going the right way.
This road can’t last for long.
We get to a flooded area. We look at each other in silence, not sure what to expect. The driver gets out and walks about halfway with a stick, checking to see how deep it is.
Suddenly, he’s speeding through the flooded roads, twisting and turning all the way.
Girls are crying. One girl throws up in a plastic bag.
Now, he’s stopping in the middle of nowhere. “Bathroom break,” he says. It’s been 3 hours.
A few of us jump out and wander into the dark, thankful for the pieces of toilet paper we’d packed.
Now, we’re on the road again. I’m clutching a plastic bag, saying “Jesus, Jesus,” out loud.
Other teammates join me in prayer. Hours go by. The hellish dirt road never seems to end.
Finally, praise the Lord, we make it to Uyuni. Stumbling out of the van and onto the ground, we’re greeted with freezing temperatures and biting wind.
It’s 3 A.M. and our host this month is waiting there with a running truck. At this moment, he’s a sight for sore eyes.
We pile our huge backpacks into the bed of the truck, then draw straws for the lucky two that will sit inside the truck.
The rest of us climb on top of the backpacks in the bed of the truck, holding onto our daypacks as a shield for the wind.
About ten minutes later, we arrive at our destination.
Shouldering our packs and walking through a gated area, we’re shown to an open room where seven straw beds have been prepared for us.
Here, I feel the tears of joy start to stream, so relieved to have made it to our host, alive and safe.
Tomorrow, we’ll get a day to rest and “acclimate” to the altitude / cold climate.
It’s day two and I’m still working on that acclimation thing.
Please pray for me. I hate feeling sick because I fought so hard to be here and I want to give my all to the community we’re serving.
Also, please pray for my teammates, because I’m not the only one feeling this way.
Living situation wise, we have a small kitchen in a room upstairs and a literal outhouse out back.
Because we’re in the desert, the water pressure is slim to none. Therefore, no showers.
We’re encouraged to fill up buckets when the water is running and take showers like that, making sure not to drink any of the water.
The water is freezing, but it actually feels really refreshing.
We’ll be doing ministry with a local Assemblies of God Church. It should look like a lot of youth ministry and physical labor.
I’m pretty excited. As soon as my lungs learn how to breathe this air.
I wrote this blog because I want to keep it real with you guys, but I also want to reemphasize how honored and excited I am to be here.
I know God provided for me to be here, through you, for a reason. I’m so excited to live it out for the next month.
