So we were on a bus. Keep in mind that only after the bus tickets were bought, we found out that we got tickets to a city “close” to our actual destination…. That happens a lot here. Most of the time you catch a bus, hop off, and have to catch another bus or taxi or just walk to where you’re actually trying to go… which wouldn’t be so bad if we had wifi in the middle of nowhere, the language barrier wasn’t so tough, and the buses didn’t stop at so many unexpected places without announcing where we currently are. What was tough about this actual day was that after we got off and unloaded everything, we got off at one “close to our destination” stop. While I ran in to catch the bathroom, my team loaded everything back up, and I had to run to catch the bus. My water bottle was the casualty in the confusing, hectic moment.
Turns out our tickets were actually to that spot, but they were bringing us to a closer spot as a “favor”. Once we unloaded at the next stop, they charged us for the “favor”, and the bus taking us to where we were really trying to go was already driving off without us. After chasing that bus down, we loaded up again, I realized my bottle was left, and it wasn’t long till I almost found myself on the floor when the bus driver stopped abruptly for a few extra passengers on the already packed bus. Once a seat opened up, I sat down and shed a tear. Maybe two. I’m not sure why it was the water bottle that tipped me over the edge… Maybe it was because I’m living out of one bag and a water bottle, even in the States, is something I never go without. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was the fact that once we got to Canoa, we didn’t have a place figured out to stay that night. Maybe it was a combination of it all.
Either way, I realized in that moment how uncomfortable I was.
Being okay with being uncomfortable. It’s a difficult process to go through. I’m still working on it every day. And I’m beginning to think it’s going to be the theme of this entire year. But I’m choosing to believe He is working on me through all of it.
When I lost my water bottle, I realized all over again that stuff is just stuff. It was unsettling to me how attached I was to it! Here’s a few other things that make me uncomfortable…
Where shall we eat and where shall we sleep? We’ll find out the day we get there:) (Sorry, Mom!) In our experience, even when we’ve done the research, most of the time we are walking around the day of figuring out where is best to stay in a new city. With the budget we have, the accommodations can be… stretching. If there are five star hotels in South America, we haven’t seen them.
The language barrier. I took four years of Spanish, and I still feel like I know what’s happening 40% of the time.
Taxi drivers. Every time they know right where to take you! And every time, we stop and ask for directions on the way…. One taxi driver asked if we were up for going to a party in the mountains… Another was asking me to read the street signs in a town he’s been driving in for 15 years. It’s always an experience.
Living in community, with strangers. I met these people a month ago, and we already know so much. Too much? Probably.
We are currently in Canoa, Ecuador. It’s a little surfing town off the coast. The coast and the people are beautiful! The bugs, the mosquitos, the cockroaches, the bats, the jelly fish, the crabs, and the tiny, tiny bugs that make you question how it’s possible that they move and breathe, not so beautiful.
The humidity, the heat, and the sun… on another level! Even after I apply my winter coat three times a day (SPF 50-100), I still burn. Being so close to the equator is no joke.
Carbs. Carbs. Banana! And more carbs.
The cost of things here in the little town… they wanted 12 dollars for a small bottle of after sunscreen. 12. Dollars.
The LoRd asking me to give up wifi… though a lot of times that’s refreshing for me, it’s a comfort that’s hard to give up even if the connection is poor.
Not always knowing what God is doing. That’s hard. But I’m learning so much about faith and about Him in the midst of it all. It’s hard to know how to react when people are explaining the devastating effects of an earthquake that shook everything up two years ago. The people of Canoa are still recovering. They are still dealing with the aftermath. They are still healing. And we are here to listen. To love. To pray. To serve. And to give hope.
At the end of every day we are here to trust that His plans are so much bigger for this tiny town than we will ever know.
At the end of the day we are grateful to be a part of His plan at all. Despite how uncomfortable it may be.
