The past few days I have been traveling along the Amazon River on a slow boat as we made our way towards our 3rd country: Colombia. The trip was 2 nights and a full day from Iquitos, Peru to Leticia, Colombia. When we arrived, we were unaware of the crazy, confusing, and great adventure that awaited us in Leticia and the ways God would provide in that adventure.
We arrived at Santa Rosa, the island on which you immigrate from Peru to Colombia or Brazil. It’s about 7:30 in the morning, so we are all a bit tired. 6 or 7 people approach us telling us a few different things about how to do immigration. They’re all talking fast in Spanish so it was a bit hectic and overwhelming. Walk into Santa Rosa or take a boat over the border?
I knew that the for sure correct answer was to find the immigration on Santa Rosa, so we took a 15 minute hike (that felt longer because we were tired, hot, and sweaty) into town. We got there 3 minutes before 8 (when it opened) after walking through nice muddy terrain.
With our Peru exit stamps, we took a boat over to Colombia (after another swarm of men trying to get our business), then took another boat to Colombian immigration. Turns out you can get both Peru and Colombia stamps here.
Then had to slug through another hike that was SO muddy and slippery it was hard to keep our shoes on. One of us fell and a Colombian man held her hand the whole way through all the mud. I smiled at the kind action. We slugged through a little town close to the beach and eventually ended up in the little Colombian city of Leticia.
Immediately we found 2 tuk tuks that would take us to our hostel. Somehow we crammed the 6 of us, our hiking packs, and our daypacks into these 2 tiny vehicles. I was stuffed in next to Abigail and Catherine. I was mentioning how ready I was for fresh starfruit juice and a clean towel that would be at our hostel. Abigail described the tuk tuk as a literal sauna, and we all were just laughing and smiling about the whole experience so far (even though we were all tired, hot, and smelly).
After a 25 minute ride in a tuk tuk that could have passed as a sauna, we arrived at our hostel, but the gates were closed. Diego, our driver, starts honking, climbing up the fence, and yelling to get the attention of anyone inside. After about 3 or 4 minutes, a young guy walks out and nonchalantly tells us that they’re closed. I ask until when, and he answers “For two years.” WHAT!?!? I had booked this hostel with a 9.4 star rating on HostelWorld about 5 days earlier, so we already had a reservation AND had paid a deposit, only to get here and find out it’s been closed for 2 YEARS! In other words, I had booked a place that didn’t really exist anymore. I knew that free starfruit juice, a clean towel, and rest had sounded too good to be true. When we heard “2 years” Abigail, Catherine, and I just bust up laughing.
Thank God we had Diego as our driver. He knew about another affordable hostel about 2 km down the road, Omshanty. We arrived and I went in with him. Thank God they had room, but the normal cost was double our World Race budget could afford. After explaining our situation and letting Diego do a little bartering we were able to stay the nights that we needed. Though no starfruit juice, this place was surrounded by beautiful greenery in the middle of the jungle and staffed by some very kind people. What a blessing!
This adventure was SO messy and I’m thankful for people who, though exhausted, were able to have a good attitude and laugh. Here is what God taught me through this: Choosing to take the “long” route to go through migration seemed like the “wrong” choice, even though it was the only option I had found through research.
I definitely felt a bit bad because it would have been nice to have taken the boat in the first place and have given the team a much needed break. In the chaos of trying to listen to the Spanish speakers, I just went with what I knew. Only after did we learn that the boat could take care of both the exit and entrance migration.
I suppose hindsight is 20/20, but looking back on the experience I saw something else. Rather than my “failures” I saw God’s hand guiding the situation. The truth is, if we had not taken the long route, the we never would have run into Diego, our tuk tuk driver. Had we not run into Diego, we may never have found our our hostel was closed and we may have been stuck scrambling to find a new place to stay.
Meeting him was in no way a coincidence, Diego was a God send. Most drivers would have dropped us off at the gates, then left. We could have been sitting there for hours, unaware, but Diego went the extra mile to honk and yell to get the attention of the people inside. Then he drove us 2 km farther than agreed upon to a hostel he suggested, and then he helped barter the price to our budget. The whole time is was obvious how genuinely kind he was in his helping us and his conversation with us.
Though I felt like I had messed up and that the whole situation was just messy, now I see how beautifully designed it was by God’s hand. In my weakness I just needed to trust and rely on Him, and in that He showed me that I don’t need to worry because He’s got it all covered.
