One weekend we went out to a village, whose name I can’t even pronounce. We were told we would be going there to encourage the body of believers. Being foreigners, we couldn’t stay in that area for very long because it would arouse suspicion and draw too much attention to the church. So we were only allowed to be there for about a day and a half. The village was 16 hours away.
Eight of us racers, two translators and our driver piled into a van on Friday evening and what was supposed to be a 16 hour drive, became about a 20 hour drive because we got lost in the middle of the night. At the start of the trip, spirits were relatively high, considering that our van was cramped and not built for people over the height of 5′ 2″. All of us racers coming along were taller than that. Needless to say, our knees and legs had a really tough time.
We thought we had left bumpy roads in Africa but we were sorely misinformed. But lucky for us it was only like that 20-30% of the time. We stopped for some late night Pho (Vietnamese noodle soup) and tried to stretch our legs. Mine kept making funny snapping noises when I’d try to extend them fully. We had the occasional bathroom stop and once it was in the middle of the jungle by moonlight.
We drove through the night. My iPod kept me company because I just couldn’t sleep sitting upright with my knees crushed into the seat in front of me. I had fun listening to Owl City, Maroon 5 and MuteMath. Occasionally I’d drift to sleep for two or five songs but then I’d be up again.

It was a losing battle.
I couldn’t keep them open any longer. With a feeling of devastation, my eyelids slipped over my eyes and I sank into unconsciousness as sleep finally claimed me against my will…
To be continued…