Travel days are full of the unknown. We’ve all learned early on not to ask questions, because chances are no one (including the leaders) know the answers. There are mixed reviews throughout the squad about these often chaotic days. Some have come to really love the unknown adventure, while others are simply tired of the stress and never knowing what is going on. It’s hard to believe that we have only one more month to experience travel days. I’ve been reflecting on these special days and I think I’ll really miss them…
Month 1. Upon arriving to Ireland, jet lag and nauseated with exhaustion, we were told that we would not be going to sleep or even resting in the afternoon (as we had expected), instead we would spend the day trekking around Dublin. We were given instructions for our “Race Day” scavenger hunt. There were several tasks to be completed by each team. The winning team would receive a prize. Still traumatized from training camp, we suspected that the prize would be eating dinner (consequently, the losers would not be eating dinner). So needless to say, we took up the challenge. Our teams set off literally racing around the city, checking each task off the list. Visit the book of Celts…what if only one of us actually goes inside? Buy a leprechaun hat for $2…does a small pencil topper count? Eat Irish stew for lunch…we can only afford one bowl, so we’ll have to share. Finally after we completed each item on the list, we ran back to the campsite hoping and praying that our efforts would pay off. The anticipation grew as our tummies grumbled. The winner was announced (it wasn’t my team). The prize- a box of Lucky Charms.
Month 2. The flight to Romania was filled with excitement as we anticipated the unknown. A new country, a new culture, a new ministry. My imagination wondered as I pictured Transylvania and the colorful culture of Eastern Europe. In my mind’s eye, I saw the little cottage we would be living in. Complete with a garden. The house would be full of those little wooden Russian dolls. We landed sometime after midnight and then all crammed into a bus, completely unaware of where we were or where we were going. We traveled for hours and I’m told that there was confusion and disorganization concerning the place we were heading. Apparently no one really knew. I was completely oblivious since I was drifting in and out of a deep sleep. At one point, I was abruptly woken up and told that we had arrived. We stumbled off the bus, grabbed our packs and stood in front of our host family’s house dumbfounded. The house was small and unkempt. There were flies everywhere buzzing around the dusty furniture and feeding on the sticky counters. Our host “mom” served us what she considered to be coffee. It tasted like lukewarm coffee flavored wet socks. We choked it down the best that we could and I realized two of my teammates were silently crying (I’ll protect their identity, but we now joke about it).
Note: Later we found out that we were dropped off at entirely the wrong place. We were supposed to be living in dorm style accommodations and working for a church.
Month 3. We were told that our job this month was to pioneer Bulgaria. We were in charge of finding our contact, arranging ministry, and securing a place to live. Our team leaders frantically emailed strangers they Googled from a McDonald’s in the Bucharest train station. With only a few minutes to spare before we departed, we received a response from an American missionary. We didn’t have time to work out all the details, or any details for that matter, so we set off in hopes that it would all work out. I remember the leaders telling our teams that “probably” someone will pick us up from the train station and “hopefully” we can find a place to stay. Barely surviving on no more than 2 hours of sleep, we arrived safely at 6am on a Sunday morning. We waited for a while, losing hope with every passing minute, when finally a beautiful Bulgarian woman approached us and introduced herself. She told us that we would be going straight to church (don’t worry, we’ll stop at McDonald’s to freshen up). We were filthy and haggard from an over night train ride and not in any condition to go to church. At McDonald’s she casually mentioned that we would also be attending a wedding ceremony that morning. She was in fact a bride’s maid in the wedding. We didn’t believe it until we arrived at the church and were immediately put to work blowing up hundreds of yellow balloons. Sure enough, in the middle of the praise and worship set, the wedding procession began flowing out of the pipes of an organ. The bride was escorted down the aisle and we watched (wearing our sweat stained t-shirts and cut off shorts) from the very first row.
Month 4. By month 4, I had gotten used to all the unexpected incidents that travel day brings. But absolutely nothing could prepare me for the very worst day (so far) or the entire race. We were driven to a campsite from the Tel Aviv airport and told that we would be sleeping there just for the night (a matter of a few hours, at that). In the morning, we would all pack up and set off for a day filled of site seeing and tourism. I was excited to sleep under the stars on the north shore of the Sea of Galilee. While preparing for bed, it was clear that the squad was divided- the practical and the risk-takers. The practical wisely decided to set up tents to comfortably sleep in for the night. The risk-takers decided that the hassle of setting up a tent was just not worth the few hours of sleep. They would take their chances and sleep under an awning or some kind of open porch roof that was found on the campsite. I was in the latter category of people and set up camp on the edge of the awning. I woke up to the sound of people moving around frantically. Then I realized that my entire sleeping bag was soaking sopping wet. There was nowhere to go. Why was I so lazy? I should have just set up my stupid tent. Hope and I decided that our only alternative to escape the torrential downpour was to retreat to the community bathroom (it was a really low point, ok?) The rest is unspeakable. Suffice it to say that it was the most miserable night of my life. (Also, Hope still got rained on the entire night).
Month 5. My squad mate Beks and I decided that we would have plenty of time to rest later. Instead we wanted to explore Istanbul while there was daylight. We walked out into the crowded streets and weaved our way through bumper to bumper traffic. We walked past a small café that displayed several works of art. We curiously peeked in through the half opened door and were quickly invited inside. A Turkish man insisted on showing us around the studio/coffee shop and proudly introduced us to several people I can’t remember. “This is so great!” We whispered to each other. We had both been talking about how badly we wished we could visit a museum. This was close enough in our present lifestyle. Our unofficial guide introduced us to a wild hair with crazy eyes. We soon found out that he was a famous Turkish artist who had traveled all over the world displaying his works. After chatting for just a few minutes, he handed us two tickets for the Istanbul art exhibition. Beks and I were absolutely elated.
Stay tuned for part two!
