“Where… are we?”
We were only a ferry-ride away from our last location but now an entirely different world was before us. Gone were the enchanting Spanish vineyards, brightly colored sunflower fields and rows of olive trees that we had grown fond of as we walked by and through them. Hadn’t we just said goodbye to our friends on the Camino? Yet in this moment, that all felt like a distant memory. Utter unfamiliarity hit like a wave at my back, unexpectedly launching me forward into this new environment. With a mix of caution and urgency, my team and I walked forward. We had made lodging arrangements for the night prior to our arrival in this port city and were doing our best to navigate these new, winding, uneven roads. Carrying our backpacks with all of our belongings warranted some strange looks as if our searching eyes, careful steps and general difference in appearance weren’t enough.
Tension was thick as the battle between fear and love raged in my heart and mind. These are the people who I have wanted to meet for so long. This is one of the cultures I was so excited to immerse myself in. With every step my heart became more rigid. Calls from men who recognized us as foreigners as we walked by angered me. How were we to enter into a culture where we stuck out ‘like a sore thumb’? I was annoyed that I didn’t really understand the map that I’d downloaded on my phone. *Enter unsolicited helper* My goodness, this man was persistent. “Hello ladies! “Do you know where you are going? You speak English? French? Where are you from? Do you have a place to stay? Are you staying at The Grand Bazaar hostel or The Travelers Way hostel? Let me take you! Don’t be shy! My friend owns the place! Are you from Spain? You have Spanish face! Have you eaten? Don’t worry, you can trust me! Everything is closed, you know, it’s a holiday!” As much as we honestly just wanted him to go away (we had just been briefed on culturally appropriate behavior and so far his wasn’t fitting the bill) he wasn’t giving up. We were just tired. We just needed to find our place. As we walked, he continued ahead of us and I kept an eye on my map. My team and I exchanged glances, more than a little wary of our guide’s trustworthiness. But it seemed like he was leading us in the correct direction. Until he wasn’t. The map said left. He went right. My heart beat fast. I was holding the map and my team asked if I believed we were going the right direction. This whole entire time I had been praying and asking the Holy Spirit for discernment and that this man wasn’t leading us to anywhere we shouldn’t be. We followed. As it turns out, he might have been a guardian angel. We made it to our hostel safe and sound and probably would’ve taken much longer to find it without his help. Maps are mostly helpful when actual streets and street names are a thing.
I was so focused on trying to get to where we were going, I almost missed what was right below my feet! We had arrived in this city during a holiday called “Eid al-Adha” or “Festival of Sacrifice” and as our “guide” had informed us, almost everything was closed. (Eid al-Adha is an Islamic holiday honoring the willingness of Abraham to sacrifice his son as an act of obedience to God’s command. But, before Abraham could sacrifice his son, God provided a lamb to sacrifice instead. In commemoration of this, an animal is sacrificed and divided into three parts: one third of the share is given to the poor and needy; another third is given to relatives.) People were sporadically gathered along the road, outside their homes, preparing sacrifices. We walked right into smells and sights that, had we been unaware of the holiday beforehand, might have been a bit unsettling. Carcasses of butchered rams lay on the side of the street as the blood still dripping from them mixed with the dirt on the street under our feet, the heads scattered around the main area of each gathering. More than a couple times I saw the horns being separated by axe and hot irons being used to sear the inside of the nose. I’m not sure if this was practical, symbolic or just plain boredom but whichever way… it was strange.
After we were settled in, we walked around the city in pursuit of an ATM and bottled water. We toured around a little, but we were all pretty ready to call it a day. That night, as I laid in my bunk, I was thankful to have a place to stay the night but struggling hard with just about everything else. Tears brimmed the corners of my eyes as I stared into the dark. “What have I gotten myself into?” We had spent most of the remaining evening on the roof of the hostel, praying and trying to find arrangements for lodging in the city that was to be our home for the better part of two months. While there was some stress surrounding that situation (we still hadn’t secured a place for the next evening by the time we went to bed) we asked God to refocus and realign our hearts. We reminded ourselves that God is our provider and would continue to be faithful in his provision. I tried to remember this as my tired body demanded sleep.
The next morning, we packed up, ate breakfast and got ready to catch our cab. It wasn’t until literally three minutes before the cab arrived that we received word that the offer we had made on a small apartment in our assigned city had been accepted! We hardly had time to celebrate before walking to the taxi where we watched in amazement as the driver managed to “fit” all of our packs into his trunk with the aid of some sort of rope he found in a nearby alley. We piled on top of each other to fit in his vehicle (that definitely wasn’t meant for six people), laughed as we passed around the window crank to get some fresh air (there was only one crank for all four windows) and took off toward the train station!
As I’m writing this account, over a week later, I am grateful and amazed. Grateful that there’s no “eject” button from this journey! Grateful for the patient teacher that the Holy Spirit is to me. Grateful that in just a matter of days, he has grown my heart for this country and it’s people exponentially. Amazed that he has used us and our fumbling attempts at this complicated language. Amazed that we’ve been welcomed into homes and lives here. That we have been able to show love and BE loved so well. He knows me. He sees every detail of my mind with all it’s imperfect and un-renewed parts and he wants it all. He’s not afraid of my prejudices, selfishness, fear or pride but instead invites me to lay it all down, allowing his love to take over. He is a God who transforms, renews and redeems. And I get to spend forever with him.
Thank you for your continued prayer and support! If you’d like to support me financially, there is still a need! There are one-time and monthly options (monthly will only continue until I am fully funded).
Y’all are amazing. Praying for you daily!
