Just a day, just another ordinary day. Just trying to get by…
This morning I had a meltdown.
It all started when I couldn’t find my black tank-top. In “real life” (the term we racers use to describe our lives back home in America) this wouldn’t be that big of a deal. But on the World Race, when you only have five shirts to your name, losing one of them becomes a much bigger issue. And by you I mean me.
I ran all around trying to find it, and, as with the grilled cheese incident of a few blog posts ago, I began accusing people of stealing my precious tank-top. I was convinced someone had it.
When I was done interrogating nearly everyone on my squad (girls and guys alike), I justified my actions to my teammate Emily by telling her the woes of growing up with eight people in my family. “This one time when I was a freshman in high school, I put my favorite pair of jeans in the wash. And I never saw them again.” I told her about how articles of clothing would go missing all the time – it was a dangerous thing to put something down the laundry shoot. There was a good chance you would never see it again (until years later when you find it in your sister’s closet, and even though you are fully grown out of that Limited Too size and style, you would take it back and claim it as your own.) Again, when I say you I mean me.
“I hate losing clothes in the laundry,” I said to Emily through clenched teeth. “I know someone got my tank-top mixed up with theirs, or maybe they were just greedy and wanted a sixth shirt. You can’t trust anyone these days.”
Two minutes later I found my tank-top hanging on the door handle of my room. Whoops.
And then, right before I was to leave for a date with my team, I couldn’t find my only pair of flip flops. True to Asian culture, we’ve all been kicking off our shoes in the front hall. A large pile of shoes usually forms, and this time mine weren’t there. I frantically ran all around the YWAM base again as my team waited for me on the stairs by the front door.
I looked in ridiculous places – you know, like in the refrigerator or behind the computer monitor. Just when I was about to start accusing people, I walked in on Kendra – she was crying. As soon as I saw the tears streaming down her cheeks, my own began to fall.
“I don’t know why I’m crying,” I said as the tears fell heavier and heavier. “I can’t find my flip flops.” But really, it wasn’t about the flip flops. It was about all the pressures of the World Race. It was about how I haven’t been sleeping well at night, and I’m tired. It was about how my team was waiting for me, and even though I love them dearly, I just wanted to be alone. It was about how it was that time of the month (IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN), and my only desire was to sit in my pajamas and eat a gallon of ice cream and watch Cinderella, because she understands what it’s like to lose a shoe or two.
I walked over and hugged Kendra. “Thanks,” I said in between sobs and laughter. “I wanted to cry last night, but I couldn’t. Seeing you in tears pushed me over the edge.” “Anytime,” she said through her own sobs.
Just then her entire team walked in.
“Oh, are you having a team meeting?” I asked, still crying. “Yeah,” she said, still crying.
Everyone seemed to already know that Kendra was in tears, but they looked at me curiously. “I lost my flip flops,” I said in that ugly cry voice you get when you try to talk and you are crying really hard. They just kind of stared at me – kindly, I might add – but I could tell they didn’t know what to say or how to comfort me.
“Welp, I’ll let you guys meet. My team is waiting for me anyway. Bye Kendra. Bye Don. Bye Ken. Bye Katie. Bye Shannon.” Man, it sucks to cry in front of people. But when you live in community it’s impossible to get away.
I walked out into the common room, where Brenda and Monica were standing by the table. “What’s wrong?” they asked, concern written all over their faces. “I lost my flip flops.” I don’t know why, but every time I said it I cried harder than before. I felt stupid, but thankfully girls are such tender-hearted creatures, and Brenda and Monica made me feel perfectly justified in crying over lost flip flops. Even though I wasn’t really crying over lost flip flops.
Monica ended up lending me a pair of her shoes so I could get on with my team date. I met them by the stairs with tears in my eyes, and they looked at my with surprised concern. They already knew I lost my flip flops – I didn’t have to tell them why I was crying. Even though I could’ve cried for a few days, I forced myself to stop. Who cries on a date, anyway?
We had a fabulous time at the coffee shop. We ordered drinks and talked about our celebrations and challenges from the past week. We made goals for the upcoming month. We laughed and gave each other advice and jammed to the Kelly Clarkson song that was playing in the background.
Eventually we made it back to the YWAM base, where we packed our bags and walked out the door to catch a bus for our next ministry site. I had no choice but to wear the only shoes I had left: my tennis shoes. I do whatever is possible to cling onto “real life” amidst all the change we go through on the race, and wearing tennis shoes is definitely not a step in the right direction. I’m strictly a Chucks and flip flops kind of girl.
“You look cool,” my teammate Adam tried to affirm me. “You look like you’re about to go work out.” I didn’t feel cool, and I wasn’t about to go work out. But I had made the decision to leave all my sorrows from the morning meltdown with my flip flops…where ever they may be. For all I know they could be on someone else’s feet, or floating in a great abyss. And that’s where my sorrows are too.
The bus ride was great. We played a game we like to call “Truth or Extreme Truth.” Basically, you are asked a question and have to answer truthfully. The questions range in depth based on your choice of truth or extreme truth. An example of questions asked today include: would you rather be a city taxi driver or a cross country truck driver? If you had to choose between marrying the love of your life and never seeing any of your family/friends again, or living a single life forever, but having your family and friends by your side, which would you choose? If you were granted three wishes, would you take them if it the cost was looking hideously disfigured for the rest of your life? …and so on and so forth.
A woman named Cecil met us at the bus station when we arrived in the city of Kampong Cham. She told us that after we dropped our bags off at her apartment she would take us to see a traditional Cambodian dance performance. I was pretty excited – I imagined bright colors and lots of people in the audience.
Well, there were bright colors, but there certainly weren’t a lot of people in the audience. When we arrived at the performance site there were seven chairs were neatly lined up in front of the stage. Apparently this was an A-list event (too bad I wore my tennis shoes!) My teammates and I sat in the chairs, and Cecil informed us that we were at a Monastery, and the dancers were orphans.
The show was a combination of tranquil moves and what I assume to be cultural storylines. At one point these two guys had antlers on their heads, and they were head butting each other. Then this other guy with a bow and arrow shot one of them. It was beautiful.
After the show Cecil took us to the ministry center, where a table set with dishes and food was waiting for us outside. We ate in the cooler air of night and under the shadow of the stars.
My team made it back to the apartment, where we climbed into our beds and ended yet another typical day on the World Race.
