Hey guys!
More is coming soon on what we’ve actually been up to in Romania, but I just need to share this story with you all right now. It’s hilarious.
So today was our “off day” and I was hoping to get some good rest but also be productive, cause there’s a lot that I’d like to get done (I’m slowly finding freedom from my to-do lists but it’s definitely a process. More on that later.)
Some of my teammates were taking a trip to the mall and I was on the fence this morning about whether I was going to go with them or not. The only thing I was hoping to buy was a small wallet, but it wasn’t absolutely necessary. I finally decided to go but only because I thought it would help to get away for a bit and then be able to buckle down with blogging, sermon-writing, and everything else on my list when I got back. I forgot my money belt and camera after we had walked to the bus stop, but sprinted back to Casa Shalom to get them and made it back before the bus came. As I saw bus #122 approaching, I had this strong feeling that I should stay back… I knew the trip was going to take longer than I expected with all the public transportation and there were a million other ways I could have been utilizing my free time (I just have this tendency of wanting to do everything). However, I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone (since the original plan was to have two of us come back earlier than the other two since they had to get more stuff, and I didn’t want to make anyone travel alone.) So I went. As I got on the bus and sat down I knew I shouldn’t be there. So I just started to pray, “Jesus, I’m here. I can’t do anything about it, so please just give me peace and a good attitude.” That was at 12:00pm.
I thought I was holding it together pretty well (even though I was slightly beating myself up inside) but my teammates have learned to read me in the short period of time we’ve been together. We were about to get on our last train to the mall (there had been another train and bus before this one), when Aly said, “Jenny, how are you?”
“I’m fine,” I stated. However, I instantly knew that statement wouldn’t be acceptable since we’ve been trying to avoid the “I’m goods” and “I’m fines” as a team… we’re seeking depth and intimacy with one another (which is awesome.) So I followed that up with, “Actually, I’m a little frustrated with myself that I came today. I should have stayed back because I’m realizing how much I’d like to get done and how long this is taking, but I’m here… so I’m trying to pray through it and have a good attitude.”
They all knew what was up but they just wanted to hear it from me. 🙂 Tracy then suggested that even though it had been a long trip already, I could just go back right then. I never thought it was an option to travel alone (since we had been told it wasn’t), but after thinking about it for a second I was all for it. My rebellious side began to creep out as the phrase “rules are meant to be broken” circled through my head and I could feel an adventure coming on. The other three told me how to get back, made sure I was ok with it, and released me. FREEDOM! I thought to myself, as I envisioned running with Mel Gibson to victory (Braveheart anyone?) 🙂
As I walked away on my own in a foreign country, there was an instant of fear that sprang up within me. I hadn’t really been paying attention to how we had gotten there or how to get around the city in general (since there was no need – I had always been traveling with others who knew the way), and I had no cell phone or way to reach someone if I got lost. But alas, the fear passed as I started praying for God to guide me through it. I knew it would all be fine. (That was at about 1:45pm…)
I got on bus #41 going in the right direction – back to the train station. Sweet. It didn’t take too long and I was back in about 15 minutes (no too shabby). From there, I had to get on bus #122 again and take it back to Casa Shalom – home sweet home. The only problem was, I didn’t know which way to take #122.
I waited there for awhile, saw different numbers of buses coming in all directions, prayed that I would see #122, and finally I did. “Thank you, Lord!” I still didn’t know if it was going the right way but decided to just get on anyway (that was at 2:20pm).
After AN HOUR on the same bus, a good long tour of Bucharest, seeing everyone who had gotten on get off again, and looking to my left to see the SAME train station I had gotten on the bus at, I realized I had taken it the wrong way. I couldn’t help but chuckle a little bit… this would happen to me, I thought to myself. But I was grateful that I finally knew where I was and would be home soon (or so I thought. That was at 3:20pm.)
I didn’t know exactly where the bus would stop since I usually get on going to other direction, but I knew it had to be coming up. I started to put my ipod away and walk towards the door when all of a sudden the bus stopped, the doors opened for a light speed of a second, and shut again right in my face. “NOOOOOOO!!!” was the only thing running through my mind at that moment. Through the glass doors of the bus I had been stuck on for almost the last hour and a half at this point, I saw my house. I was so close, and yet so far away.
I frantically looked up at the bus driver and smacked the door a few times in agony to make it known that this was my stop and would like to get off… but he just kept driving. Defeat. The best part about all of this was the fact that one of my headphones got stuck in the door as it violently shut in my face. I just stood there, trying to balance and pry open the doors of this moving beast in order to free my poor headphone before it was crushed as I silently scolded myself for not being born with the agility of Speedy Gonzalez. I finally freed it and sat back down again, with my head hung low and feeling rather sheepish and defeated.
There was still hope though. I knew that this was the end of the bus route (yes, I had seen the WHOLE thing) and therefore it generally just goes up the road a bit, turns around, and comes back again the other way (since that’s where we usually catch it – across the street from our house.) We continued driving up the road a bit, took a few turns here and there, and then it stopped. This is where it’s going to turn around, I thought to myself. I’ll be home soon.
Part of me was trying to convince myself that this was true, cause a bad feeling was creeping up inside. For about the tenth time today, I was wrong again. Instead of the bus beginning to move again and take me home, everyone else got up, started shutting all the windows (since it was RAINING out and had been on and off all day), and got off the bus. This wasn’t a new scene for me… I had been on this thing all day so I had experienced being the only passenger before and was simply waiting for it to start moving again to take me home. But no. It did not.
Instead, the bus driver started yelling at me in Romanian (which I obviously understood every word of.) In a cry of plea I said, “Can I please just stay on?” (…knowing full well that he probably didn’t understand anything I was saying.) This was followed by more yelling and hand motions to get off the vehicle. This is it, I thought to myself. Full defeat. Feeling even more hopeless, I stepped off the bus and into the rain.
It’s going to be ok, I thought to myself. This is going to make a great story. DO IT FOR THE STORY. (This has always been one of my life mottos. It tends to make others nervous because of the somewhat unpredictable behavior it can foster, but it’s all good. They usually thank me later. 🙂 ) I instantly regretted putting a white t-shirt on this morning as the rain came down all around me, but decided to try running to expedite the process.
Somehow I found my way back to the main road after the few turns the bus had made and I knew I just had one last stretch before I entered the (pearly) gates of Casa Shalom. I was so close! But of course, my adventures were not done yet.
They don’t have sidewalks in this part of Romania… at least, I haven’t seen any of them. Instead, they have a lot of DIRT on the side of the road. Here’s a short science lesson if you didn’t already know: when it rains, it forms PUDDLES. Puddles mixed with dirt make MUD. Mud makes for an interesting (to say the least) trip back along the road. Trying to avoid speeding traffic while wading through the mud makes for an even more dynamic experience.
I had rolled up my jeans and was preparing to get a little dirty… but I had no idea what I was in for. At one point as I was carefully trying to calculate my next step along the narrow road in order to avoid both the mud and the quickly-approaching cars, I slipped into a massive puddle of mud. I maintained my balance to some degree (Thank you, Jesus!), but both flip flops (yes, I was wearing flip flops) simply stuck in the mud and would not budge. At that moment, I felt exactly like Artax (the horse in the movie The NeverEnding Story); he was on an epic journey with his friend Atreyu to basically save the world, but once they entered into the Swamps of Sadness he was simply overcome by it. Artax sinks into “the sadness” (the mud) and dies. (Don’t worry, I didn’t die… I’m still alive to blog about it. 🙂 But it was definitely a moment of despair.)
As I’m stuck and desperately trying to pry my legs out of this ankle-deep puddle of who knows what, a huge tractor-trailor truck comes speeding by inches away from my helpless body and HONKS loudly. I would move out of the way if I could move at all, I think in my heart, but I manage to maintain my composure.
I finally freed myself from the mud, only to step in more and more as I continued the journey home. I was slipping around in the puddles as if I was on a muddy slip and slide and simply praying that I would not fall down or get hit by any cars. My flip flops had now gained five pounds with all the caked-on mud and my clothes were becoming tie-dyed with more specs of brown at every step. I passed some Romanians on the side of the road who couldn’t help but laugh at this crazy American in her predicament… but I just had to keep going. As I was nearing the house I decided to “wash” my feet out in a muddy puddle, simply hoping to get some of the massive chunks of hardened-on dirt off my feet. It’s come to this, I thought to myself.
I ended up making it back to our house in one piece (praise GOD!) at about 4:00pm. I had just finished washing my feet, sandals, and pants in the sink when the other three girls who had gone to the mall walked in. You’ve got to be joking, I thought to myself. They had made it to the mall, shopped for awhile, and gotten back only minutes after me. I couldn’t help but laugh. I had spent the whole day on public transportation and had nothing to show for it except some dirty clothes and a good story. But man, it’s a good story, right?! :) DO IT FOR THE STORY.
My teammates felt super bad about it but couldn’t help cracking up at the same time (cause let’s be honest… the whole thing is pretty hilarious.) Brittany said she wanted to make a cartoon drawing out of it and label it “Jenny’s Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day” or something of the sort. It may happen… JUST SAYIN. 😉 (That’s a new phrase that I’ve adopted. I’m learning to speak like my teammates… and I love it.)
We decided that AIM knows what they’re talking about when they tell people never to travel alone. It’s not like I felt unsafe at any point, but I think it would have been nice to have a partner in crime during all of this. 🙂
Lesson learned: travel buddies are good. Thanks AIM. I guess I had to be a little rebellious and learn it on my own though. 🙂
I didn’t take a picture of myself when I got back, but if I had it would have looked something like this: (just add 20 years and we’re all set) 🙂
