It was my last day in Ecuador. Everyone was running around, packing their bags, and wondering about the future. I was sitting in my room, trying desperately to get my underwear to fit inside my hot pink packing cube when my squad leader John walks over to me.
“Hey Jordyn, can you meet us in our room for a minute?”
Great. What did I do now? As I walked over to the room, I contemplated every possible thing I could have done. I braced myself for tough feedback. I felt like I was walking into an interrogation as I stared my squad leaders in the face full of anticipation of the conversation to come.
“After a lot of prayer, we have realized that you are a person of peace on your team, and we think that your team needs more of that peace over the next few months, so we were wondering if you would step into team leading for the next season.”
This conversation would start a rollercoaster of emotions throughout the rest of the day. Excitement at a new position, nervousness at new responsibility, and that uncontrollable “Oh God I might throw up” feeling that comes from time to time during stressful situations.
On my last day in Ecuador, I became team leader of Team Monarch on B Squad 2016. The idea of it is still crazy to me!
Day 1 as a team leader began on one of the more stressful times of the month for even the most seasoned of Racers.
Travel days. Eww. I cringe at the thought of them. The car sickness, the heavy bags, the unexplainable bodily functions…and we had a particularly nasty travel day ahead of us from Quito to Bogota. Two days straight of bus rides and rumbly tummies…and on top of that, I have to lead people now. Oh JOY.
Right before we left, they gave me the team phone. Wayyyy too much responsibility. My tummy rumbled at the thought. I had no idea what I was doing, but I trusted that God would make a way.
Honestly, I don’t remember much on the bus ride to Bogota. Half of the time I was trying desperately to not barf on the windy mountain roads and the other half of the time I was in a dramamine induced stupor and not really good for anything. We had to walk across the border from Ecuador to Colombia, and the weight of my pack only strengthened the uneasiness in my stomach. It’s a miracle I didn’t throw up.
27 hours later, we finally arrived in Bogota. I bought minutes for my phone, handled 400,000 colombian Pesos to buy bus tickets to Medellin for my team, and bought a Subway sandwich with a white chocolate macadamia cookie, because sometimes, you just need a taste of home.
There was one crucial question everyone had while buying the bus tickets. Does this bus have a bathroom? No need to be looking for a loose nalgene and an empty seat if we have to pee. Luckily, it did, and we embarked on our “9” hour journey to Medellin(actually they meant 13 hours).
The whole way to Medellin, I couldn’t sleep. Partially because I was corresponding with our ministry host, which apparently, is something TLs do, and partially, because we were driving on steep bends and sharp curves that made my head slam against the window every 2 seconds.
Just as I’m about to fall asleep…BANG.
Something happened. I look out the window, only to see a car smashed into the side of our bus.
Great. Now we will never get there.
We were stuck for about 30 minutes, which would have normally been really irritating, except that it gave me a chance to pee without fearing for my life. In an earlier bus ride, I had been shot out of the bathroom while pulling my pants up because the driver hit a sharp turn. Risky business, bus pee.
Anyway, bladders emptied and road cleared, our journey began again, and I was so excited because I had finished talking to my ministry host and maybe I could get a couple hours of sleep….
NO SUCH LUCK. The AC on the bus had water condensation around the vents, and that was now DRIPPING ON MY FACE like some Chinese water torture. I was about ready to shoot someone.
Head hits the window. Ouch. Water drops on face. Begins shivering. Covers up to avoid water. Water soaks through clothes. Falls asleep anyway. Head hits window.
4 hours. 4 hours of this torture that can only be described as “being placed in a shoe box and shook around a bit.”
We finally arrived at our destination at 4am, got lost in the Medellin bus station, and met up with our host. We went to bed by 5, and had to be up at 8 to begin our month in Colombia.
It ended up being 39 hours of travel, which brings my total bus hours on the Race to 95. We were tired, weary, and I felt completely inadequate to do any sort of team leading.
But God doesn’t stop there.
This is the real truth about the Race. Travel days…are not so fun. You will smell like a dumpster, you may throw up a little, and you will learn all the fun homeopathic remedies for motion sickness(hint: peppermint oil), but ultimately, it is all worth it.
This month, we are working at a home for boys who have never experienced real love, and I get to be a part of showing them that. I would go through all the bladder issues, tummy issues, BO, and leg cramps all over again just so I can be there for these boys.
The Race is real. It is not some romanticized adventure full of fluffy unicorns and Jesus fairy dust. It is true. It is beautiful. It is RAW.
And sometimes, to get to your destination, you have to smell each other’s farts.
