and the lessons continue…..
Don’t forget the
little people. And when I say little people, what I mean is people who may
have been in your life for a little bit of time but changed you for the better
and you’ll never forget them. This is a shout out to Kal, John and Hudson, who
gave us some of our first real laughs on the Race, made us watch a three hour
Bollywood video the night before a 7am wakeup call, tried every night to order
naan at Sam’s, and were the first examples we saw of strangers living as
family, acting as an encouragement to us to keep trying, because we could do
it, too. We’ll never forget you guys.
Everyone has the same
name. It doesn’t matter where you go, everyone there will have the same
identity, which is actually quite helpful, because you’re constantly meeting
new people, so figure out what the country’s title of choice is, and when in doubt,
use it. Behind their backs you can distinguish them with things like first gen
/ second gen.
Some things never
change. As a team, we’ve had (both individually and corporately) so many
breakthroughs and growth, lessons learned, old habits shed and new ones formed.
We’ve learned to love people so incredibly different and, even more
importantly, started liking them. But
some quirks will always remain- the dad jokes are here to stay, the beard
probably won’t ever go away, the night owls will never go to bed before 2am
(while the early birds will never be up that late), and the girl who ran up and
down the airport stairs our first night together will always be running around
inappropriately on travel days.
Repeat fetishes are
bonding experiences. Sure, we repeat the same jokes multiple times a day
that we’ve been saying for months, we have a grand total of 7 words (totally an
arbitrary number) that we use (whatever–
shutup!), and we still deep- belly
laugh when we hear them. We sing the same songs (some real, some made up) and
learn the same lessons over and over again. But as we continue on this Race,
these things have become near and dear to our heart, reminding us of the people
we worked with who said them (“HUDSON- take the girls to Sam’s!”), experiences
we never want to forget (“how we s’pposed to feed ’em when we got nothin’ to
EAT?”) and some we’d love never to repeat (“are any of the girls awake? Vinny
threw up in his tent…”). Remember that time we sang Happy Day at a birthday
party in India, or wrestled with an oversized goat in Nepal, or snuck out of
Romania to blow up Hungary for the weekend, or squished 6 people into a
matchboxed sized kitchen for dinner in Moldova? I do, and I hope never to
forget these precious (and sometimes not so precious) moments.
Check labels. If
it says, “don’t drink me- bad for your lung,” it’s probably not potable water.
If it says “chocolate” (even if it’s in Romanian: ciocolata), it’s probably
chocolate flavored. If it smells bad, it probably is bad, and we don’t want you sitting on the toilet all day,
especially if we only have one for the whole group. Be smart, don’t fart.
It’s ok that we’ve lost IQ points in the last 4 months. At this
point, we’ve encountered at least 9 different languages (and when I say
encountered, what I mean is had to communicate in), worked with at least a
million kids (possibly a slight
exaggeration), and faced some fairly extreme cases of cabin fever. We mixed
East Coast with the Deep South, threw in some head bobbles and spoons, and now
we can’t clearly communicate with anyone,
sometimes not even ourselves. Though I have to say, it’s usually quite fun to
watch.
‘Try My Fudge’ isn’t always a chocolate offer. In fact, in
Romanian, it means, ‘how are you?’ (it’s actually spelled ce ma faci). The most basic rule of communication is don’t make assumptions, whether that means saying ‘bine’ (well)
rather than ‘da’ (yes) to the fudge question, asking a teammate how she’s
doing, or clarifying with a contact about dress code and how to wave hello.
Rap music is always a good idea. Particularly LeCrae. Background
music is also important. When in doubt, ask Vinny to play a song on the piano.
Nicknames are necessary. So are paper plate awards. Current
nicknames and awards:
Kacie: Kacie Mom, Masha Mom, Lollipop Girl
Katherine: Katarina, Katya, Jar Jiggler
Faith: FaithyFaith, Faithers, Old Faithful
Natalie: Princessa Natasha, Rightful Heir to the Throne
Vinny: Grandpa V, Chef Egg-straordinaire
David: Dave Dad, Backflip Boy
Don’t forget to love on the Babushkas, too. It’s easy to love on
the cute little girls, to hug and hold and kiss them, to swing them around in
circles as they sweetly giggle and come running back for more. It’s easy to
chase the flirty little boys around the room, slowly wearing them out until you
can corner them, grab them and tickle them till they’re laughing
uncontrollably. It’s harder, sometimes, to know what to do with the elderly,
who are just as desperate for love as the screaming 6 year olds who would never
admit it. The Babushkas, or grandmothers, have seen their families grow up and
take off for bigger and better things that the small, old world- style villages
can’t offer, and they are usually lonely and forgotten. But, oh, what smiles on
their faces when you grab their hand, or hug them, or put your head on their
shoulder. They shower you with kisses, they squeeze you just a little too
tightly, making up for all of the hugs you may be missing at home this year,
expounding about how beautiful and wonderful you are in Russian as you sit in
the warm flow, not understanding a word but clearly seeing the heart of the
matter, and being reminded once again that we aren’t here to love the lovely,
but to also remember the ones who need it most.
All animals can be named. And when I say all, what I mean is the
goats the size of Texas who just want to play wrestle. They can also be spoken
for, typically in a grumbly, high pitched voice. Sure, it sounds like a
paradox, but don’t forget, we gotz da skillz, yo.
Never say no to ice cream. If the most important thing on the Race
is food, the most important food is ice cream. You don’t joke about it, you
don’t offer it if you don’t have any, you don’t refuse the opportunity to eat
it. This is a non negotiable .
It’s not all fun and games, but it’s certainly funny (and sometimes
even serious). What we’re doing is serious. We’re going into the extremes,
to the villages with squatty potties and goats, to the small churches with 8
elderly members, to the orphanages with hundreds of children, to the slums
where excellence isn’t nice it’s necessary. We joke about how we call this
journey a suicide mission, but we’re really dying to ourselves every day, and
there are moments when that’s hard,
when we don’t think we can do it anymore and we want to throw in the towel and
call Nollis and pack our bags. But even in those moments, there is joy-
especially when pranks and jokes are involved. Even in the long prayers, there
can be laughter (“shutUp, stomach!” or “God knows about puking, too”). What
we’re doing is cra cra (translation:
crazy), but it’s so worth it, because when we get to heaven, we know God isn’t
going to look at us and say, “why did you waste your life?” He’s going to say,
“welcome to the party, beloved- I’m so excited that you’re here.”
thanks for sticking with it… hoped you learned some lessons as well 🙂
