As we sit around our hosts lunch table, my team and I relive our favorite moments from the morning’s ministry serving the people of the little village of Kurupaiti, Bolivia. One of my teammates looks up and over my shoulder, her face expresses all I need to know. I turn around and sure enough, off in the distance, I see dark storm clouds rolling towards us.
In an instant our moment of peace is over, and we jump into action. You see, this village lies an hour away from Lagunillas. Deep sink holes, mud pits, crevices, or large tree limbs appear around every turn, so traversing this road challenges the local drivers even in the best driving conditions. In a rainstorm, the road disappears, and becomes a rushing river with water up to my knees. Based on our experience last week, (let me just say our truck got stuck, and we camped out for 2 hours in a goat shelter…but that’s a story for another day) we know a few minutes mean the difference between reaching our host’s home in Lagunillas or a second visit to the goat shelter.
Within minutes, the Pastor in Kurupaiti arranges our travel back to Lagunillas (essentially we hitch a ride in the bed of a construction truck that installed electricity to the village that morning). Behind us ominous clouds creeping closer, a gust of wind, and a distant roll of thunder warn us that the storm wants to overtake us. Our driver races the storm, and we safely arrive in Lagunillas just as raindrops kiss our cheeks. As we reach Pastor Aleida’s porch, I say a quick prayer, “Thank you Father for helping us arrive dry and safely! Protect or Bolivian friends as the continue on to their destination!”
Previously, we lived in a cute little hotel off the edge of town. However, to save money and live closer to our host, we decid to stay in our tents in a field next to her home. Within a few minutes, one of Pastor Aleida’s relatives arrives to unlock the home. That’s when we discover Aleida’s stuck in one of the rural communities, and ikely won’t return until the morning.
A bit disappointed we won’t see Aleida, we make ourselves feel right at home. Big packs open, contents spill across beds, tables and the floor, and we fill every electric outlet with personal devices that need batteries recharged. I’m the first to hop in the “shower” (the others head out to see if the hotel is open, and ask how much they charge to use the shower facilities). This is my first bucket shower of the Race, and with just a few teammates around, I’m savoring the quiet moment alone with the open blue sky. After 3 days in the dirt and no showers, this bucket of fresh water and soap feels so great on my sweaty, dusty skin.
After my shower, I set up my tent on the adjoining church property and head out into the main town Plaza to grab a snack with Alyssa and Hilary. When we return home, silence welcomes us. The front door is closed, but slightly ajar. We walk inside, “Hello, anyone here?” Off towards the bucket shower, we hear Alicia softly shout, “I’m here, finishing my shower!” “Hmmmm????”, I’m thinking and then say aloud, “And you’re all alone?” remembering one of the most important World Race policies to stay in groups of 2 or more at all times. I think to myself, “Well, that will be some good feedback and a reminder for Team Time tonight.”
As I tuck the thought away for later, I notice Alyssa speaking to a 10 or 11 year old boy. “Wait a second,” I think to myself, ”where did he come from?”
Alyssa looks at me a bit confused and says, “This boy just came from the corner of the back yard. I’m not really sure what he said, but something about a man and a cell phone.” We laugh it off, another moment where our Spanish skills weren’t quite enough for communication, and as quickly as the kid appeared he disappeared around the corner of the home.
We walk back inside, I reach towards the outlet where I’d plugged in my phone, and it’s not there. Not even registering the boy’s comment to Alyssa, I think, “Huh, I guess one of the girls moved my phone. I’ll check their tents.”
As I peek inside each tent, I start to feel a prick of concern that my phone is missing. I keep thinking, “Where could it be?”
Suddenly Alyssa exclaims, “That little boy! What did he say?!”
Realization hits us…
A man. Walking away. With a cell phone.
…and that’s when my heart sinks.
Stay tuned for part 2, I’ll post it next time I have internet!
PS – I can’t get photos to upload, so check facebook to get a view of Lagunillas!
