They told us the middle months – Months 5, 6, & 7 – would be the hardest.
It’s when people start losing steam.
They check out of Race Life. They revert back to old behaviors.
Homesickness creeps in. Exhaustion pulls them under.
I strolled through Months 5 & 6 unscathed. And I was pleased with myself – at least I wouldn’t get touched by those problems. No Mid-Race Crisis is getting to me.
And then we entered Month 7, here in Vietnam.
This is our 3rd Southeast Asian country. Our 3rd Southeast Asian big city. Our 7th new place to explore. As we walk these streets we see familiar sights: more little coffee shops… more street markets… more cute children… By this 7th transition we’ve made, the glamour of a new foreign city has worn off. Exploration now just involves spending money and sweating in the heat. This month, this new country feels like – I can’t believe I’m saying this – same old, same old.
Ministry also seemed to immediately take a backseat. After only one week here, we had to say goodbye to our dear teammate Stephie, who left the Race to go home. Her world was turned upside down in a matter of 5 days, as she heard news about her dad’s illness (you can read that story on her blog by clicking here).
While she waited anxiously, we waited anxiously. Our minds were not on ministry. Her story was ours, for that week. And when the final verdict came, we dropped all obligations, spent a bittersweet last day together, and said goodbye at the airport.
We miss her dearly.
During and after that process, though, I never quite picked up the momentum to invest properly in ministry. We have no obligations until the afternoons, leaving our mornings free for… well, sleeping in much too late. We’ve also indulged ourselves in more Netflix than I usually watch even at home (we’re currently on season 2 of House).
Our conversations now often revolve around home. Namely, going home in 4 months – and all the mess that comes with that.
We’ll have no money, and no jobs. No ever-present teammates to laugh & fight & cry with. No clear purpose handed to us every day in the form of meaningful ministry.
We’ll have to deal with culture shock not only from abroad to the U.S., but from World Race culture to our normal community’s culture. We’re going to have to relearn how to settle somewhere for more than a month. We’ll have to pay $4 instead of $0.50 for coffee.
…Did I mention we won’t have our teammates?
So it’s curious that this month we spend time mentally escaping from Race life… but then we’re afraid of what’s going to happen when we have to leave it. It’s a frustrating paradox. We could be outside exploring the streets of Ho Chi Minh, adventuring together.
But instead we flop on the bed, exhausted, and push play on the next episode. After all, we have real beds and air conditioning. Which, right now, seem more attractive than the bustley scorching outdoors.
So right now, I find my mind is elsewhere. I miss my old world. Long hours in bookstores, orchestra concerts, normal shoes. I miss curling up on friends’ couches, in real, settled homes – not hostels – with pets and real dishes. I miss fluffy cozy winter coats (I’ve been in summer weather since January). I could go on…
I know I can’t quite capture what it feels like to miss these fairly normal things after 7 months without them. But as I’m sitting here, in this unfamiliar coffee shop, in this tshirt I’ve been wearing for 3 days straight, thinking about what street food to get for dinner so I can stay within our $4 a day food budget… they sound like the nicest things in the world.
Don’t worry. I know I’ll miss the Race. I know to be present, to soak in each fantastic, foreign thing that happens to me every day. I know to keep perspective – I am out-of-this-world-blessed to be here.
But it is just like they predicted. This is the inevitable Month 7 Swamp. It’s sludgey and mucky and sticky. Here it is, a real thing that every Racer hits. But now I’ve realized I’m in it, I can fight to get out all the quicker.
I’m wading through right now, but I know I’ll see you on the other side soon.
