My team had the special privilege of staffing alongside Costa Ricans (or “Ticos” which is what Costa Ricans call themselves) at this incredible Christian Camp called La Montaña. The camp is located on top of a beautiful mountain (as alluded to by the Spanish name:) in San Ramon, Costa Rica, about three hours away from our base.
We were first introduced to La Montaña in December directly after our first ministry in Turúcarres called Columnas Del Fuego (a foster home where we spent Christmas—check out my last blog “A Christmas Well Spent”). Our ministry at Columnas del Fuego lasted for ten days and we were taken to La Montaña on the “way home” for a short weekend camp.
Little did we know we’d keep going back! My Squadmates returned for a week for debrief #2 (I didn’t go because I was in the states two weeks for my sister’s wedding) and then my team and I went again the day after I returned to Costa Rica from the states. That time we stayed two weeks and we’re going back in the beginning of March for an event called “The Awakening” at which four (I think) other World Race Squads will join us as campers for the event before we leave for Ecuador.
Going for the first time, I had literally no idea how much and how quickly I would fall in love with this place, the ministry, and the people. If I had to describe the camp in one sentence it’d be this: a special place at which God meets his children through unforgettable love encounters with the Father amongst a community of fellow believers (who also, ya know, just happen to speak Spanish which = none other than utopia for your girl over here who would literally die to speak fluently…).
But don’t get me wrong, the camp does have its “flaws”.
One of which is outlined below for all of you who are interested in hearing.
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Screaming in excitement and shouting various competitive chants, we lined the campers up to compete in the “Reta Selva.”
Allow me to introduce the “Reta Selva” to all my uneducated readers out there.
The “Reta Selva” (or in English, “jungle challenge”) is the most brutal and intense mud run imaginable, in which one has the unforgettable privilege of experiencing the complete and utter submersion of his/her body in the delicious, chocolatey mud that, if you’re lucky, will make its way out of your ear canals in a week’s time.
The campers wore their grungy clothes and the Staff wore clothes that, well…..didn’t exactly match the occasion. Our prayer was that Bote, our fearless, jocular, and quite insane rec leader, wouldn’t force us to participate in this very and extremely uncivilized activity with the campers. Oh how we were wrong.
Just minutes before entering the jungle, Bote warned the Staff that we might just regret wearing our snazzy outfits upon entering the mud lair because……”well who knows what might come your way?” We were all intelligent enough to know that this was Bote’s kind way of warning us of a joke he was very surreptitious scheming against us (love and hate that man). Hesitating, we left one by one to change our outfits. Let’s just say I’m glad we did.
It started out as nothing. We all stood at different areas of the mud run to cheer the campers on as they trekked through the thick gunk. But Bote, in his sinisterness, waited until the very end of the race to bless us with the pleasures of a mud bath. Not just a mud bath, but the experience of a baptism in the lovely earthen clay. Once suspicion began to arise, we all beelined it for the woods as fast as humanly possible, but all our efforts proved in vain when we heard Bote beckoning us to return. Begrudgingly, we hiked backward into his muddy lair and anxiously waited for the torture to begin.
It started with a group photo during which time, Bote and others cracked a raw egg on top of Vale’s head (the birthday girl, mind you), and then forcefully thrust her into the mud. Then the dreaded baptisms commenced. It was at this point in time I thanked the Lord I had changed my clothes because I knew there was no escaping from the powerful hand of Bote. One by one, we entered the nasty pool of mud, Vale and Nico (our Tico staff friends) performing the dunks on either side of us. Bote served as our very qualified Sacerdote (in English, “priest”) *insert sarcasm* and the ceremony began.
Vale: “Tell us why you want to be baptized into the La Montaña family.”
Britt: “well, hmmmmmmmmmm. by……force I guess???”
Bote: “Explain your decision in choosing La Montaña as your new family.”
Me: “porque me gusta mi familia nueva y quiero ser una Tica loca como ustedes!” *insert sarcasm*
And so on and so forth…..
Thus, for better or for worse, we officially joined the La Montaña Staff that last day of camp. Sarcasm aside, haha, I have to say that losing a pair of shorts and my sanity for the day was totally worth gaining an awesome new family and La Montaña citizenship!
For the Ticos reading my blog: ¡Los amo a todos y los extraño muchísimo!
From left to right: Nico, me, Hannah, Brittany, Bote, Lilly, Ashlynn, Amy, and Vale in the front.
Some other pictures from the camp:
-La Gringa Loca
