Flexibility Is the Name of the Game

You know that feeling…that feeling of sudden panic. That feeling when you wake up on Tuesday morning and you aren’t as tired as you thought you should be. Birds are chirping and it’s brighter outside than you expected. With butterflies beginning to descend in your stomach you turn to look at your clock…and you’re late. You’ve over slept. You can either get ready for class...or be to class on time. It’s your choice. You know you can’t skip…so you throw on a pair of jeans and a hat and pray that your face looks okay as you grab your sunglasses, keys, and books and run out the door.

This was my first full day in Costa Rica.

You see, knowing that I would have no cell phone service in a foreign country, I decided to be practical and leave my phone at home. This would be very hard for some people…and during the school year it would have been a big deal…but during the summer, I am not really attached to my phone because…it’s summer. So it was not really a sacrifice. However, I always use my phone as my alarm (1 of 3 that I use during the school year to avoid the above scenario)…but since we were staying in a hotel, I figured I would use the alarm clock in the room. But there was no alarm clock in the room; and Emily had left her phone at home, too. No problem; I can fix this…we are on this trip with 18 other teens and adults…almost all of whom have their phones…because they are teens and adults (college kids are in a category all their own I guess). Therefore, I go knock on the door of one of my favorite sponsors, Heather, and request a wake-up call at 6:30.

On Sunday morning, I woke up to the sound of people talking…children, mainly. I was rather proud of myself for beating the wake-up call…but then, I wondered if it was still night time and I was awake after having only slept for about an hour and the teens had not even gone to bed yet and it was actually 3am and I would get up and shower and be ready to go in the middle of the night (so maybe I have come close to enacting this scenario before). As I lay there, deliberating over this, I decided that I had been very tired thus it was not the middle of the night because I would have slept through it. Therefore, I would go ahead and get my shower.

I exited the shower to the sound of a knock at the door. Which led to me, wrapped in a towel, trying to figure out how on earth I was supposed to get this Costa Rican hotel door open; they have this weird way of opening…which I will never be able to explain fully…but you turn all the way to the right and pull this lever thing back…suffice it to say that if you locked it from the inside, it was almost impossible to get open in a completely dark room when you are wrapped in a towel. I woke Emily up and asked her if she could open the door so that I could escape back to the bathroom. As I stood behind the partially closed bathroom door with my head pocking out, I suddenly saw a fully-dressed, Bible-holding Sonya appear in our room and the sinking/butterfly/panicked feeling began. She looked at us and immediately said “Oh, guys, I’m sorry!” We all knew what had to be done. I looked at her and said, “What time is it?” discovering that we had 5 minutes to get ready.

The next few minutes flew by in a blur of me trying to dry-off and get dressed while Emily tried to wake up and get dressed. These few minutes were stressful and do not to be dwelled upon. We got ready, grabbed our backpacks, and ran down the hall and the stairs where we immediately commenced walking down the street.

I must admit that I loved walking to the church in Costa Rica in the early morning; and on this walk, I was actually able to give the attention they demanded to my surroundings. Trucks are parked all along the sidewalks as fresh fruits, meats, sugar, and wares are all carted into the various shops and markets. Houses are in between stores and stores spring up in the center of a long row of beautiful homes. Front porches are the gathering place of the family pets and more often than not I was thankful for the walls and bars that kept their world from mine. The colors are what I love most…the peach and the blue, the purple, red, and green. Everything seems to be a giant mismatch of colors…and it’s wonderful.

Breakfast having been quickly consumed, it was time to get ready for the service. An executive decision was made (I believe by Pastor Jimmy) that all of us would be singing rather than a select few. After we had spread ourselves out through the chairs in the sanctuary, the people of the church began trickling in. There were around 15-20 Costa Rican’s in attendance…meaning we more than doubled their size.

After some congregational singing led by Jose and a greeting by the church’s pastor, Pastor Jorge, we all marched up front and offered our worship to the Lord. I enjoyed singing with the group; it felt like my old Wednesday night band days in the youth group.

Summer, Wes, and Stephen each gave their testimony after which Pastor Jimmy shared a brief message. Ronee translated the entire service: either for us or for the congregation, depending on what nationality had the floor. When Pastor Jorge stood up to preach, he looked at Wes and said, “You have the voice of a preacher.” Something about that moment just stands out to me. It is moments like this that everyone remembers; it is moments like this that Wes will need to be reminded of. I know how thankful I am when I am reminded by someone of my moments.

My favorite part of the service came when Jose sang. He has one of the most amazing voices of anyone I have ever heard. I did not know the words he was singing; but that is the beauty of music…I didn’t have to…I understood him without knowing the words. Music transcends all language barriers; it’s message can be conveyed whether or not the words are heard.

Near the close of the service, we had a “meet and greet” time. Ronee had warned us earlier that morning that many of the people would probably kiss us on the cheek so that we would not be caught off guard. Everyone was so kind and welcoming. While all I could say was “Hola!” as I smiled and nodded, I felt that these people were family; we were connected. That is one of the greatest gifts of Christianity. I have family all over the world, and while we may not understand one another’s language, we can understand one another’s hearts.

After having lunch at the church, Pastor Jorge asked if we wouldn’t mind to start working a bit that afternoon. We were a little surprised at his request, but Ronee quickly explained that, because it was the rainy season in Costa Rica, it was smart to work while conditions were good. They had not gone one day without rain for quite some time, now, and with a great chance of rain tomorrow, our work would most likely be cut short.

We had a team meeting and Pastor Jorge (with Ronee’s help) explained to us what he hoped we would accomplish during the two days we were slated to work at the church. We were to paint the church inside and out along with the roof, paint the fence and the two gates, paint the parsonage, and construct an office for the pastor by enclosing in the front of the long room we had been eating in. As Pastor Jorge listed all of these projects, I found myself slipping into my “nursing school overwhelmed” place. However, I reminded myself that we had 20 people, I was not in charge, and God would help us spruce up His house.

Thus, without much ado (but some changing of clothes…though not me and Emily because we had missed the “bring work clothes” memo with the whole not getting woken-up thing) we got to work. We swept the walls (yes, with push brooms), wiped down the window sills, sanded the old paint off the fences and gates, moved the table and chairs into the sanctuary, moved all the furniture and musical instruments from the periphery to the center of the room, and took speakers off the walls.

All the while, Mr. Jeff (an amazing handy-man and jack of all trades) along with Mr. Don and Mr. Phillip began working on the office they were constructing for Pastor Jorge…and by the time we were finished they had strategized and put up the metal frame.

When dinner was over, we once again traveled down the dark streets of Quesada…only this time we had our ponchos to deal with as it was misting…it did not start “raining” until we were safe in our rooms, praise the Lord.

Back at the hotel…

We had a pizza party in the Kihnley’s room…because we apparently needed that 4th meal after Saturday. It was so much fun…15 or so of us crowding into one of our little ice-box rooms. We laughed until we cried and then we laughed some more. Until we were asked to be quite by a lady who said she had to get up early the next morning. Thankfully, Ronee had joined the party by this time, because she did not speak English and none of us are fluent in Spanish. Eh, we laughed more after that too…we just tried to keep it down. I don’t really think we succeeded, but we tried. I am guessing everyone will be glad to see us go!

These are just some quotes from the party…you won’t understand them unless you were there…but they make me smile:

“I have a funny body!” –Heather

“It wasn’t in your face…it was at eye level!” Bieber…and his draw string pants…

“Oh, and I blogged today too.”—Jimmy
“You have dog soup??”—Heather

“Ohhh is that a pop tart?” –Bieber
“It sure is! Do you want the other one?”—Bethany as she offers it to Bieber
“Oh...its off-brand? Never mind.”—Bieber
“You don’t like my pop tarts, Alex?”—Bethany as she and the rest of us crack up
“I just can’t eat off-brand.”—Bieber

Thus ended my first full day in Costa Rica…with good friends and good food…and the accomplished feeling that I had upheld the week’s motto of “Be flexible.”

P.S. Emily and I forgave Heather…but we did appoint two different people to wake us up every morning from then on.

Heaven May Not Be the Only Place Where a Day Is Like a Thousand Years

I lived through three days today…of this I am almost sure. However, I have discovered that waking up at 2:30am apparently entitles you to 4 meals…so it all balances out in the end (some of you may say something like “the end justifies the means” but I’m not a fan of utilitarianism).

Around 4am, I arrived at the airport to meet up with my fearless companions…who looked about as ready to travel at 4:30am as the next crazy person. As I was standing with the team in our light blue “Costa Rica” shirts, created for the purpose of distinguishing ourselves from everyone else traveling that day, I realized they had already failed their purpose. Another group was standing about 2 feet away, wearing the exact same color shirt. Not only were the “Fruit Loops” in our airport, leaving at 6am, but they were flying to Miami on our same plane…perfect. Now, I never knew if their shirts actually said “Fruit Loops” or if we just called them that…but they did have a toucan on their shirt, so either way I guess they were asking for it.

Our 6am plane to Miami, p.s., was full. I don’t know why in heaven’s name people decide they want to be at an airport at 4:30am to catch a 6am flight to Miami. It’s not exactly what I would deem “prime flying time” but that’s America for you. Not me...but apparently America.

So we flew to Miami….and I sat between my dear friend Emily and Bieber (who is actually Alex…but he’s Bieber) And we sat on row 28…which is the very last row of the plane. And I used the restroom on a plane for the first time ever. And then we landed in Miami…and it was my first time in Miami. I guess I like it there. The airport’s pretty decent anyway. Though I like Orlando’s better.

So we got to Miami’s airport were we then ate….sat…talked…played cards…read books…took pictures…played more games….and then we were boarding our plane for Costa Rica!!! (We lost the Fruit Loops ‘cause they were going to Honduras).

I ended up ousting a lady from her seat on the plane to Costa Rica. You see, when I got to my seat, which was row 10, this lady was sitting in my seat (which was the middle, again…I hate the middle). So I just climbed over her to the window…because she was in my seat. At this point, she got up and moved to the aisle…which I thought was weird…but I stayed at the window…’cause I hate the middle. So then, this couple comes up and looks at the lady and the husband says (very rudely) “You’re in our seats!” And they start arguing and eventually she realizes that she is supposed to be up in row 11. Well, in row 11, Mr. Phillip and Emily were sitting…both members of my team. So I volunteered to climb out and move to the window seat..which was open in their aisle so that the lady who had originally been sitting in my seat did not have to climb over Phillip and Emily…which she readily agreed to. So I finally get to my seat when the rude man and the lady who had been in my seat start reading over her ticket to discover that she was not supposed to be in the seat I was in, but in Mr. Phillip’s seat and the man starts yelling, “He’s in your seat!! That man is in your seat!!” So we all turn around and just look at them and Mr. Phillips asks “Well, do you want this seat?” to which she replies “Well, I thought she said (pointing to me) that the window seat was my seat and my travel agent promised that I would have an aisle so we will trade later.” At which point we turned around. For about 10 minutes more, she and the rude man discussed the fact that Mr. Phillip was in her seat and then we never heard of it again…they never traded seats or anything. I, personally, found the whole thing incredible mysterious because when I first sat down, she was sitting in the middle seat of the wrong row, where I was supposed to be sitting which means that the man and his wife would have been on either side of me, when in actuality the man in his wife were sitting next to each other so in reality, they were ALL sitting in the wrong seats but yelling at Mr. Phillip. Some people’s kids…

So we are flying along…on the longest flight I have been on yet…and while I know there are longer flights, 3 hours felt like a long time…just sayin…and then, I saw it…like Wendy’s first few of Neverland:

Costa Rica!!!!

And suddenly I was walking off the plane and the first thing I saw was a Schlotzsky’s Deli kiosk and there was live jazz music. I looked at Emily and said, “I may never want to leave this place.”

Then I was picking up my luggage and going through everyone’s second favorite part of traveling: immigration—because the first, as everyone knows, is security on your way out—but then I fulfilled my life-long goal of making the immigration lady smile, so it was a good day.

My first non-aerial view of Costa Rica was a long glass corridor with a billion faces with a billion signs advertising various tourist agencies, hotels, and taxi companies pressed up against the opposing side from whence I was standing.

We walked out the doors into this massive group—and there was Ronee. Now, I didn’t know Ronee prior to coming, but many of the team already do from prior trips or teen camp (she was the speaker this year). However, everyone was talking to her as they passed by, so I assumed she was Ronee and indeed she was.

As we waited for our bus to pull up, it began to rain…and when the bus pulled up, I realized that there was no way all of us and our luggage were fitting inside that bus. It soon became apparent that our bus driver was also extremely astute as he climbed up the back of the bus onto the roof and had the boys hoist up our luggage…in the rain. I felt sorry that they had to lift up my suitcase…’cause it was pretty heavy…but that’s what happens when you are a boy. You have to lift the girl’s stuff.

Ronee is my bus buddy…which I love because she is a kindred spirit…I can already tell. We sit in the second row…which is good because the roads wound around and around and around. She and I talked about missions, and how long she has been in Costa Rica, and about my call to missions and Trevecca people we both know, and all sorts of various and sordid details.

My third meal of the day came when we were half way to our destination. We stopped at Soda Jairo’s where I at my very first authentic Costa Rica food. It was absolutely wonderful! I had steak and rice and black beans and potatoes cooked in this red sauce and it was all delicious! I also had my first experience of eating in a restaurant where no one other than us Nashville folks spoke English—p.s. I don’t speak Spanish…I took French…yeah. I have a feeling it was only the first of many times during which I will be extremely thankful to have a Ronee...

After eating at the Soda (which, it turns out, is a colloquial term for a little family owned or one-man restaurant…the owner just puts their name in front) and driving up…and down (which was still up…don’t ask, it’s Dr. Seuss Land)…and down…and up…we finally arrived at our hotel in the middle of Quesada, CR: Hotel Cristal.

My roomie is Emily (I love her…she and I were the best worst counselors ever last year at kids camp) and we are livin’ it up in room 10…come see us!! But you will have to sit on our beds…or on the floor…and our only floor space is in between our beds…and it’s like a small hallway…a very small hallway…and Emily’s bed is a twin…but mine is a full…and everyone keeps asking how that happened…and I tell them it’s because I am a big person and big people need big beds…and the door practically hits Emily’s bed when you open it…and the bathroom is the size of a colonial closet…and in case you don’t like history it means extremely tiny…but all in all it is actually not that bad. While our air conditioner is merely a fan, it does not seem to be too warm in our room, and in fact, about 1am, I found myself awake and reaching for the blanket.

After surveying our tiny kingdom, Ems and I decided to try out the beds and the TV…on which we found two American stations…and then I feel asleep…’cause I had been up since 2:30am…but we had to be up by 6pm to head over to the church for dinner…our 4th meal. At the church, we met Pastor Jorge, Hosea, and Anna. We are not sure who belongs to who, but they are all extremely kind and Anna is an amazing cook!

Finally, we headed back to the hotel for some much needed sleep…they told us we were walking 7 blocks…but I think it was quite a bit more. I am not sure how much more, though, because I was mainly trying to not fall down. There are many holes and ditches and dogs and loose rocks and uneven pavement that needed to be traversed on the not-very-well-lit streets of Quesada.

By the time I finished getting ready for bed, Ems was already gone…so I turned off the light and laid there. But it was too dark…and I just couldn't deal…and I felt like I was still moving…because we had been traveling for the past 3billion hours…so…I turned on the TV. I found an American channel…and set the sleep timer. I love sleep timers—and I was asleep in minutes.

And that, my friends, was Saturday.