“Aaap!!” I heard a squeal burst from another student missionary’s mouth only to be quickly squelched by her hand. “Maybe we should just look away,” one whispered. “Yeah, I’m covering my eyes!” It was our first experience on Bolivian mountain roads as we slid back and forth up the winding dirt trail. And that was how one of our many adventures this last week began.
The first adventure started last Wednesday as I nervously waved goodbye to my family, walking to my gate with my 40 pound backpack and suitcase. I was clinging to my little suitcase. After all, that is what has gone with me on nearly every adventure since I left home three years ago! Somehow I felt a little more secure with it in my hand. The first flight went by quickly, and I was soon in South Carolina. I marched across the airport, dragging my bag, and got ready to board my next flight. To my dismay, an airline employee took one look at my little suitcase and said “You need to check that. It’s oversized.” Now I know what size my suitcase is, and it’s very close to oversized, but it’s not quite! I also had 20 vials of lidocaine in it and knew they couldn’t get too cold. “It’s temperature sensitive,” I said. “That doesn’t matter. You can’t take it on the plane.” “But,” I began to protest, “It fit just fine on the last—” The employee looked at me in anger and cut me off, saying, “I’m not going to argue with you. You check your bag or find another flight.” Even though it was a silly little thing, tears of frustration and being overwhelmed filled my eyes as I muttered sadly, “You didn’t have to be rude about it,” and opened my bag and pulled out the medication to put in my backpack. I handed him my bag, thanked him, and walked on the plane, telling God that I’d needed to keep that bag in case the others were lost and it wasn’t fair.
Suddenly I felt like God elbowed me and told me to stop whining. It was like he said, “you needed that bag to be checked and you weren’t exactly making it easy for him to take it!” I boarded the plane, a little less upset, and continued on to Miami.
Upon arrival, I had to run as I tried to get through international check-in and security before it closed. As I stood at the check-in area, the man asked me to weigh my backpack. His eyebrows raised as he realized my backpack was far above the 22 pound carry-on weight limit. He looked at me with my hair disheveled, puffing from running across the building, and chuckled. “Just take it,” he said. I gratefully took my bag and continued on. As I walked, God reminded me about my dense suitcase carry-on. If they had weighed that, I would have had to check it, which would have costed $150. My mind flooded with gratefulness as I realized God knew what He was doing so much better than I did. I was reminded that I didn’t need my suitcase or anything else with me, because I wasn’t traveling alone; I had the God of the universe as my guide.
I soon found the other student missionaries and we slept through an uneventful flight. When we stepped off the plane Thursday morning, everything was a blur, from climbing off the plane to making our way through a very long customs line. After a few minutes in the airport, the customs line was gone and what became clear was that we were the only ones not allowed to enter the country. The hours ticked by as I sat on the floor in front of the immigration and visa officers with these people I had barely known a few short hours before. I was becoming comfortable with them quite quickly. Our prayers went up through the ceiling as we hoped that those outside the airport picking us up would be able to help. Finally a kind immigration officer assisted us in figuring out the issue and we continued on to customs. God guided our 25+ precious supply suitcases through without questioning or searching and within a few minutes, we were standing in the chilly morning air of Santa Cruz.
Getting ready to leave Miami
From the airport, we took taxis to an Adventist TV station compound, where we settled for the week so that we could get our visas.
Everything was new—the food (which was very delicious), the landscape, freezing weather, and a different language.
One evening, a family at the compound asked us in Spanish if we would be willing to meet and play soccer with them if we were good. Unfortunately for them, with our limited Spanish we didn’t catch the “if we were good” portion! None of us 5 girls play soccer very well, so they got very different teammates than they were expecting! They were great sports though and offered to let us play again another day.
A guava empanada
That wasn’t our only mistake in the past week! From our church sandals to not finishing the giant food portions the first day, to being early to events, we have stuck out. One cook shook her head and said it was the last straw when she was convinced we didn’t like her food, and we had to earnestly convince her in our best Spanish that we loved it, our stomachs were just really full! From then on, we decided our team name was “The Last Straws.” We’re currently in the process of trying to earn a better name, but it’s taking some time!
Friday ticked by as we waited in lines for visa paperwork. We arrived home at sunset and sat together on our suitcases for hours, singing and sharing how we’d seen God working so clearly through the last few days. Kneeling in that small circle of student missionaries having sundown prayer, my heart swelled with gratefulness as I realized how incredibly blessed I am to be sent here with such inspiring people—and amazing singers too! God not only has control of the big things, but the little things too.
A beautiful Sabbath followed, full of sunshine and beautiful walks. Saturday night, we were invited to join a volleyball tournament until late, making many friends in the process. When we accepted the invitation, we asked how we were going to get there. To our surprise, we found ourselves standing on the side of the road in the dark, waving down taxis and then squishing in so tight that we couldn’t even bounce when the potholes came. It was fun adventure!
Our Sabbath walk
The next morning, our hosts graciously offered to show us their mountain compound, and we packed our backpacks, squeezing into the director of the tv station’s and missionary David Gates’s cars in which the aforesaid bumpy mountain ride ensued. What we found at the end of the trip was absolutely spectacular! Miles upon miles of rugged mountains lay under a star-filled sky and wisps of cloud-like color swirled through the Milky Way. We sat in awe in the valley for a long time. It was unlike anything I had ever seen (pictured at the beginning)
An early sunrise followed with more exploring of the developing mountain mission. Soon we found ourselves bumping down the mountain to the little town of Semaipata, to fascinating Incan ruins, and back to Santa Cruz.
The mountains
And that brings us to today, where I am sitting in line again, waiting for more visa paperwork! We have been so blessed by the generous missionary families that are hosting us. While the eight of us can’t wait to get to Familia Feliz, we are grateful for the time to bond as a student missionary family that God has blessed us with this past week. Soon we hope to be on a 20 hour bus ride, headed to the rainforest where Familia Feliz is and starting a second week with plenty of new adventures!