Beyond Coconut Milkshakes

Happiness is also being led by God, step by step--not seeing through the fog of uncertainty at first, but looking back and realizing that it has parted.

I spent seven happy months in one country, then the word came to leave. There was chaos in leaving, but not so much pain, because I still have a strong inner sense that I'll return.

Still, I felt unanchored to arrive in a modern and wealthy city, so far removed from the developing country I left. Two days of respite in a bed and breakfast style place, then all I knew was that I was to show up at a Friday morning service and meet my new hosts. I was scared, but I pasted the smile on, prayed (okay, hopefully in reverse order), and went. The speaker called my friends and me up front and said, "Sign up if you want to host any of these people in your home!" Yeah, like a cattle auction. What if I didn't get picked? Well, I didn't have to worry because the capable secretary already had a list of people willing to take us in. (Yep, better to sign up for something like this before seeing what you're getting.)

They said, "You'll be staying with a Nigerian family, and some of your friends will stay with an Indian family nearby." Okay. They took us to pick up our luggage, treated us to lunch, and brought us home. I was humbled that these folks welcomed us sight unseen, because we were brothers and sisters. My hostess took us grocery shopping that same day, and she was offended when I picked up my own basket. Everything had to go in her basket, on her credit card. I'm sure thankful, because when I went back to buy a few of my own groceries a week or two later, I almost cried at the food prices. They weren't actually so different from home (except maybe the $6 milk), but food is expensive, unless you stick with lentils. If you shop, you know that.

We settled in with our hosts, we bought metro cards and explored the city. But I knew that it was temporary, until the Next Thing.

So I spent two weeks in the big city, then I moved two hours away, across another country border, after an overnight visit hinted that this was a good next stop. I knew that someone was going back a few days later, and she said I could ride with her. I was to arrive at 9:00 or 10:00 PM, and I didn't know where I was going to stay that night. Again, I was scared. But I went, and the lady who drove me took me in. And she asked a single gal she knew if I could room with her for a few weeks. And she said yes. And here I am two and a half weeks later.

Then I met a lady from New Zealand who told me about the institute where she teaches English. And she described the city in glowing terms, and she said I could come visit. So I researched the bus. And I checked around to make sure it was safe. Then I went! And guess what? It was safe. And my hostess rolled out the red carpet and took me sightseeing. And her boss invited me to workshop where a guest lecturer from a well known university was lecturing, and one of her students is an old friend from Indianapolis. And the boss's family had me over for Easter dinner (I wouldn't have done anything to celebrate otherwise), and he arranged and paid for a taxi three hours back to my language school town. (I puzzled a moment over what to call it. I don't think that a town where I'm living for four weeks qualifies as a "hometown.")

In the meantime, I've been having some trouble contacting my travel agent to arrange my return flight. I purchased a round-trip ticket before I left, but the airline had a right to charge me $225 in change fees for flying out of a different city than that of the original booking. Again, I didn't know how things would work out. But I finally connected with my travel agent last week and last night, and guess what? The airline will waive the change fees (it probably helps that they no longer fly out of the other city), and there is no fare difference that I have to make up.

So I booked the flight, but not knowing how I was going to get to the city I'm flying out of, two hours away. Two hours is a big deal if you don't have a car and don't have close enough friends (or siblings--a shout out to mine!) to ask to drive you. Oh yeah, and you have to cross a country border, too. Stamp out, stamp in . . . sounds a little bit like that old cheerleading chant: "Get up, get down, pass it all around . . . " But today a girl in language school said that she wants to go to the city on our break to get some things, and it doesn't really matter to her when she goes, so she thinks she can take me. And she doesn't mind driving me an extra hour-plus to stamp out of this country before entering the other. "I like to drive."

Do you sense a common theme? I do. I'm thinking that the same God who moved the fire and cloud, and who parted the waters is still on the job today. It wasn't clear when I set out. But looking back, as he's moved each new obstacle, I almost get the chills.

My part? To follow, and not to be afraid.

No job when I get home? No fear. No car? No fear. No obvious way to pay the expenses through the summer? No fear. Not sure when I'll return, or where? No fear.

I'll let you know in a while how it turns out! These situations are turning into the best stories!