The Un-Settling…

Today I was reminded of the reason I cannot seem to get ahead these days.  All of this moving around leaves you feeling very unsettled, and that is unsettling.  I am consistently feeling like I am not at home (because really I am not), and I can’t seem to find rest since I am always walking on egg shells…trying not to impose or annoy both our hosts and my team.

Before coming on this trip, I thought I was prepared.  I moved around as a kid, I haven’t lived with family for almost 8 years now, and I lived internationally for a year.  But nothing could prepare me for the unsettling feeling of being unsettled.  We have moved every month, and sometimes more often than that.

Just yesterday we were approached at our host’s home by moving men and the sheriff.  They had a court order to evict all of us (host and guest alike) due to some legal matter with our host.  So we packed our bags as the men threw all of the family’s possessions onto the street.  Our Spirits were still high as we ate all the perishables on the curbside until the Pastor (our contact) showed up and rushed us away before the media could get there.  We are currently staying at his house, eight people in one little room, until our host gets things sorted.  Though, we are most likely here at Pastor’s home until the end of our stay here.

Laura and I eating the perishables wondering what eviction day will hold.

Last night I lay in my mosquito net, aware of the roaches, ants, and that HUGE spider that crawled on my leg right before bed.  I lay in a house that gets water once a week.  I lay in a home with my 7 teammates plus the 11 people that lived there to begin with.  I lay there and mourn the feeling that I was finally settling into our first home in Zimbabwe only to lose it.  I lay there and mourn the feeling of entitlement that I have to constantly replace with gratitude.  I lay there and mourn the Zim-family I will probably not see again, knowing that I didn’t get to say goodbye.  And I can only stop the crying when I am tired enough to believe that it will be better in the morning.

AND as always, it truly is better in the morning.

I am blessed to be in the home with Pastor, Mama Pastor, and the 9 others including a couple little ones.  The baby cries when any of the white people get too close, but I know I will hold her before our time here is up.

And over breakfast, I had a heart to heart with a teammate about how exhausting it is to be a guest for a year, and how unsettled I feel.  She had advice on being open to have God show me what it means to be at home in Him.  And to learn to refresh, rest, and be free in a place that isn’t my own.

There is so much to learn, but I know that God has good plans for these next couple months.  As my stress levels seem to skyrocket, I just need to know that it’s okay.

(PS.  As I type this, one of the little ones, a three year old boy named courage, plopped down next to me and is splitting my headphones with me.  As he listens to my indie music he tries to speak to me in Shona (not knowing that I haven’t a clue what he is saying), and I am limited to saying; hi, thanks, yes, no, and porridge.  He does get excited when I say porridge.  And sometimes he tries to sing along with the music.  Gosh, he is so cute.  Gosh, I am so blessed)

To see my Fundraiser Flyer see: http://carolineritchey.theworldrace.org/?filename=fundraiser-flyer-and-birthday-photo

Another African Bus

I woke to the sound of people packing far too early in the morning.  But alas, we had to be ready and out the door at 5am.  Loaded into minibuses and shipped to the border, the sun began to rise.  We had our exit visas for Zambia and had to cross by foot over the Zambezi River to Zimbabwe.  From the bridge, we could catch glimpses of Victoria Falls…but I will be kicking myself for weeks for not taking a photo.  It was gorgeous but at the moment all I could think was “this is a long 2k to the border” and “this bag is heavy”.  Perhaps someone thought to snap one…but alas.

We got another full page Visa to enter Zimbabwe which gets me nervously close to a full passport.  I might have to add pages soon.   If I don’t count the one page I will need for my Cambodian full pager entry visa, then I have two blank ones left.  So….yeah.

Anyway, on to van with a trailer for our packs, where we are informed that the route we were going to take up to Harare, the capital, is a washed out dirt road so we have to go the long way.  For the sake of ease, I am in Van 2.  Van 1 in front pulls over with an axil on the trailer messing up.  They tie it up and search for a welder.  Many stops…no welder, no electricity, no help.  Then we see the other side of Van 1’s axil bite it and smoke starts to billow with a horrid burning tire smell.  Tied it up better this time since we used the jack.

Finally we stop for a couple hours to get the whole axil welded back on.  By this time it is 2:30pm.  We and you have to remember the hour we left that morning.  However we only traveled perhaps 200k or like 120miles.  We continued onward, getting stopped every twenty or thirty minutes to pay off the corrupt cops at the road blocks.  Then cue Van 2’s engine trouble.  The noise started a while ago…but we tried to ignore it.  Then the smell followed, and the fact that we kept losing gas.  So another couple hour stop happened to fix that.

We drove through the night, with a poor food-poisoned Squadmate having to run off into the bush every so often.  And of course the road blocks with the corrupt cops.  Misunderstandings with our drivers added to the time lost and we found ourselves here in Harare at 7:30am.

An 8 hour bus ride…taking over 24hrs…with only 3 cans of juice and 4 chip bags to get me through.  But God did it.

Our new contact so nicely offered to let us have this first day off since we traveled all night, and we will discuss later with him what we will be doing all month.  He mentioned something about a church plant here in the city, but we will see.  Happy to be here though.