Monday, April 12, 2010

Weekend Adventure: Irritated Bowels on the Bus


As a child I was very imaginative. My teachers always told me I was in “LaLa Land” and I was always caught staring into space letting my wild imagination take me places I could never really go. I loved playgrounds. I remember in my early elementary school years running around the playground by myself. I loved how they put steering wheels on the playground. The entire structure became my spaceship as I steered it through the deep unknowns of the universe and the next day it would be my submarine as I explored the deepest depths of the sea. Everyday it was something new, and I was always in control manning my steering wheel. I suppose I always knew I was just playing around, but I remember one day when I fully realized that the steering wheel was attached to the bars of the playground and served absolutely no purpose. I was disappointed. Since being in Kazakhstan, I have done a lot of worrying about my future, but I have finally reached the point where I can’t do it anymore. I am not sure if it is a small dose of apathy, or if I have finally come around to trusting Jesus. I feel like I’m on the playground again. I have been trying to steer my life through the obstacles of this world, but I have finally come to the conclusion that the steering wheel I have been grasping is not connected to anything, its just a toy. I find the whole situation quite humorous, really. But the truth is I have realized that I have no control over my life except for my day to day choices. I might be able to plan ahead a little, but my plans will be stopped, they will be changed and corrupted. So I am done planning. I am done worrying. I really believe that tomorrow will worry about itself. Even though the steering wheel is fun to turn and play with, I’m not in control. This world, this life, is too big for me to handle in one sitting.

Last night one of my students, who is an older man that always gives us a ride home, invited me downstairs to play ping-pong. Even though I am a terrible ping-pong player, it was really fun. It was something small, but it made me appreciate life, appreciate the little things that make up life. Life is good.


I promised that I would tell you about my weekend all throughout this weekend so here it goes:
We finally met up with the girls, and got a ride to the bus station. Everyone was a little mad at me because I, of course, was running late. It was due to bad planning on my part and some rumbling in my stomach. I was worried to embark on a 13 hour bus ride with my stomach feeling so uneasy, but I certainly was not going to stay behind. I went to the bathroom before we got on the bus and determined that I should be fine. We got on the bus with time to spare and pretty soon we were heading for Turkistan. We left at around 6:00pm and drove all night. I sat in my seat and my stomach, instead of feeling better was churning more than ever. Emily gave me some medicine and I had an apple thinking that would help. But, as we started driving, I knew I was in trouble. I was in pain and extreme discomfort. I closed my eyes and gasped for air as I clutched the arm rest. Pretty soon, Steven was asking if I was ok and Emily came to sit closer to me as she gave her kind empathy that only women can give. I struggled, knowing that something needed to come out, but I wasn’t sure which end it was heading for. (sorry for the graphic presentation) After awhile they went to ask the bus driver if we would be stopping soon. He said that it would be two hours and that there would be no exceptions. I frantically told them that I didn’t need the bus to stop just for me, but as the discomfort and horrible feeling escalated, I desperately wished the bus would just stop. I felt as though my insides were exploding and that I couldn’t breathe. It was horrible. Emily tried to get me to drink some carbonated water, but nothing helped. Soon the bus driver stopped (I think something was wrong with the bus because there were men under it with their tools). I took the opportunity and made for the exit. Veronica handed me a roll of toilet paper with a huge smile and said, “Words on your page, words on your page.” I groaned thinking that these were not the words I wanted on my page, but appreciating her optimism nonetheless. I went to this little white building, which I found out was just a slab of concrete. A bunch of men were peeing, and I frantically looked around knowing that I needed to more than what they were doing and I didn’t want to do it on their shoes. I made for a field, found a ditch, and the rest is history. I took deep breaths of the fresh air and walked around. After a few more swigs of gas water and some charcoal pills I was feeling much better. I had cooked the day before and everyone said they had stomach problems afterwards so maybe there were some rotten tomatoes in my salsa or something. As I sat in my seat after all the commotion, I was struck by the post-sick feeling. After feeling so horrible for so long, I felt better, and I was thankful for everything. I just sat in my seat for hours listening to my iPod and pondering how great my life was. I didn’t get much sleep and bus was hardly comfortable, but we made it to Turkistan by morning and the adventure just kept going and going...

1 comment:

  1. so i didn't read this one but i'm i read the author one....very very good. but thats no the point of this message. the point is that you should get twitter. nuff said. get twitter....