Interests:old movies. new music. foreign food. exciting places. all kinds of people. going home. being different. Expertise:seeing what many people fail to see. Occupation:Student
"I HAVE LICE TOO!!! Mom just told me you have it too. Well, I had it last week...I THINK it's a gone now. I used a special shampoo but then my friend Melissa Miller who is a nurse told me that it suffocates them if you smear mayo all over your head and then wrap it in clingwrap stuff for a couple hours...then wash with a strong, yummy smelling shampoo a couple times until you don't smell like mayo anymore. I really think it did work.
It's not a biggie - I know it's gross but really everyone gets it at some point. I've just had it for the first time ever. We're linked as sisters cross-continentially in weird ways, aye?"
Though I graduated three months ago, I feel like this road trip was the beginning of my life after college. Working at camp was a fabulous experience, but it’s something I’ve done before. Driving up the west coast while the rest of my friends returned to school is another story. Instead of scheduling classes and seeing friends after a summer gone by, I have been seeing the world and meeting all the kinds of people who inhabit it. Through my interaction with such people and places, I have learned three basic truths:
1) People exist everywhere and are living their lives even though I know nothing about them.
Out there is David, a 27-year-old ex-Ohio’an who spent six months hiking the Appalachian Trail and a summer riding his bike across America--all for Africa. Yet he feels has hasn’t done much with his life.
Lisa and Jen are two sisters who worked at Yosemite National Park this summer. We had a mutual friend, so they let us crash on the floor of their tent frame. When I asked Jen what she had done the last three summers at Yosemite, she responded by saying, “The first summer I hiked a lot, the second summer I drank a lot, and this summer I’ve done a combination of both.” I had just wanted to know if she worked in the gift shop the entire time, but oh well.
There’s also the Potters, a couple who lives their lives simply on a ranch in Northern California. No high speed Internet, no cable--just a VHS recording of an old Dolly Parton movie and a garden across the road. Though they live simply, they blessed me with much. After sleeping on the floor for a week, the opportunity to sleep in a bed made me feel like a celebrity. When I asked Mrs. Potter if the other bed in the room was for Jay, she laughed and said no. Later I heard her tell her husband, “Hope asked if Jay was sleeping in the same room. Isn’t that the funniest thing?” I decided not to mention that while I had been sleeping on the floor for the past week, Jay had been right beside me.
San Francisco is home to a collection of interesting characters. A man covered from head to toe in silver clothing and makeup, a creepy ballerina, a Star Wars storm trouper, a clown on a unicycle, and most importantly, Bushman:
In Dayton, Oregon, the Stoutenburgs are loving life, despite the fact that the Bigfoot sighting was proven false. They were really bummed about that one. We were treated to a cookout at Grandma Stoutenburgs, where the garden gnomes were plentiful and the broccoli coleslaw was made fun of (though I enjoyed it). As the humid afternoon dragged on, we fanned ourselves on the couch and watched VH1’s top 100 songs from the 90s. The adults finally made us get up to take a family picture. Erin and I were in them the one with the kids. When we were leaving the next morning, I thanked Papa Stoutenburg for letting us stay with them. I also told him they are some of the funniest people I have met. “Truth is,” he said as he leaned in, “we were drunk the whole time.” A laugh escaped me as I looked at his expressionless face. Was he kidding?
Donald Miller lives in Portland, Oregon, and opens his house up to anyone who needs a place to stay. Not only did he accommodate us, he also treated us to coffee, a delicious Lebanese lunch, candy (I tried to pay, but the cashier favored his cash to my credit card), a movie (we switched rows every 10 minutes), and dinner. We spent one evening watching the Olympics and eating macaroni & cheese, chicken nuggets, and barbecue wings. He would wow us with stories about his friend Bob, and make us laugh hard enough to burn off those chicken nuggets. Also, he is a kind and forgiving man. I think we’ll be friends for a while.
I went to high school with Eric Reynolds. I haven’t talked to him in more than four years, and we were never even that great of friends. He just so happened to be in Seattle when we needed a place to stay. He let us sleep on the floor in his living room and gave us a personal tour of the city. Seattle is a lively place—people are always smiling or throwing fish or playing music.
The Wheelers were camping in Morro Bay, California, and pitched a tent for us to stay in. Jackie and I have been friends since we worked at camp two summers ago, and her two younger sisters were even my campers one week. I woke up and climbed out of the tent early in the morning and sat by the fire with her family. We drank hot chocolate and told stories and laughed. Few times in my life have a felt more content. We spent the afternoon hiking, stopping only to take this Garden State like picture:
Erin Bibelheimer is also a friend from camp two years ago. She lives in Los Angeles and has a wonderful mother and adorable adopted brother. For dinner we had Fah (Vietnamese soup). I found out later that cow intestines were part of the ingredients. So that’s what that slimy meat was.
2) It’s possible to enjoy every moment.
So many times on this trip I wanted to scream. Like when our window wouldn’t roll up at Yosemite, which results in a $5000 fine if left unattended. Or when we drove for 30 hours, only stopping for gas and pie. Or when I was tired and cranky and just wanted to be alone, but couldn’t be.
But through it all I learned how to enjoy it all. “Life is the sum total of what you do with the moments given to you,” Erwin McManus told me in his book Chasing Daylight. So we would make the car rides fun—singing Creed at the top of our lungs (yes, as a joke), stopping by random places (The Legend of Bigfoot store place thingy—don’t worry, we sent the Stoutenburgs a post card), and parking by the ocean when we had to sleep for a few hours at 5 a.m.
Not everything in life is fun and wonderful. But if you look and try hard enough, I’m convinced you can enjoy any situation.
3) God’s love is huge.
I wanted to find more of God as I saw more of the world. And boy, did I ever. As I drove through Oregon at 3 a.m. with the moon reflecting on the lake beside the mountain, I heard his words clearly spoken, “I love you.” Driving by a bunch of nothingness with the setting sun reflecting on the dancing clouds, “I love you.” Hiking up a mountain and feeling like I was dying with each step, but then being treated by a gust of wind to cool me down or two strangers (angles) giving me their water, “I love you.” Reaching the top of the mountain and seeing the most magnificent view of my life, “I love you.”
These words, pictures, and videos do little to convey my actual experience. There are so many more stories, people, and lessons learned. I went on this road trip for fun, and fun I had. Even more significant, however, were the unexpected obstacles and the inconvenient truths I encountered. I came back a completely changed person.
I feel like this was the perfect preparation for India. I learned how to live without straighteners and curling irons. I learned how to shamelessly urinate by a rocks, oceans, and fields. I slept on the floor, in the car, in a tent, anywhere. I was challenged physically, emotionally, and spiritually. All the while my mind was clouded with thoughts of Toledo, and how my friends are there doing the things I’ve done so many times before. But this time without me.
Then I would remind myself of God’s purpose for my life. Erwin says it like this, “You were born to live a great adventure; you were created with a divine destiny; you are called to fulfill a great mission. You were designed for a unique purpose. Now you are called to live it out.”
Okay, okay, I’m going. Today, actually. I’m not nervous. I haven’t packed. There’s not much to pack when you are going to live in poverty.
Here are my expectations: I expect it to be hard. I’ll be terribly lonely at times. I’ll get frustrated and discouraged. But in those times I’ll draw closer to Christ, and as a result feel more alive than I’ve ever been.
All I know is that I want all of my life to be an adventure. So often people talk of things they dream of doing, but never follow through. I'd rather have a difficult life than a boring one.
I've been eating a lot of peaches lately. And watching one episode of Gilmore Girls every night. And thinking about life. And not packing for India. And meeting these lovely ladies in Carey, Ohio...
Updates about my road trip will come, I promise. I think.
"Did you do this on purpose?" I asked my mom after noticing she was cooking curry chicken for dinner. "No, why?" She stared at me blankly. "Because I'm going to India this week."
And then, later that night...
"Why don't you have any friends?" I asked my parents. "Because everyone our age is bald and in a nursing home." My 52-year-old father replied.
And finally,
"You know, sometimes I use words, but I have no idea what they mean. Like, I use the word 'established,' but I have no idea what it means." -Paul, my 11-year-old brother
