There are moments here that I realize in the name of “adventure” I do things here that may or may not be just stupid….and things that I may or may not tell my family for a few months until after I safely return.
Like fly to another far-away city without someone who speaks Chinese fluently….and without having a hotel booked for the entire stay.
Take a bus on a seven-hour, two-lane highway ride through the mountains from that city to a Tibetan mountain town.
Stay in the home of a T*bet*n family (when the hostel we wanted to stay at was full).
Communicate the whole weekend with the T family in both of our second languages (Chinese).
Eat yak meat and drink butter tea (I don’t recommend the tea…).
Barter with and subsequently take a black taxi (illegal taxi) up a snowy mountain.
Almost die on the same mountain due to altitude sickness, freezing temperatures, and lack of sufficient nutrition.
Buy a coat in a Tibetan village….because sometimes its worth 200 yuan just to be warm.
Meet and ride back down the mountain with a Tibetan monk in that same black taxi….in the rain and fog.
Take a cable car up another mountain to a temple….in the rain.
Meet a really cool coffeshop owner….and get free biscotti from him.
Take the bus back down through the mountains, on the same two-lane highway (only having the trip take 9 hours this time).
Find our hotel in the dark…and then eat muslim noodles in an alley at 10pm.
Visit pandas at the nature reserve.
Find out at starbucks that I’m officially an aunt (welcome to the world, little baby Jack!)
And fly safely back home…..(and eating a pomegranate on the plane with my roomie that I bought four days before from a street vendor…and subsequently dragged around with me on the entire trip – since I kept forgetting to eat it. :S).
Sometimes, I think that in the midst of our silly and sometimes crazy (and stupid) adventures, He gives extra grace (and protection)…and uses these “out-of-the-comfort zone” experiences to force us to rely on Him, stretch our faith, and open our eyes to the world around us.
But amazingly, it really wasn’t the crazy “adventure moments” that stood out to me the most from this trip, but the people we met while in the midst of them.
Like our taxi drivers who language-fumbled with us…street food vendors who told us about their lives…noodle shop owners who gave us extra portions….random fellow black taxi commuters who survived the mountain trek with us…bus drivers who may or may not have spit at other drivers on the road….and of course, our host family who opened up their home (and outhouse! :) to us.
It is through my life intersecting with the lives of random people like this that I am reminded why I like china so much….and why this is where He has me right now.
The people.
They are what makes me love this place so much. Sure, they are sinful and wicked and super frustrating at times…but for some reason, I just love them….and I know that He does, too.
