On Feb 23, 2016 I left for the airport to catch a plane to Toronto. From Toronto I flew to Panama City, then to Santa Cruz, and then finally to Cochabamba. I was going to be in Cochabamba, Bolivia for almost two weeks on a missions trip with twenty- some other people. Some of the people were from my church, some were from another church, and the rest were from NBBI. Our group was going down to Bolivia to work with a Bolivian couple, Jamie and Sandra, and their two daughters, Kendra and Cassandra. We were going to be working in the poorest section of Cochabamba, the brick yards. Our goal was to build a 90 foot brick wall and to install a running bath and shower house.
This was going to be my first missions trip and the first time that I was going to be flying without my parents. I knew going into the trip that we were going to be doing hard work and that it wasn't going to be anything glamorous. I expected to see and be exposed to conditions and situations that I would never see here in Canada. I also expected to be put in situations that were out of my comfort zone. But in spite of all that I was excited to go. I couldn't wait to get on the plane and start the trip.
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I wasn't nervous or scared. In fact, the only times I got nervous was the first few times I had to check in my luggage and when we had to fill out these very long immigration forms before we landed in South
I had stopped working after our daughter was born to be a full time stay at home mom, so it was just going to be me and her 24/7 for the next two weeks. For weeks leading up to his trip it was all I could think about and it kept me up at night. My husband had been in the Navy for almost 8 years at this point and had been on two Middle East deployments in our marriage so I was no stranger to being alone, but this time was different, this time I had another tiny human being that I loved more than anything in this world to keep
As my father and I finally fit the statue of the little Virgin Mary in the back of the car, it was time to get on the road. I could already taste the guavas from my great grandfather’s ranch. Feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. The smell of my aunt’s cooking. Hearing the excitement of my great grandmother’s voice. I wanted to be there already, be in the beautiful country of Mexico. My thoughts wandered as we left my house. How much welcome, love, and the sadness of leaving was going to happen. It was too soon to find out.
exciting and thought of it like more of an adventure as it was a new
It was back in the summer of 2004 when all was calm. The trees filled w/ dry green leaves, the grass barely green as patches of yellowness overcame its dried burned look, dandelions arose in monstrous amounts as the white cotton-like blooms of a dandelion flutter in the midst of an arid breeze, and visions of heat waves could clearly be noticed along a paved street on a clear afternoon. Yep, this truly was mid summer. But I do prefer summer over winter any day of the year. Around the hottest time of the year, a.k.a. middle of July, my church travels on a mission trip over to the Appalachia Mountains to help people in poverty rebuild their homes. I, among 14 other youths and leaders enjoy this yearly mission trip. Only to leave one week after my birthday the ASP (Appalachia Service Project) crew fled the town of Glen Ellyn and headed east towards the mountainous Appalachia Mountains. The mission had not only been to help people in distress but to also give an insight on personal faith, life, love, friendship, and a better understanding on why we are really here and why we have chosen to come here, as certain personality traits that we possess are revealed throughout the trip. I do remember last year's trip very clearly, and we've had just a few major dilemmas, but this year just clearly out does last year in every way, shape and form.
Our hard times were finally over. When you return to the U.S. after being deported, you’re supposed to go into an office to get your file which contains various letters from lawyers and other important information. My mother and I were looking for the office, quickly turning our heads left and right and right to left, because we couldn’t wait for this nightmare to be completely over. As we were about to head in, an officer denied my entrance. Apparently, our endless plane ride wasn’t enough and we had to wait three hours more listening to the intercom repeating flight numbers and different destinations and arrivals. However, after seeing the look on my mother’s face- which expressed happiness, consolation, and an incredible amount of pride-
It was June 18th, 2007 in Trinidad, CA. It was John, Matt, and I on a journey. We were walking through the woods of the Dry Lagoon State Park on the hunt for “The Thing.” We have been researching this thing for a couple years now and we think that we have narrowed it down to where it could be. It was a nice warm day, and the sun was shining through the branches of the tall trees. The birds were chirping, and I could hear the deer snapping the dead branches that lie on the ground. “Did you hear that?” said Matt. “Yeah, what was it?” I responded, pointing to the area the noise came from, “I think it came from over there.” Matt, John, and I slowly approached the spot where the noise was heard. Suddenly John screamed, “Watch out!” then right as I looked over, there was a huge creature, with dark hair and was at least 7 feet tall.
dollars for his help. Many of us, mostly all young men, were driven in a van out into the desert. We carried a couple bottles of water and a few other things in our bags. We started walking. We walked and walked, following a man who said he knew where we were going. We walked all day and into the night. I finished my water, and I was very thirsty and weak. The man told us that we were crossing into America now, and we would be safe soon. Just when we started to believe we would make it, we heard the noise of a helicopter. Soon, we were flooded with light from above. The helicopter landed, and we were surrounded by men in uniforms, all speaking English very quickly. They gave us some water, and after an hour or two, they loaded us onto a bus that had come to take us away. It was horrible. They took us right back to Mexico and dropped us across the border. I don 't give up easily, though. After a few days of rest, I tried again. This time I made it and here I am! (qtd. in Limón)
We held vacation bible schools at three different locations, played movies in the village centers, had forum talks for high schoolers as well as house visits for the elderly, and built two kitchens along with a house. While doing all of this, I grew to have so much adoration for the city. I had never felt so alive and like I was fulfilling my calling. My team and I became the best of friends and were literally on a high that drugs can not compare to. Along with making connections with my fellow servants, I became head over heels in love with the Guatemalan children.
For the past two summers I have traveled to Tijuana, Baja California, Mexico to work with Spectrum Ministries Inc., serve the city’s people, and share with them the love of Jesus Christ. The summation of people I’ve met, experiences I’ve had, and lessons I’ve been taught has allowed the city a permanent spot in my heart. Going on these mission trips require leaving my family and friends for weeks, leaping out of my comfort zone, and allowing myself to be stretch physically, mentally, and spiritually. In hindsight, giving up the amenities that I have grown so accustomed to having was a minute price to pay for the abundant reward I found in looking into the eyes and hearts of the people of Tijuana. The call to go on a mission trip to another Before the summer of 2014, I had done local and state service projects but never been on a large-scale mission trip, and had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into-
The trip opened my eyes and I was grateful for the opportunity to share what God had given to me. Another task we had the privilege of helping them with was building a new chicken coop. We built a new roof and cleaned it up so that the chickens wouldn’t get too hot. The tricky part was communicating that we built exactly what they wanted. Therefore, I was there to both help construct, but also help get communication between us and the owners under control.
There I was introduced to a new world formed by people from different regions of the globe with various languages, religions, cultural and ethnic backgrounds.The experience was surreal, despite having some difficult times. Canada is like a mosaic because it is filled with a large variety of distinct cultures; while embracing them all, I learned to become more open minded and have a better understanding of the world. After having lived there for about six years and becoming a citizen of the country, I learned that my parents were planning another move, this time to the United States. My father explained to me that a church in Texas asked him to serve as a priest there. Texas was filled with new traditions, such as the annual super bowl gatherings and the state fair; These customs helped create a pleasant and comforting American experience. Additionally, I realized the advantage I have to be able to reside in a peaceful country and leave Egypt, a country suffering with many tribulations and filled with instability and
This journey taught me so much that I wouldn’t have ever imagined. I grew from this experience mentally and I saw my parents becoming closer and regaining that bond they held with one another. This event taught me to be more appreciative with all the little things I have and made me realize that life isn’t going to go the way you want it to; you have to fight for the path to lead you in the right direction. I was brought closer to both my parents and my brothers. This event started new beginnings for this family, a new start to get things right because when I found out I would be moving to San Diego, I never would have realized the struggles I went through; especially when I was a silent voice in the decision.
Every time my grandmother and I spoke, she always asked me "Boy wenya gonna come home"? And I tell her "soon come". Trinidadians speak broken English, almost like Jamaicans, but much clearer. Finally the day to leave for Trinidad came on August 1st. I decided to go by myself so I can learn about the country, spending time with old friends and family. It was a personal visit; it had been eighteen years since I returned home. It felt like a reunion with a loved one. I was up for two days counting down the time until my trip. The night before my flight it felt like the night before the first day of high school, I was so anxious for the day to begin. I planned my outfit and was very serious getting about ready for my trip. My dream finally came true because, although I have a lot of relatives in Trinidad, I'm closest to my grandmother and it has been four years since I last saw her. The excitement was rushing through my veins. I was set to go and my eyes were blood shot red from the lack of sleep the past two days. It was time to escape my hectic work-filled days in Spring Valley and enter a new relaxed environment of a tropical paradise for one whole month. I took off at 5:00 pm and took a much needed nap during the five hour flight.
I came with high hopes and aspirations. My hometown is not near Arizona, it is Lake Tahoe, Nevada, so going home for the weekend was simply out of the question. I had a great time for the first month, enjoying freedom. However, I was sitting in my room one night writing a paper with my roommate, and one of my friends from home called me. She said that one of her good friends from high school had just committed suicide earlier that day.
I was able to spend a lot of time with my family, our friends, and play all sorts of games. This experience made me start to like traveling. Every time I would get the chance to travel, I will take that chance. We were able to go to a theme park, eat many delicious foods, and play many video