Joy in the Journey
I fell into bed the other night, exhausted and perhaps half delirious from fever or an oncoming flu. Unlike most nights where it takes me many hours to fall into a deep enough sleep to dream, I immediately felt transported to another world, a dream so real I woke up a short while later and asked my husband, who was still reading beside me, if he knew where I just had been. Amazingly within a few guesses, he figured it out!
I fell back to sleep and retraced my steps in the dream. I was dressed to attend a wedding reception for a colleague of mine at the university where I used to teach English. I remember I finished up my afternoon class around 5 pm, packed up my bag and headed down the six flights of stairs to the English office where the other teachers, including my husband, were regrouping to check their mailboxes and drop off equipment. Most were heading off to the same reception. The air was hot and sticky and dark clouds hung in the distant East. Everyone hurriedly closed up the office and ran down the last flight of stairs to the parking area where we mounted our motorbikes and took off into the crazy traffic of Phnom Penh, heading East toward the city's center.
As we zipped in and around the veering cars and motorbikes, we realized that the dark clouds were speeding just as quickly toward us. We only got about halfway down the stretch of the Russian Boulevard before we hit the storm head on. Since the monsoon season had not yet beset us full force, my husband and I were not prepared with our rain parkas. Furthermore, unlike most other streets in the city, this boulevard was wide with no place to pull off and take refuge from the deluge. We had no alternative but to continue with the flow of traffic which had slowed to a crawl. Our 15 min. jaunt became a 45 min. trek and by the time we arrived, the
rains had stopped. We were soaked to the bone and had lost track of the rest of the teachers who had been traveling near us.
And this was the point where I first began my dream. I stood across from the Mekong restaurant where there was a roped-off lot for our motorbikes. I was standing in water up above my knees clad in my traditional Khmer clothes, specially hand-made for attending weddings. I could not tell if I was standing in the street or on the side and I was deathly afraid of stepping out and inadvertently falling into any one of the open sewage holes along the street. After parking the motorbike, my husband joined me, our enthusiasm for joining the wedding having pretty much washed away. The water churned from the traffic still trying to pass by as trash and raw sewage floated around us. I really needed reassurance at that point. All I wanted was to see the familiar face of one of my friends.
And then we did. One of the other foreigners arrived with one of our Cambodian teacher-friends. It was like the horror of the most surreal moment melted into the best comedy of the week. We took one look at each other and couldn't stop laughing. What a great time we had wading across the street and exchanging stories of what had happened during the last hour. We entered the reception hall and sat at a table where the rest of our staff were seated. We all nearly froze as reception halls are known for being overly-air-conditioned, but the spirit of friendship and the camaraderie of survival made the evening one to remember.
Why, in my exhaustion, did my mind jump to that episode, one of many like it which we had experienced in Cambodia? I have no idea, but interestingly enough, my husband and I both closed the recollection with, "I miss Cambodia!"
How funny it is that we humans can look back on our experiences and smile at the good despite the bad. Being able to separate ourselves from our circumstances and see the grace of God which has been consistent in our lives even when everything around us is churning is truly a gift the Lord offers us. It's not only a gift which helps us survive, but I also think it's what adds richness to the stories of our lives which we pass along. What a joy to know we can rest in God's grace through every circumstance!
I fell back to sleep and retraced my steps in the dream. I was dressed to attend a wedding reception for a colleague of mine at the university where I used to teach English. I remember I finished up my afternoon class around 5 pm, packed up my bag and headed down the six flights of stairs to the English office where the other teachers, including my husband, were regrouping to check their mailboxes and drop off equipment. Most were heading off to the same reception. The air was hot and sticky and dark clouds hung in the distant East. Everyone hurriedly closed up the office and ran down the last flight of stairs to the parking area where we mounted our motorbikes and took off into the crazy traffic of Phnom Penh, heading East toward the city's center.
As we zipped in and around the veering cars and motorbikes, we realized that the dark clouds were speeding just as quickly toward us. We only got about halfway down the stretch of the Russian Boulevard before we hit the storm head on. Since the monsoon season had not yet beset us full force, my husband and I were not prepared with our rain parkas. Furthermore, unlike most other streets in the city, this boulevard was wide with no place to pull off and take refuge from the deluge. We had no alternative but to continue with the flow of traffic which had slowed to a crawl. Our 15 min. jaunt became a 45 min. trek and by the time we arrived, the
rains had stopped. We were soaked to the bone and had lost track of the rest of the teachers who had been traveling near us.And this was the point where I first began my dream. I stood across from the Mekong restaurant where there was a roped-off lot for our motorbikes. I was standing in water up above my knees clad in my traditional Khmer clothes, specially hand-made for attending weddings. I could not tell if I was standing in the street or on the side and I was deathly afraid of stepping out and inadvertently falling into any one of the open sewage holes along the street. After parking the motorbike, my husband joined me, our enthusiasm for joining the wedding having pretty much washed away. The water churned from the traffic still trying to pass by as trash and raw sewage floated around us. I really needed reassurance at that point. All I wanted was to see the familiar face of one of my friends.
And then we did. One of the other foreigners arrived with one of our Cambodian teacher-friends. It was like the horror of the most surreal moment melted into the best comedy of the week. We took one look at each other and couldn't stop laughing. What a great time we had wading across the street and exchanging stories of what had happened during the last hour. We entered the reception hall and sat at a table where the rest of our staff were seated. We all nearly froze as reception halls are known for being overly-air-conditioned, but the spirit of friendship and the camaraderie of survival made the evening one to remember.
Why, in my exhaustion, did my mind jump to that episode, one of many like it which we had experienced in Cambodia? I have no idea, but interestingly enough, my husband and I both closed the recollection with, "I miss Cambodia!"
How funny it is that we humans can look back on our experiences and smile at the good despite the bad. Being able to separate ourselves from our circumstances and see the grace of God which has been consistent in our lives even when everything around us is churning is truly a gift the Lord offers us. It's not only a gift which helps us survive, but I also think it's what adds richness to the stories of our lives which we pass along. What a joy to know we can rest in God's grace through every circumstance!
posted by Gecko Girl at
9:14 PM
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