Up a Mountain, Without a Bus

Do I have “Thrill Issues”?

"Thrill of the Hunt" by Julieen Gelmann

Yesterday’s post on confirmation got me thinking about all the wonderful things that have happened to me in my life right moments after bad things have happened. One of the words that has been used to describe me is “accident prone” or “girl with thrill issues” both of these implying that I have a tendency to get myself into some very awkward situations. It was during my time in these situations that I learned to laugh at the drama as it unfolds. When I was scared or in a very bad place I would distract myself by thinking about how I could retell the story to make others laugh. In the process of trying to find something humorous about the situation my fear was minimized.

Freezing with Fear

When I first started playing with the men’s team at the United States International University in Kenya I was very scared and nervous. Every time some brave man would pass me the ball I would freeze with fear of making a mistake, my leg would become as stiff as a carrot causing the ball to bounce off my foot often in the directon of the opposing team. It was horrible feeling paralyzed in the midst of doing something that I love so much. It got so bad that for a few weeks I would run away from the ball just so that I wouldn’t have to face the fear of looking like a dear in the middle of the road with the bright lights of the ball flying at me. It was when the men showered love and acceptance on me (regardless of my whacked out game skills) that I was able to truly become part of the team and put my skills into action.

Stuck in a bad situation!

When I lived in Tanzania I had to take two buses from the Baha’i secondary school to Tumaini University up the mountain. The journey took me about an hour most days. One day in my dash out the door I forgot my wallet and money. I had enough change in my pocket to pay for one bus but then I was stranded half way in between, in the town. I didn’t know anyone in the town that I could go and ask money for.

I was contemplating my options walking down to he school or up to the university when terror overcame me, I remembered that there was a group of 3 men with a car that were ‘escorting’ (stalking) me around town. They were a group of men that were probably harmless but they were putting unpleasant pressure on me and I didn’t feel safe. I did not know what to do… it was a lot of money to ask to borrow from someone I don’t know. I stood at the bus station and started to get angry at myself, “Clare, what do you think you are doing here in Africa??? You are so young and this is way too much for you to deal with! You can’t have faith in people to help you out when you live in another culture. Why would anyone give you money anyway? You are white and most people here believe that white people have a lot of money! Argh!!”. As my anger slowed my tears weld up in my eyes and I accepted that way out of my depth and this mistake could be very costly.

Old Grandfather

I looked around at my physical reality questioning once again why I had put myself in this position. As I took in the surroundings of the market with numerous stalls each piled high with pyrimands of colourful fruits and vegetables, a elderly man caught me eye. He was waving me over to his stall. I glanced around looking for the person he was waving to, but all I saw was myself. I was sure I had never seen this old grandfather before. I walked over to him and he greeted me warmly. He asked how I was and reached out his hand to shake mine. As our hands met I felt the crinkle of paper under my palm. I looked into his liquid brown eyes and found him smiling, “Something tells me that you need this more than I do. Here, take this as a gift, if ever you are able to pay me back then do so, but if not I know that I am meant to give this to you

today.” I looked down into my hand and found some bills. Enough to get up to University, back home and eat lunch. This was probably more money then the man would make the entire day.

This was profound to me, that this old grandfather could look at me and see past my colour and see my need. What I learned was to have faith in people to arise and asist one another. More importantly I learned that I too could act upon impulse to help other people even if seemed crazy.

As one of the Writings from the Baha’i Faith says, “Let your heart burn with loving kindness for all who may cross your path”.