-“At this elevation, everyone’s friends, bro!” the innkeeper clasped my hand as we struck our 80% off bargain for a night’s sleep atop Mt. Cotopaxi.
-“No, it’s completely safe!” reassured our new friend Omar as he clambered beneath our car and constructed a make-shift car jack out of adobe bricks in the middle of the Peruvian desert. -“Of course you could camp right here... Also, you can come up to my house for the night! I’ll make food!” roared our new amigo, Juan Villalobos, retired Chilean film star, confidant of of the president, and grunt-singer extraordinaire. Most nights -good nights- we make a fire. We toss our daily catches from markets and grocery stores in a pot and pretend its gourmet. The night ends with laughing around the fire with satiated appetites and the feeling of accomplishment for another day and dish we’ve created. We find a spot to bed down, filter water, make coffee, construct a fire, but the beginning piece of the stop comes before the tents: gathering kindling. When a butterfly flapped its wings and Project:GapSemester was a mere twinkle in my eye, I had many ideas for how I could conceptualize it, make it a cohesive whole. “We’re traveling to raise money for…”, “We want to give resources to…”, “Our aim is to heal the relationship between…”, etc. Because the scope of our travel was so broad, I desired to isolate the type of visits we would be experiencing in order to compare them across Geo/Political divides. I still want this. But now, —at an avocado farm outside of Santiago, Chile—in writing, thinking, reflecting upon the trip, the trip’s a jumble of different events in different locations; it’s a daisy-chain. We experienced overwhelming hospitality in Mexico. It was overwhelming to the point that we are abrasive and reactive to those who mention a U.S. Department of State travel warning to this stunningly beautiful country. The people of Mexico loved us like a good family does, personal connections and strangers alike. In Central America, we experienced inside looks into the youth’s experience as we visited schools of various kinds. In Panajachel, Guatemala, we visited the dear Garcia family and their accelerated academic program which they have created to supplement their local school system. Our longest visit was to the Micah Project in Tegucigalpa, where we lived with the students of a boarding school created for boys from the streets of the city. We went to the Aspergren’s, the instigators of foster care in Costa Rica and joined with their friend Ciro for a 21km day as he was walking across Costa Rica to raise funds for their highly effective program. All of these visits were thematically organized, but so much of Central America was not. We learned about native cultures to the Americas, had intense conversations about community, went to a Honduras/USA world cup qualifying match, visited with friends from the states in Panama, got our car stuck for hours in the Nicaraguan jungle, and had spaghetti with an expat from Texas in his surf shop. Daisy-chain. Have some more: Upon arrival in Cartagena, Colombia —our first location in South America—, Krum and I went directly to the coast and I played pickup soccer for hours with local boys. During the night we ambitiously attempted to camp on the beach; we spent the night furiously and hopelessly looking upward into the dark as we perspired and were eaten by the local bugs. The next night, Theo arrived to us supplementing our energy with the best coffee of our lives (San Alberto Cafe) with a feverish Karl. We took him to the hospital and navigated the messy process of insurance, documentation, and payment as he crumbled lower into his waiting room seat. An IV insertion and 3 hrs sucking water at the hospital lowered his fever to 100° F. The next next night we stayed in a hostel as Karl ferociously battled the Panamanian/Colombian shipping process for 20 hours, the trophy being Abuelita—our car. In Colombia, we visited disadvantaged neighborhoods and beautiful clean neighborhoods. We spent the night in parking lots and roadsides across the country. I awoke at a rural gas stations with teenagers giving each other tattoos and truck drivers watching perverse videos with the sound cranked up. I awoke in what looked like a swiss valley, cows grazing with some of the worlds best coffee draped over the green mountains. I awoke next to a police station in Popayan to a feast of our home cooked rice/beans that we shared with the dozens of men and women without homes who were surrounding our car. I awoke to a freshly brewed batch of coffee from a man of small stature framed by a striped poncho atop the volcano, Azufral. In Bogota, I awoke to my college buddy, Jeremy Hunka, loudly snoring at my bedside and a feast of traditional Colombian foods prepared by the fantastic Moreno family. In Ecuador, we visited Quito, the volcano Cotopaxi, Lake Quilotoa, Cuenca, and Cajas National Park. At each location we met fantastic people who welcomed us like family. Our campsites were perhaps our best and our hosts were the most spontaneous (thanks so much, Gary and Mary). In Peru and Northern Chile, we stretched between hosts and camped in the deserts, Machu Picchu, Ayacucho, the pristine coast of Northern Chile, the incomprehensible Cordillera Blanca of the Andes. The night after Machu Picchu, we sent 2 into battle with an illness that causes you to get sick so frequently that you can hardly sit down. Karl and Theo each threw up 15 times. Nothing less than heroes. Now, we’re nearing Santiago and I’m trying to piece it all together. We’ve experienced “poverty” and “wealth”, the poverty of mind easily found within both of these boxes, and an authenticity that can be found independent of physical circumstance or cultural biases. Our internal conversations range from “we should address this to stay friends” to “what should I be doing with my career!” to “can these accusations that we’ve heard against our country be truth”. All 4 of us happen to be Christian believers, which gives us a shared vision of human flourishing and allows our conversations to begin 4 to 5 steps down a train of thought. We’ve a wealth of experiences, making campfires across the entirety of the Americas. These trains of thought are moving at a rapid pace, faster than mine ever have. I feel empowered by our new conversations, experiences, and ideas; I’m enthusiastic to bring my new passions back into my studies. This wealth of experiences is causing change and I will not see the world the same as I did when I return. We're starting a fire. My single frustration remains the same: the lack cohesiveness, the daisy-chain. -My eyes snap open to the sound of Theo’s phone sounding an alarm. I’m looking at what is classified as the best stars in the world at the darkest hour of night. -I sit up at the sound of our water filter dripping glacial water, I’m overlooking the Andean communities thousands of feet below me. -Today, we awoke in the fields of an Avocado farm, surrounded by a valley growing mandarins, olives, lemons, peaches, and perfect avocados. With all of these seemingly random experiences, I feel like I did scampering along the side of the Andes of Northern Peru. I’m frantically looking for the next conversation, experience, or idea scattered around the Americas that burns nice and easy like kindling. It’s not hard, we’re constantly hit with stimuli: fascinating cross-cultural encounters, stunning sights, worthwhile athletic endeavors, things that metaphorically burn very easily. When this daisy-chain-collection-of-experiences starts to feel like a chain-linked fence, I keep reminding myself that every good night of the trip begins with kindling. Just like kindling to a fire, the purpose of this trip is not to be the centerpiece of a life; it’s to get started on a good one. -James For absolutely anyone who wants to pray for us: -safety in our travels as we enter the unplanned -wisdom as we process/package what has happened -an easy method of selling the car near Ushuaia -sanity as we stay present, but anticipate homecoming
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It is not often that I have the opportunity to hike in Peruvian National Parks. Not too many days has my greatest worry been to keep bonfire wood dry or to filter drinking water from a glacial lake. Yet when some of my best buddies and I reached the summit of a mountain during our semester dedicated to exploring, cultural learning, and listening to God’s call in our lives, I was anxious and worried over registering for Spring’s classes. It frustrated me that this small detail that could be dealt with at any point was stealing from my worship of the Lord and my enjoyment of His creation.
What most bothered me about my distracted experience on the mountain wasn’t the fact that I was frustrated, but what exactly was frustrating me. There are so many more important issues that need so much more thought – even that have been exposed to me on the trip thus far. One of my prayer requests for this trip has been to remember and actively apply what I have learned and been convicted of when I get hit with the excitement and monotony of life either here traveling or back at home. In the last two months, we as a group have wrestled with tough thoughts and digested hard truths. We have attempted to grasp extreme poverty as we walk right by it, seen natural disasters devastate communities on the news, and talked to pregnant girls doing drugs on the streets – yet all I could think about on the top of that mountain was registration. I want so badly to be affected by my experiences to the point where I am pushed to uncomfortably ponder and ferociously pray about them. I want what I see and feel to stick with me. I frequently need to remind myself to live a life as the Apostle Paul writes about in Romans 12:15, to “rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Mundane and uninspiring moments like registering for classes are still important. Life is full of them, even on a road trip through the Americas. But during these moments, during the mountaintop moments of life, and everything in between, I want to recall the greater picture: to struggle through the hardships of life with a higher, more eternal perspective…to enjoy Him and to glorify Him forever. Happy Registration, Theodore “Alright, so… You’ve been on the road for almost two months. You’ve slept in a sweaty smelly car, been hosted in a beach house mansion, and eaten like kings between the home-cooked meals and street vendors. But, when it comes down to it, what is it all for? What have you actually been learning?”
The four of us occasionally discuss the main lessons that we’re learning on an individual basis during our endless car rides through the Latin America countryside. Here’s one that I can’t stop thinking about: contentment. Contentment is a funny concept. Is it a measurement of your current state of Zen? Is it a decision to have a good attitude? Is it a warm fuzzy feeling of accomplishment? The past 57 days firehosed me with nearly equal doses of joy, stress, confusion, and peace. Daily, my mind wanders back to the paradox of “livin’ the dream” on the road and yet lacking contentment (whatever that truly means). My friends back home say they’re jealous of our journey, and all I can think is how I am jealous of them experiencing senior year together at Wheaton. I find myself wishing that I could be working on something tangible like starting my career. Ironically, I know that as soon as I am sitting in an office for a full day of work in January, I will desire to be back in these Colombian coffee shops overlooking the lush, fog-covered mountains. In no way have I fully figured out how to get past this issue in my heart and mind. This is not a story of trial and triumph. This is a lesson in my own humanity. I am a selfish, broken man who often sucks at being grateful for the gifts, opportunities, and people that God has placed in my life. Don’t get me wrong, I regret nothing about going on this expedition. I look forward to experiencing the next 2+ months of life in South America. I have simply been reminded of my need to focus daily on the words of 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” That is where I believe true contentment lies. So, no matter where you are today; if your driver-side window stops working so you have to wake up the person in the backseat to pay your tolls, or if you are eating your fourth piece of fresh baked bread with Nutella from the French cafe down the street in Bogota, remember to be thankful for whatever you have and wherever the Lord has placed you. - Krum How appropriate that on day 31, exactly one month in, we had the most absurd day of Project:GoThere yet. It began as possibly the best day of our trip thus far. Waking up to a picture perfect sunrise at our incredible beach campsite in San Juan del Sur set the tone for a great day. The night before, we found an overlander-friendly beach that let us park our car and sleep in an open-air grass-roofed hut.
The day only got better when we drove to Playa del Coco (“playa” means “beach” for all you who speak as little Spanish as I do…). It was by far the most beautiful beach I’ve ever seen. The water was shockingly clear and two majestic cliffs bordered each end of this secluded paradise. The cliff on our right side, formed with warped rock layers on the open face with broccoli-esque trees for hair, was staring out at the eternal expanse that is the Pacific Ocean. The waves that we rode were the most quintessential National Geographic waves that I’ve ever laid eyes on. As the cherry on top, we hit that sweet spot of getting the perfect amount of sun without getting burnt to a crisp. Fast forward two military traffic stops, a million and a half potholes, and a washed out bridge that was being rebuilt. We started down what we thought was the road north to get back to the main highway and then on to border crossing #5 into Costa Rica. I say “thought” because there is no humane way to categorize what we were driving on as a “road”. It was simply a different genre of terrain to get a vehicle from one location to another. Our fearless drivers for the day, James and Karl, coaxed our four-wheeled “stallion” (Copyright: Karl Cassel 2017) to perform feats unfit for any Toyota Sequoia. We’re talking anything from small tree demolition to what seemed like vertical mudslide climbs. A quarter of the way through our jungle escapade, we were coming around a bend nearing the top of a hill. In a fraction of a second, we swerved to avoid a pothole that looked more like the abyss that took Qui-Gon Jinn and Darth Maul (may they rest in peace), and instead drove the entire right side of our car off a foliage-disguised 2-3 foot embankment bringing us to a lurching halt. We completely bottomed out with our axle, spare tire, and a few other generic car parts (none of us really know anything about cars) lodged into the rocky dirt. After several disheartening attempts to free her with a combination of 4-wheels spinning and 3 dudes pushing, we started to realize just how stuck we were. We started digging. We grabbed our little orange garden shovel (aka. the poop shovel) and a few sticks to start chipping away at the unforgiving earth. Crawling on our bellies under the car to dig at a better angle, we gave up all notion of cleanliness. Trying to avoid having to set up camp in the middle of the Nicaraguan jungle, we officially kicked into survival mode and chipped away at the dirt inch by inch like nobody’s business. Three hours later, we had drunk 50% of the emergency water in our rooftop carrier, but we could finally see from one side of the car to the other. We were ready to try it again. One tiny detail I forgot to mention is that our front right tire was less than 4 inches (like actually less than) from falling down a much deeper ravine which would have for sure flipped our car and sent it tumbling down a hill into it’s potential jungle grave. So, needless to say, stakes were high. After laying hands on the car and praying over it, we were ready to give it one last shot. Through a swirl of tires spinning, loose dirt flying, and exhaust smoke pluming in our faces, we rocked it back-and-forth 5 times until it had the boost of energy to bust out of the rut and back onto that forsaken “road”. I was screaming on the final two pushes. When it finally broke loose, I felt like I couldn’t even support myself. I was so physically and emotionally exhausted that I started hyperventilating for the first time in my life and broke into tears. Truly a miracle that we got out of there. Twenty kilometers, a river crossing, and a few more terrifying rut-infested mountain climbs later we emerged out of that jungle in our bruised but unbroken Toyota and spirits. We still had to play another game of bureaucratic pinball for two hours at the border crossing (at night now) and drive 5 hours to our hosts in San Jose, Costa Rica. We were supposed to arrive for a nice game of ultimate frisbee at 8pm as a great way to get some energy out and stretch our legs. Instead, we rolled in at 2am caked in dirt and smelling like stale sweat. Great times had by all. Thanks be to God for keeping us safe, keeping our car from any significant harm, and even keeping us on schedule to arrive in Costa Rica. Those are the types of days that you can’t plan for, but you have to expect. Moral of the story: Google Maps can’t always be trusted. - Krum It has truly been a wild/amazing experience living on the road for the past handful of weeks, with more things learned than we can count. A few that come to mind… 1. Duct tape & peanut butter might be the greatest road trip companions ever invented. 2. The number of seats in a car is not always the maximum number of people it can carry. 3. God is using people in just about every capacity to impact others and further His Kingdom. Hospitality. This concept has been foundational in our experiences thus far as each of our hosts have gifted us with their own unique version. It has taken on all different forms as our generous hosts have let us into their worlds, showing us various sides to living out the Gospel. The idea of ‘home’ is pretty foreign to four Midwestern guys driving through Central America. However, those that have opened their homes to us have reinvented what that idea looks like for the next handful of months. Whether it is planting churches in Monterrey, Mexico; reaching kids on the streets in Tegucigalpa, Honduras; or discussing matters of faith within their coffee shop in Panajachel, Guatemala; our hosts have taught us valuable lessons that have impacted our ways of thinking while on the road. Most of these lessons are ones we have not learned in the last 16-ish years we’ve spent in school. As the four of us look to our own futures, hospitality is pretty foundational and is something we would hope to adopt in our own ways. MANY thanks to those who have given us a brief home away from home these past weeks, we are grateful for the countless stories, meals, and restful hours slept in beds/couches (instead of the trunk of our car). Finally, to provide a bit of recap, here are most of Project:GoThere’s stops in the first 27 days! San Francisco, CA —> Santa Cruz, CA —> Los Angeles, CA —> The Grand Canyon, AZ —> Los Alamos, NM —> San Marcos, TX —> Monterrey, Mexico —> San Luis Potosi, Mexico —> Puebla, Mexico —> San Cristobal De Las Casas, Mexico —> Xela, Guatemala —> Panajachel, Guatemala —> Antigua, Guatemala —> Guatemala City, Guatemala —> Copan, Honduras —> Tegucigalpa, Honduras. Head over to https://projectgothere.travelmap.net and check out each of our stops in a bit more detail with photos too! Take care, Karl Today we awoke in San Marcos, Texas, for the first border crossing. First international stop: Monterrey, Mexico. Our pilgrimage began days ago, on August 7th but only now at the first border crossing does it feel real. This last week has been crazy; we couldn’t be more enthusiastic for it to continue as we transition into new cultures and surroundings. 3 of the fellas, Karl Cassel, James Guebert (myself), and Caleb Krumsieg, spent the our July working at WAnet’s Summer English Institute (SEI), teaching international students English and American Culture as many of them began their transition to American High-Schools. To risk being cliché, we found the students to be far more educational to us than we were to them. This high-intensity summer job included acting as both teaching assistants and resident assistants for nearly 200 students from Cambodia, China, Korea, South Africa, and Tanzania. We got a surprise head-start on Project:GoThere’s mission of cross-cultural dialogue! SEI ended in San Fransisco, from whence we swooped our fearless conversationally-fluent-Spanish-speaking friend, Theo, thereby marking the San Fransisco airport as the official commencement of PGT. Our next stops were San Louis Obispo, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, the Grand Canyon, then our current location of Los Alamos, New Mexico. Outside of these fantastic visits with superb hosts, the trip has consisted of family time with our car, “Abuela”. Abuela—fondly called “Abuelita”— has the quantity of character, the homey presence, the unconditional affection, and well-wornness of a grandmother —hence her being christened the Spanish term for grandma. Structurally, the car has been deemed ship-shape and OKed for Pan-American travel by mechanics nation-wide. In terms of it’s aesthetics and cosmetics, we made some concessions allowing for a bargain and a low profile as we travel. We have removed the back seat-bench and substituted it with a shelving system that doubles as a bed in a pinch. Additionally, we have developed hanging systems from the ceiling for our camera, banjolele, and any other quick access necessities. This large quantity of time spent in the car have been a blunt wake-up that a large quantity of our next 5 months is going to be time spent sitting in a car. We need ways to fill our time to keep our minds employed. We need times to get out and move our bodies. We need small amounts of privacy during these long hours. The nature of a Pan-American road trip is that we are both tied to and limited by our car. Already the mental, physical, and relational implications of this are clearly going to be some of our greatest challenges we face as they build over time. Our hosts have been fantastic. We have visited Hudson Thomas, The Redin family, Lauren Wolf, The Gruendyke family, Annie Little, The Dix family, and Hazel and Adam Golder. Especially visiting for extensive amounts of time with the Gruendykes and the Golders has been beneficial to the trip. All hosts have been beneficial in revising our perspective as we seek to be listeners and not teachers. The Gruendykes showed us what it means to be hospitable and to create a space for conversation. The Golders showed us what it means to be self-sacrificial and generous. All of our hosts have been humbling with the prospect of being guests for the rest of the semester in Latin America. Visiting each of these locations was life-giving, helping us think, and propelling us farther/faster. Even within The States, we have been able to witness culture in action and entertain thoughts about what it means to be a global citizen. Practically, this means listening and learning as a guest in another culture. In many ways we’ve been able to do this already, and have certainly been able to set the framework for its continuation. Prayer Requests: -that we can remain worry free in regards to our general safety -that we each have relational wisdom with each other in stressful situations -that we maintain a love of life and a strong ability to give of ourselves -that we can make the most of this journey -that we can be gracious guests throughout Central America Try to keep up as we will be posting much more frequently!! James Let’s go back a couple years. Picture a couple freshmen sitting in a college dorm room. Amidst piles of dirty laundry, a ripped-up $5 floral couch from Goodwill, and a few Disney princess posters, an idea was born late one evening. “Dude, we should get some guys to drive the PanAmerican Highway down to Patagonia when we graduate…” The rest is history. As we are less than a month away from our departure date, we could not be more excited about actually hitting the road. The vision casting, international networking, and local mentoring that have brought us to this point have reminded us over and over of the importance of building relationships. We have already had the pleasure of seeing Project:GoThere have a tangible impact on others. Take this story for example: The four of us have been grinding this summer to make enough money for Project:GoThere. Each of us are working multiple jobs including caddying at America’s oldest 18-hole golf course, drawing architectural blueprints around the midwest, painting houses, landscaping businesses, and bussing tables. I, (Caleb Krumsieg, who will primarily be referred to as “Krum”) spent several weeks working at a warehouse in the Chicagoland area as one of my jobs. One Friday, I was talking with a co-worker named Manny. Manny is roughly in his late-20s or early-30s and has one of the most inviting personalities of anyone I’ve ever known. He asked me why I was working in the warehouse and how I liked the job thus far. I explained that I was just working for the summer to earn enough money for Project:GoThere. That sparked a conversation about the importance of travel and broadening your view of the world to learn from other cultures. He told me that someday he longs to take his family on a trip to Mexico to meet his extended family that still live there. The following Monday, I arrived at work ready for another day of picking industrial kitchen parts and processing them for shipping. An excited Manny came up to me, gave me his daily signature fist-bump and said, “Waddup Caleb? So, I was thinking over the weekend more about our travel conversation that we had on Friday and just said ‘f*** it!’ and bought plane tickets to take my whole family on a fishing trip to Miami in November!” Obviously, this wasn’t a massive life-altering moment in Manny’s life. However, it’s an incredible encouragement to see other people get excited by the same love of communal travel that is one of the main focuses of Project:GoThere. We hope, trust, and pray that this is only one of countless similar conversations with people from the United States to Argentina that begin to scratch the surface of the things that truly matter in life. Please, join us in praying that God will continue to use the four of us as vessels to point others toward the beauty of this world that He created for us to explore. Ongoing PGT prayer requests:
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PGT ThoughtsStories of experiences we have along the way. Archives
November 2017
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