HAPPY ANNIVERSARY W SQUAD! May 21, one year ago, the World Race W squad was meeting for the first time at Training Camp in Tennessee. We were complete strangers coming together to serve God and embark upon a new chapter of life together.
As I was reflecting on this past year, I cracked open my journal to May 21, 2011. Here’s what I wrote:
Well, the world is supposed to end today…some say. 6pm I think. So, maybe I’ll be seeing You face to face real soon. I’m currently at O’Hare waiting for my plane to board. I keep wondering who else is “filling the seats” on the rollercoaster. My first guess was wrong… Its really interesting watching people….
One year ago, I met my squadmates for the first time but I also said goodbye to the friends and family that I love. I wrote a blog entitled “Going Back Up.” I used the analogy of a rollercoaster to describe how I was feeling in that moment- I had just finished interning with Campus Crusade for Christ and had barely caught my breath before jumping on the World Race rollercoaster and started click-click-clicking back up to the top. At that time, I didn’t know anyone else on the ride, nor did I know what to expect. Here’s an excerpt from that blog:
The picture I drew in my journal.
I just finished the ride with Crusade. I’m in the “That was awesome/my stomachs a little queasy/let’s do it again!” phase that happens when the rollercoaster safely locks itself back on the platform. Most people get off, take a moment to savor the ride, then go again or try a new ride.
But I’m going back up. On a new coaster, never been ridden before. By myself. I’m tick-tick-ticking to the top and I don’t know what’s coming after the drop.As I look back at the platform, my friends and family are standing there waving goodbye to me.They’ll be at the platform when I get back but they won’t experience all the loops and turns they next year has for me. This makes me sad.
I’m guessing since you’re reading this that you’re probably one of those people on the platform. Thank you.Thanks for sharing in this new journey, this new ride.Believe me, a large part of me wants to get off the ride and return to the comfort and safety of the life I know.
But the other part of me can’t wait to see what’s at the top and who will join me on the journey. As I look back at the other cars on the coaster, I only know one other gal that will be joining me for the ride. But tomorrow, I get to meet the rest of my family for the year. Training Camp is first on the agenda as the World Race rollercoaster gets ready for an unforgettable ride.
So, as I go back up to the top, I’m sad to say goodbye to those of you who are waving on the platform but am excited to meet the people sitting in the seats next to me. I’m grieving the transition but ready for the next ride.
Whether you’re standing on the platform or sitting next to me, thanks for joining me in the journey! Now, on to Training Camp…
One year later, I’m preparing to return to the platform. I’m eagerly awaiting the reunions with those of you who have followed this journey and want to share all that I’ve learned on those loops and turns. But (there’s always a but), I have to say goodbye to those strangers who have become my family…and my family has grown immensely this year!
Family Force 6 on top of Table Mountain in Cape Town, South Africa.
Lauren Erb and Amanda Howard?
I knew we'd be friends since Training Camp!
Nicole Ransom and I have been partners in crime since they put us on the same team.
(Muah ha ha!)
Workout buddy, street food buddy, process buddy-she's been a great friend to me!
Melissa Lowell first captivated me with her story telling abilites during "porch time" at Training Camp. Throughout the Race, we've continued to get to know each other through our stories and taught together during our month in Swaziland.
Jamie (Himes) Ham and Ashley Caple have been stuck with me the entire Race. It's been a priviledge to see them grow in their faith throughout the year. They are not the same people I met at Training Camp!
And those are just a few of my new family members...
On our off day last week, I went on a real rollercoaster ride here in Kuala Lumpur. My teammate Ashley is probably the best person to ride a coaster with because she gets so excited. Nicole was our wonderful videographer… Enjoy!
I’m pleased to report our travel from Cambodia to Malaysia was painless and probably the easiest travel day on the Race thus far. One quick flight from Phnom Pehn to Kuala Lumpur and we were in our final country of this epic journey.
This month we will be working with 3 churches in the greater Kuala Lumpur area, each associated with the Assemblies of God. That means we’ll be putting our packing skills to the test as we move to a new church each week- but let’s be real, after 10 months of living out of a bag and packing every few weeks, this is nothing!
A bit about Malaysia- it is considered the “Rainbow Country of Asia” meaning it is home to many people groups. Along with the indigenous Malays, the most common are the Indian and Chinese. This means there are many languages, cultures and religions all mixed into one country. It is common to be walking on the street and pass a Muslim woman with a headscarf as well as a Hindu woman wearing a sari. This cultural mixture also means we can have incredible Indian curry for dinner one night and delicious Chinese fried rice the next!
Our first week, we were working with Pastor James Miller at Bethsaida Assembly of God in Kuala Lumpur. Pastor James is of Indian descent, as is his congregation. This means the service and songs are all in Tamil, the native Indian language. We stayed at the church and spent the mornings and afternoons meeting members of the community and inviting them to the church. In the evenings we would pay a visit to a church member’s home for fellowship and prayer, as well as a traditional meal. In one week’s time, we met some incredible people!
Oscar was a kid I met the first day we went out in the community. His dad owns and operates a money changing business near the church. We shared a love for badminton and were able to play a fun game at the local park.
Kumas is a refugee from Sri Lanka and a member of the church. We visited his home on our final evening and he was ecstatic to host us. We asked him to share his story with us and he wept in front of us as he remembered the civil war that tore Sri Lanka apart in 1992. He and two friends survived a bomb that blew up near his home but the 30 other people near him did not have the same story. He sobbed as he remembered the bodies of his friends torn to pieces right in front of him. After this defining moment in his life, he turned to God and has been walking with Him since.
James’ wife Joyce is an incredible cook and hostess. Each afternoon we would eat a home cooked lunch and enjoy time with their family. Definitely a highlight of the week!
James and Joyce have 3 sons that were a bit shy to warm up but we became good friends by the end of the week!
Since we’re working with 3 different churches, each week we will stay in the church where we’re serving. That means I’m getting good use of my trusty bedroll before I head home. This week, each of us set up our little fortresses and used chairs to separate our “rooms.”
A highlight for me this week was during one of our mornings in the community. Jamie and I had visited a few people that we wanted to connect with and were left with out any direction and a lot of time before we were to meet up with the rest of the team.
Since our arrival in Malaysia, I wanted to visit a mosque and pray for the people that attend and pray there. Lucky for me, there was a mosque about a mile from the church we were staying at.
Jame, want to go to the mosque?
Sure.
So we went. As the hot sun beat down on us, the mosque seemed to get further and further away but we continued walking. We approached the gate with a bit of reluctance, neither of us having much experience with Muslims or mosques.
Well, my knees and shoulders are covered. Will I offend them that my head isn’t covered?
I looked around the parking lot and saw matching bows on most of the cars. As we approached the building, our suspicions were confirmed- there was a wedding happening and they were right in the middle of the ceremony.
A security guard approached us.
Oh gosh, we’re in trouble. We’ve been “culturally insensitive.”
Complete opposite. He encouraged us to go in. He even said we could take pictures. When in Rome…
So we entered the mosque and sat on the floor in the back. We watched as the bride’s family “gave her away” and she became part of her husband’s family. We watched and attempted to avoid any attention that two sweaty American girls can bring at a Muslim wedding. As the ceremony came to an end, we tried to slip out unnoticed- to no avail.
A man approached us and told us we could take pictures of the wedding party. He insisted actually.
Well, all right.
So I got right up there with the photographer and took pictures of the wedding party. Of the bride and groom. Of the cute kids attending the wedding.
Bride and Groom.
The whole family.
One of the girls attending the wedding.
The same man insisted that we try some of the food provided at the reception.
Please, come. Try some authentic dishes….it’s free. It’s free.
I wasn’t worried about paying; I just didn’t want to take away from the couple’s big day. The man ushered us over to the pavilion housing the food. Jamie and I sat at an unoccupied table and hesitantly took some food. The man (a friend of the bride’s family) sat with us and brought over other family members. We ate in silence until curiosity got the best of us.
They asked the typical questions- where are you from? Do you like Malaysia? When will you return to the States?
I asked some questions about traditional Muslim weddings and explained a bit about typical American weddings. The two women sitting at our table looked incredible hot and uncomfortable as they ate their food. Finally, I just blurted out,
Aren’t you hot? You’ve got to be hot, I mean, I’m sweating and I’m just in a tshirt and capris!
My outburst made them laugh. They were covered head to toe and they were sweating. They replied with a resounding, “YES!”
The man then asked if we wanted a picture with the bride and groom.
No, no. We should be going. We don’t want to trouble you any more. Thank you so much for your hospitality.
Didn’t work. He called the bride and groom over. We took pictures and even though we said thank you multiple times, they thought they were the lucky ones that we were at their wedding.
As we made our way back to the church, we prayed for the couple and their new marriage. We prayed for the people we met. We high-fived that we had just crashed a Muslim wedding.
It was a unique experience but through it all I continued to think, They’re just people, like you and me. We tend to be fearful of the unknown. I know a few things about Muslim people but I can add “incredibly kind and hospitable” to the list.
So, there you have it, a few highlights from our first week in Malaysia!
Mom and me at American Players Theatre in Spring Green, WI.
They say as we get older, we turn into our parents. It’s true. Though I won’t be with my mom on Mother’s Day, I thought I’d share a few ways I’m like my mom. Enjoy!
*We look alike. As I’ve traveled the world and showed many people the same pictures of my parents, most respond something to the effect of “Oh, you look like mom. Very pretty.” I agree. My mom is beautiful.
*We both have a “garage sale detector” in our car. Yep, we can spot a sign from a good distance away and will brake abruptly. My love for a good deal and frugalness comes from my mom!
*We both tend to collect free sugar and sauce packets. Extra napkins and plastic ware? Heck yes! You never know when you’re going to need them… even on the Race I have my Ziploc baggie of ketchup, sugar, seasonings and plastic spoons. I had been collecting them since South Africa and recently had to part with them in order to make the weight limit on the flight to Malaysia. It was a sad day (though Malaysian food does not need any more kick to it!)
*My slightly hick-ish side and love for the country? Yeah, I get that from my mom. My brother and I were raised in the country but I loved visiting Grandma and Grandpa Mueller at the Farm; 80 acres to explore and drown out the noise of the world. Not many people have a century farm in their family but I’m proud to say that I’m one of the few!
What to do when you're at the Farm and have nothing to wear to go 4-wheeling?
Just throw on the extra pair of overalls hanging in the closet!
*My desire to be a teacher…pretty sure that was cultivated from a young age when Mom would be bring me to “Take Your Daughter To Work Day.” I remember sitting in her office of Room 19 at River Valley High School, terrified of the giant high school kids. My mom has taught for over 30 years and as I got older I realized how many lives she has impacted through her career. The best part, even after “retiring” she’s still teaching!
*Tenacity/get-er done/stick-to-itivness- from my mom. One example: Mom was updating the Farm after Grandma and Grandpa had passed. This meant pulling up some ugly green carpet from the 70’s in the dining room. It had been around awhile and didn’t want to leave. Together we pulled it up, rolled it up, flipped it end over end, put it on the trailer and disposed of it. That sucker was heavy but we did it together! Girl power!
March 2011.
These are just a few ways I'm like my mom and I’m sure I’ll continue to discover more as the days pass. Mom, sorry I’m not home for Mother’s Day but I made a special video just for you! (Don’t worry, you can still watch it if you’re not my mom…) Mother's Day in Malaysia has already come and gone but we had the opportunity to pray for the mothers in the church we are working with! The woman on the right has 10 kids!
What type of cell phone will you get when you’re home?
Umm, I don’t know… maybe a SMART phone? An iPhone? A dumb phone?
Then we started talking about cars. My 96 Ford Contour has been slowly deteriorating since I left in July but I haven’t driven anything in 11 months. The thought of having my own transportation to go where I want, when I want is an exhilarating thought. I’m not concerned with what it looks like, I’m now aware of how blessed I am to have a car of my own.
For nearly a year I have had no Earthly possessions to identify me. No car, no cell phone, no cute outfits- unless, of course, you’re comparing tents or travel pillows. Come to think of it, my experience these last few months has been quite the opposite from the world’s perspective. As a Racer, you pride yourself on how little stuff you can live off of. Checking your bag at the airport becomes somewhat of a game- who has the lightest pack?
As we enter the homestretch of the Race, it hit me hard that I would be on American soil in 30 short days. No more ministry briefings, packing and unpacking, sampling strange street food, living out of a bag, wearing the same 5 t-shirts in a rotation… The list could go on.
It hit me that soon I would enter month 12: America. I would have to relearn American culture, both good and bad.
We ended our time in Cambodia with a trip to the beach- just Family Force 6. We stayed in a lovely bungalow right on the beach and enjoyed the benefits of not living in the rice paddies- AC and WIFI!
Family Force 6 chillin' on the beaches of Cambodia.
A strange thing happens to a Racer when he or she gets unlimited WIFI (especially after little to no internet). Each Racer enters a different world, one of emails and Facebook notifications, blog entries and Skype.
I’ve concluded it’s not a good thing. You get caught. I found myself aimlessly clicking on friend’s photos via Facebook and “catching up” with what was going on in their lives. You know how it goes, one friend is connected to another and you want to see what they’re up to…then an hour goes by… then you realize how quickly life changes.
He got married? They had a baby? Engaged? I didn’t even know she was dating anybody!
That’s just a glimpse of what my brain is thinking during my Facebook stalking. Here’s the other half:
Oh gosh. I’m behind. I’m behind in life. I need to start dating someone, get married and start popping out babies to ‘keep up.’ What have I been doing with my life?
Did you laugh a little? Good. Cuz those thoughts were clearly not from God. Boo Satan. Boo.
It wasn’t until I talked to a friend back home that I got out of my little funk. She spoke some simple truth- “Emily, you’re right where you’re suppose to be. You’re right where God wants you.”
Whew. Thanks. I needed that.
As I continue to process reentering the world I grew up in, it’s a bit daunting. I’m different. You’re different. There’s things I’m excited to incorporate back in my life and things I’ve learned I can live with out.
As I enter my last month on the World Race, I’m ready for one more month of ministry. I’m also getting really excited to be home. As these two realities play themselves out, I’m confident I’m right where I’m suppose to be.
We asked our driver to cut the engine in the middle of the ocean just so we could dive off the boat.
It was awesome!
**For your viewing pleasure, here’s a small glimpse of a random day on the Race. Keep in mind we live on about $3 a day for food, so we appreciate free stuff…even if it’s left on a table by a complete stranger…
Our month in Cambodia has sadly come to an end. Here are some of my favorites from this month:
Touring Angkor Wat and the entire ancient city in Siem Riep.
The tuk tuk rides-
they were a bit bumpy at first but I learned to love them and the people we would meet as we bounced along!
The food was incredilbe! Everyday, our contact Sam-Ole would have a feast cooked up for us-
breakfast, lunch and dinner!
The youth from the church were great! They would help out with children's ministries in the villages and attend English class. A favorite memory with some of the girls was a sporatic moto ride to buy mangoes from a neighbor lady. I didn't have any shoes on when they told me to hop on- we fit 3 Cambodian teenagers and me on 1 moto!
I enjoyed teaching English classes at both centers. The students were eager to learn and excited to have American teachers for a few weeks. Through the classes, students have an opportunity to hear about the Gospel. Most students don't have an understanding of Christianity or ever been told about Jesus.
We've had the opportunity to meet many believers in the villages. Pou (or Uncle) opens his home each week to host Kids Club and is persecuted by his neighbors for his faith. An interesting fact about Pou- he was a Khmer Rouge soldier during Pol Pot's reign; his life has been transformed. Here he is pictured with his granddaughter.
I have been blessed immensely by the adult Bible studies, whether in the village or at the center. A humbling moment was when one women responded to the question, "What are you thankful for?" with this list: my family, a bike to ride, my new home (which is a small wooden hut on stilts), and rain for her rice crop. I was honored to be with my sister in the floral print as she prayed to receive Christ after attending Bible study for a few months. An awesome way to end my time in Takeo!
KIDS! I got plenty of kid time this month! On the left, I'm reading We're Going on a Bear Hunt to a preschool class. The kids on the right attend a weekly Sunday school at a village church.
Most of my pics are of kids this month- wonder why?
Hannah.
She goes in the category of "Can I put her in my bag and take her home?"
We were bffs...I didn't have any influence on her at all...
Hannah is adopted by our contacts Seth and Sam-Ole. Her birth parents tried to sell her for $300 USD to no avail. She has been raised by Seth and Sam-Ole since infancy and exudes energy at 4 years of age.
Isn't she beautiful? She was a hard one to say goodbye to...
Pictures are good but videos are better. Enjoy my ministry update video from our time in Takeo, Cambodia:
In an effort to keep a balance of serious and funny blogs, I’ve decided to write about an everyday issue here in Cambodia. Let’s see if you can guess it…
1 word.
1 syllable.
5 letters.
It plagues the Americans way more than the Cambodians.
It needs to be replenished.
Did you guess it?
That’s right, S-W-E-A-T!
SWEAT. It’s an everyday issue here in Cambodia. Awhile back, I wrote a blog about being “Dressed to Sweat” when I went to an African church service. Remember?
Well, I dress to sweat everyday in Cambodia. The average temperature in April is 95 F with 60% humidity. Yikes! I was laughing to myself about how I classify my clothes- keep in mind I only have 5 t-shirts and 3 pairs of shorts. There is the “clean” pile, the “wear-one-more-time” pile, and the dirty pile. Here is how I determine where clothes go:
“Clean” clothes have just been hand washed and dried on the line. They don’t smell bad but they don’t smell like flowers either. Once a week, my clean pile is complete.
“Wear-one-more-time” clothes have typically been worn for a half-day or a full day. They have been sweat in a little bit but have not been drenched in sweat and therefore can be worn one more time.
Dirty clothes are disgusting. They have been completely drenched in sweat and have turned a different color. They have to be hung to dry from all the sweat before they can be put in the dirty pile. Occasionally, I have to pull a shirt out of the dirty pile and Febreeze it before wearing it again (it’s as gross as it sounds, but I’m just going to sweat in it more…why dirty another shirt?). My workout clothes are always in this pile and have a perma-stench.
Notice the sweat creeping in from the arm pits, about to meet the sweat from my chest...
We sweat so much that we have named the different types of sweat- we thought really hard about these names…
Swace: Sweaty face
Swip: Sweaty lip
Swin: Sweaty chin
Swit: Sweaty pit
Swack: Sweaty back
There’s two more but I think you get the pattern, so I don’t need to explain Swoob or Swass.
It's hard to capture a good Swip, but know there was a lot of Swip and Swace going on in this photo.
No caption needed.
The only reprieve from the heat is if it rains or from my daily bucket shower. I choose to “shower” at the end of the day so I can go to bed as clean as possible. Yesterday was a big day- I washed my hair and shaved my legs. I pretty much felt like a new woman…
It’s hot in Cambodia. I sweat a lot. Actually I sweat all day. But it’s worth it. I’ll continue to sweat so Cambodians have a chance to hear the Good News. They're worth it.
Warning: This is a tough blog to write and read. Just giving you a heads up before you continue.
Since entering Cambodia, I’ve been learning a lot about their history and culture. You can’t escape it, really. The recent genocide has left a lasting impact on these people. Every day, I interact with people who have lived through the hell of the Khmer Rouge and continue to press on.
The Khmer Rouge was led by a man named Pol Pot and came to power in 1975. During this time, the United States was fighting alongside the southern Vietnamese to end communism in the north (Viet Cong). The Viet Cong crossed the Cambodian border in attempts to attack their enemies in the south. The US began bombing Viet Cong forces in Cambodia, often killing civilian farmers.
When the Khmer Rouge came to power, they flourished from the lies they told the Cambodian people. On April 17, 1975, they were able to evacuate the entire capitol city of Phenom Pehn by telling the people that the Americans were going to bomb the city. Families scrambled to pack their belongings and said goodbye to a life they would never see again.
The Khmer Rouge’s goal was to create a self-sufficient agrarian society; anyone that did not comply with this new society would be killed. As cities were evacuated, the educated city dwellers were forced to live and work with the uneducated farmers- two worlds were colliding. In today’s terms, it would be like a corporate executive leaving his office job to plant corn and milk cows.
In the eyes of the Khmer Rouge, the farmers were “pure” because they had never been tainted by Western ideas or had more than a 6th grade education. The city dwellers did everything they could to fit in, as they knew their fate if they did not.
It is estimated that a fourth of Cambodia’s population was killed during the Khmer Rouge’s four-year reign. People would be killed for any number of reasons- they were a government official before Pol Pot, they were conspiring against the “new government,” they wore glasses which meant they were educated, or they didn’t meet their work quota for the day.
“It is better to kill an innocent person than let a traitor live” was the slogan they lived by. Any suspicion that a person was opposed to the new government meant certain death.
We recently visited the Killing Fields located outside of the capitol city of Phenom Pehn. It’s disturbing. During the Khmer Rouge, people were brought to this location for one reason- to die. They were brought in by the truckload and killed the same day. Large pits were dug and victims were killed in a variety of ways; bullets were too expensive, so garden hoes, axes and clubs were the typical method of death. Victims would kneel before the pit, soon to be their grave, and be slaughtered; some were not even dead when they were buried.
The Khmer Rouge’s reign ended in 1979. In 1980, the mass graves were excavated and a memorial now houses the victims. Clothes and bones continue to surface, especially during the raining season; this was most disturbing to me. Thirty years later you can walk along the designated paths and pull up strips of clothes from the victims.
As I stated earlier, the recent genocide has had a lasting impact on the people of Cambodia. Every day we go to Bible studies and interact with people who lived through this hell. I’ve gotten to know one woman in particular this month that has shared her story with me. Through tears she recollected growing up during the Khmer Rouge and her life since then. Here is a glimpse:
I was born in 1970, the only child to my mother and father. I was six when the Khmer Rouge soldiers entered our village and took my father away. To this day we don’t know where they took him or what they did to him, only that they killed him.
They allowed my mother and I to stay together for a while but then separated us for a few months. My job during this time was to work in a children’s camp making fertilizer for the rice paddies. If we didn’t meet our requirement for the day, we would be beaten. I was very skinny during this time, they food ration was 1 fish for 10 children.
I was very scared and kept to myself. I was happy when I was reunited with my mom and we continued to survive together after the Khmer Rouge lost power. At 19, I became an orphan as my mother passed away. I wanted to die too.
In order to survive, I found work with a Vietnamese family cooking and cleaning. I worked for them for 10 years. You can imagine after 10 years doing the same thing, I was ready for a change and decided to try working with a friend in the city. So I quit my job and started working in the city. It was hard work and I realized I was better off working for the family. So I returned to them and asked for my job back.
I was in shock when the husband confessed he had developed feelings for me and wanted a second wife. I wanted nothing to do with him or his offer of marriage so I left in the night with only a small bag of belongings. I didn’t know where to go but decided to stay with my uncle and his wife in a nearby village.
This arrangement didn’t last long because my uncle was and alcoholic and physically abusive to everyone in his household. Once again, I left not knowing where to go or if my life was worth anything.
Through a friend, I found work cooking for a pastor’s family and began attending their Bible studies. I was skeptical of this new religion as I had been raised Buddhist. Over time, I started to believe this God they spoke of was real and I became a Christian.
Since this time, my friend has married and is raising three children. She and her husband serve the Lord full time and are having an lasting eternal impact on the community where they live.
*If you would like to know more about the Khmer Rouge and how it effected families during their reign, I recommend the book First the Killed my Father: A Daughter of Cambodia Remembers by Loung Ung.
I just wanted to share a thought with you that I’ve been processing this past week. As I was cleaning up the grounds where we live, I was shocked when I saw the “walls” of the bungalow in the back yard.
It was made up of Samaritan’s Purse cardboard boxes. You know, the shoeboxes you make for kids at Christmas time?
These are the kids.
These are the kids who are receiving our gifts.
I think I’ve been traveling for too long because “poverty” seems normal. I work with kids in extreme poverty every day and I don’t even think about it. They’re just normal kids. They love life. They have incredible amounts of energy. They’re excited to receive attention. They love playing limbo with a stick.
But these are the kids. I feel blessed to have met so many.
