Things to do in Bolivia: #1 – Ride
down the World's Most Dangerous Road – the Road of Death!
Wow! Say no more! Sign me up! I booked
my trip with Gravity Tours and met at the coffee shop in La Paz early
in the morning. Brits, Danes, Yanks, Germans, Aussies, Kiwis, and a
Paddy named Paddy – our tour guide – climbed into the bus for our
initial ascent. 12,500' is just not high enough to start the ride,
you see. We needed some serious elevation!
One by one, around the bus we went,
stating our name, where we were from, why we were in Bolivia, where
we had been, and where we were going. We were a diverse group united
by a common wish, not a death wish, exactly, but a desire to tickle
death perhaps, and walk away giggling? Some had been traveling for
months or would be; one person quit his job to make the trip. Many
had seen Machu Picchu in Peru, or that's where they were headed next.
The list of sights our group had seen was cut from “1000 Places To
See Before You Die!”
And I felt like the odd man out.
I've done a bit of traveling in my few
years on this planet, and I've seen some interesting places. I hadn't
seen many of the exotic destinations listed by this group, but I
don't think that's what I felt. In general, there was a small buzz
after each person introduced him or herself, a bus wide resonance
with where they had been, or where they were going. Then when I
spoke, it was crickets.
What did I say?
“I came to Bolivia to see the boy I
sponsor through Compassion International. He lives in Potosí and his
8th birthday is on Monday.”
Silence.
Big long pause.
“Okay then, well, how about you?”
Paddy asked the guy behind me. He introduced himself. The buzz
resumed.
I rode a rented mountain bike about 40
miles downhill on what used to be the World's Most Dangerous Road.
It's one lane wide and super twisty with sheer drop offs. Drivers in
trucks and buses and cars and carts used to careen, sometimes around
the corners, sometimes off the sides. There's hardly any traffic now;
the new road was completed in 2006. Today it's just a really long
coasting trip on a bike. It was fun, it really was. I stayed in front
or near the front the whole time, and now I can check that box off my
list.
Just like all the people on the bus
with whom I didn't really connect.
Am I going too far with this? I sensed
a deep undercurrent of dissatisfaction in this group. There was
always one more box to check, one more destination to visit. Crap, my
list is not as long as hers! I wish I had more time to build a more
impressive list! I've been to 30 countries, but he's been to 40! This
is a different version of the American Dream. This funky little
segment of society even scorns those poor people stuck in cubicle
jobs, sweating to pay an overpriced mortgage on an upside down house,
anchored in one place, trying to keep up with the Joneses.
Here's what I've discovered – only
one thing in this life truly satisfies – giving myself
sacrificially in the name of Jesus for the betterment of someone
else.
Yamil, the boy I sponsor in Potosí,
was the saddest child at the project. He walked with his head down,
sat by himself when the other kids had play time, and did not even
try to do his homework. His tutoras told me this in one of the
letters I received from him.
But then he heard that he had a
sponsor.
His whole world changed. He is engaged
in school now. He smiles and laughs. He plays soccer
enthusiastically. He's eating and growing and thriving!
Is there even a box to check for that?
I write him letters and he writes me. I
send a little money each month. And I changed a kid's life? Really?
That's not even a very big sacrifice! Especially with the reward of
knowing him and seeing him grow. (He's at the age now where he's
growing out in preparation for growing up – I'll see that too!)
I brought a soccer ball for his
birthday. I brought candy. . . and toothbrushes and toothpaste. I
brought balsa wood airplanes and towels and vitamins. We spent the
day together at a dinosaur park (they're big in South America, it
seems). We kicked his soccer ball around and ate lunch in the
spinning tower restaurant. He smiled and laughed and sweat poured
down the side of his face as he ran after the ball. He held my hand
as we walked from the teeter totter to the big slide and then to go
look at llamas. He just kept smiling!
Where are you looking for satisfaction?
Are you waiting until you make just a little bit more money before
you give some of it away? It's supposed to hurt a little!
Don't give from your “extra” funds, money you'll never miss, but
from that little stash you've reserved for that special treat you
really deserve. You've worked so hard for it, after all! What
difference could a few dollars possibly make?
$38 a month changed a kid's life, so
you tell me what difference a few bucks could make.
It's about more than money, too. Give
enough and pretty soon it won't be enough. You'll have to give
yourself. Dare you take that risk!?
Now you know, but don't stop there.
Jesus did not separate the sheep and the goats by how they felt about
folks in prison, or hungry people, or the sick and hurting. He did
not separate them by what they knew about poverty or sickness or
being an outcast. He separated them by what they DID with their
knowledge and feelings.
Will you be a sheep or a goat?
No comments:
Post a Comment