>What a week! – Part 3

>Sunday morning arrived too early.  I was still having problems sleeping, the bunk was hard and the weather too warm.  It was 103 in Tijuana on Thursday as we drove down and only slightly cooler on Friday and Saturday.  Sunday was expected to be cooler because there was rain in the forecast.  It still didn’t help me sleep on Saturday night, though.  I tossed and turned most of the night and woke up about 3 feeling as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to my back.

Finally 5:30 arrived.  We were getting up earlier than normal so that we could get to the border early.  After grabbing a cup of tea and rolling up my sleeping bag I also helped with chores around the dorm.  We had to sweep and/or vacuum all the rooms and clean the bathrooms.  We also cleaned up the kitchen and ensured all the water containers were filled.  We carried trash and relined cans.  We also tended to Diane and four of the kids since they woke up feeling quite ill.

Eventually all the vehicles were packed and ready to go.  We said our goodbyes to the staff that got up to see us off and then loaded ourselves up and started down the road.  We actually left the dorms about 6:20, the earliest I ever remember leaving.  The true test would be the lines at the border.

One of the things they tell us in the Saturday evening meeting is not to joke with the border guards because they do not have a sense of humor.  And generally I have seen that to be true.  The guards take thier jobs quite seriously and joking with them can cause delays in getting back across the border.  This trip was an exception, though.  Kirk had only decided to come on this trip at the last minute therefore he did not have his passport.  He just hadn’t ever applied for one before because he had never needed one before.  Although we were all supposed to have a passport in order to return to the states Diane had assured Kirk he could get home with just his birth certificate and drivers’ license.  He was really sweating it as we pulled up to the guard booth.  We had been teasing him all the while we sat in line about making a run for the border.  Adonna, Stephen and I all had our passports so we told Kirk he needed to run on foot so that we could drive across, after all we didn’t need to get shot in a hail of bullets, we had our passports.  It was general hilarity in the truck until we got to the guard booth.

“Where you headed?”

“Folsom, California, sir.”  For those who may not know, there is a rather famous penitentiary there.

“Ah, headed back to jail now, are ya?”

Kirk slumps down in his seat and gives a nervous chuckle.

“May I see your passports?”

“Well, you see, this is where the prison might come into the picture here.”

The guard was actually quite nice about it, he did lecture Kirk and admonished him to get his passport but he let us through with several chuckles and a smile.  We caught up with the rest of our group at the McDonald’s on the American side of the border and after counting noses to ensure everyone got through we hit the road for the Sacramento/Folsom area.

The drive home was as pleasant as the way down.  We played a few word games again, proving I have quite an extensive vocabulary.  We talked more with Stephen about his plans for the future, agreeing that we could all see him as an emergency room doctor due to his calm demeanor.  Finally, 12 hours after leaving El Florido we rolled into the church parking lot.  We were home.


About Go Send or Disobey

John Piper said it succiently... "Go, send, or disobey." This is my journey along path to be a missionary of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
This entry was posted in missions and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s