The Light of Life

I just returned from Christmas in Peru. We spent a week delivering gifts to fatherless children and wrapping arms around those who rarely receive embraces. I came home to Christmastime hustle and bustle with traffic jams, crowded malls, and endless parties. In the midst of the persistent Christmas tunes and twinkling, festive lights, I find myself lost in the high mountains of Peru, the strong sun beating down on my forehead and the cool breeze rippling across the grass. 

High in the clouds, 14,000 feet up in the air, oxygen was scarce, clean water couldn't be found for miles, and evidences of modern technology were slim. Yet there was so much life. Vibrant hats and shawls bobbed through the fields chasing after little ones. Hands spun new threads, laughter echoed in the valley, animals stirred in the pasture, and the bright sun never ceased shining down in its strength.


Down in the city, the same sun cascaded on the hilltops and produced colors I have never seen before. 

Our group never stopped moving. Two locations a day, eight days in a row - it was a whirlwind, and to be honest it was exhausting. But every morning and afternoon when we pulled into a new orphanage or home, I heard words that shook me and awakened me to the significance of this group of strangers visiting children so far from home, just to show them a little piece of love over Christmas.

They probably thought we were strange. They probably thought we were typical Americans. But in their hearts, they knew there was something more. "Why would these people come from so far, just to see us?"

The forgotten children, the hopeless sons, the abused daughters - even if just for an hour, we got to show them that they are not forgotten, that they are loved, that they have a name.

I watched intently as a young man with special needs slowly opened the backpack he had been given. One by one, he took out each item and carefully inspected his new gifts - a t-shirt, a hat that fit just right, and some really cool shades. The delight on his sweet face was a look I will store away and treasure deep in my heart.  Such a small gift - so simple, yet so appreciated and enjoyed by this young man who has little in this world to call his own.  

Each child's name was called out one at a time, and they came up to receive their gift. Some skipped in excitement, some charged forward in eagerness and zeal, some quietly walked with their heads hung low. Gratitude and thankfulness were always expressed with the uniqueness of each child's personality. 

A home full of teenage moms. Exploitation, absent fathers, so much hurt. The beautiful girls received their gifts with humility and excitement. After an afternoon of nail-painting, crafts, and Bible stories, a bubbly, new-found friend I had made whispered to me as we were leaving: "I always like when your group comes, not just because of the gifts, but because it shows that you remember us and know we are still here."

Scattered across Peru, hidden in the crowds of the city or forgotten in the remote highlands above, children long for better lives - stronger families, unconditional love, someone who remembers.

Some have answered the call. Caretakers have given their lives to care for children as their own. Selfless workers persevere through screams, cries, and long days. Saints answer the children's heart-wrenching questions of "Why me?" One noble man sold everything he had, moved to Peru, and devoted his entire life to finding troublesome boys on the streets and giving them a home. Twenty-five years later, I could not hold back my tears as the voices of those now equipped, kind, and thriving boys joined together in a mighty anthem of their proud home - a place where they are united, cared for, and given a new start. 


In the dismal circumstances permeating the country of Peru, there were moments of promise, reminders of the work God is accomplishing among people He created, small glimpses of light. 

After growing up in an orphanage, one young woman set out to start life on her own. With rent bills piling up and costs for college tuition looming, she sought another job but things fell through. At the end of her rope, just when she felt hopeless and was about to give up, she received an invitation to join a Buckner transition home. It was hundreds of miles from her small, rural hometown, but in her desperation she decided with only a moment's notice to leave behind her old life and start fresh in a new city. As she stood in her new room recounting her recent story to me, tears filled her eyes and she explained with much emotion and gratitude, "Buckner was like a bright light in my life when I needed it most. It has given me a second chance."

In the midst of my exhaustion and fatigue, I saw the light of hope filling a country of despairing hearts. For some, children were given mothers, friends became sisters, and the family that each child deserves and yearns for was established. Still, there are so many in need of love, care, attention, and the smallest of gifts.

But even in the depths of the valleys and the desolate corners of the cities, the hot Peruvian sun still shines bright. 

"In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." -John 1:4

Smiles of the Earth

I'm in Saudi Arabia and just spoke with an American man who lives here but grew up in Arizona and lived in Dallas for a time. Yes, this world is small. There's also a man next to me who breathlessly stumbled onto the plane with mad eyes and tangled hair. His whiskey snores are puttering from his exhausted mouth, and he's spilling into my seat.


By the time I touch down on American soil again, I'll have been on four continents in 24 hours. The world has shrunk. People are everywhere. And everywhere is so different, but everywhere is the same.

A mother near me is bouncing her baby. His toothless smile is overwhelming his tiny face. I've seen many grins like that this week, painted on the faces of every type of person, painted on the face of humanity.
 
Children ran, arms were flung, hugs held tight - the repeated moment I treasured over and over this week. Mothers curled their lips in pride, carefully watching their beloved little ones play. Hard working men teased and elbowed in jest with each other, with deep creases rolling across their worn eyes as their stained teeth peered out from behind dark skin. Friends prayed, calling out to a mighty God. Laborers wept in satisfaction of their work.

Smiles.

The city was full of dirt. There are buildings, there were people - but when does it become a city? There were also shacks, donkeys, and rickshaws. But the city bustles. Men compete in the market. Traffic piles together. Drivers hold hands as patient road rage protects each attentive driver brushing against danger in the midst of traffic chaos. Order and rules are mocked. Yet still... 

Friendly smiles. Enemy friends.

 

The countryside stands quiet. Still air invites simplicity. Life is not a race, it's not a competition. It's day by day, it's simple, and it's full of beauty. A bus load of foreign faces pummeled through the stillness and unsettled the ground, yet faces grinned and arms vigorously waved. Children, families - possessing thatched homes, livestock, and the freedom of the earth. They own nothing but the world, and the earth has become them. Earth and flesh find no separation. Feet are mud, and the earth travels with the children.
 

Their smiles fill the earth.

The best smile of the week was in the poor, sad eyes of the very last child to receive a new pair of shoes. Quietly, patiently, the child watched in silence and respect as each of his friends received new shoes - no expectation or entitlement, yet clearly filled with all hope for his own possession. Head bowed low, a thank you was given only through eyes that darted up in delight then scuffled off with clomping new shoes. Another child strutted to friends, proud to model his new pair.
 

Giggles, gratefulness, grins - all filling up a room with smiles of every sort.
 

A tear smile rolled down the cheek of a man bent at the foot of a child, wiping away the filth of the earth. Jesus' smile. His love poured out.

These people are nothing like me, but they are human. We love, we find hope, and we smile. 

And this small earth is where we all call home.

Freedom

 

 

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free, so let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. Choose life that you might LIVE. The Lord commanded us to obey all these decrees and to fear God for OUR GOOD always, and to preserve our lives. For we will be counted righteous when we obey all the commands the Lord has given us: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways. Hear and be careful to do my commands, that it may go well with you, for I have come that you may have life, and have it abundantly.”

 

O Lord, I have called on your name from the depths of the pit, and you heard my plea. You came near when I called and told me not to fear. You have taken up my cause and redeemed my life. You have brought me out of darkness into your marvelous light. Now there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Whoever believes in you will not be put to shame. My guilt is taken away, and you let me forget the shame of my youth.

 

I don’t mean to say that I have already achieved perfection, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead. I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward. I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ. He is my portion, therefore I will hope in Him.

 

In running with perseverance the race marked out for us, God will generously provide all we need, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, we may abound in every good work. Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God. Your grace is sufficient for us, and you are able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to your power at work within us. For your divine power is made perfect in weakness and has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness. You equip us with everything good that we may do your will. We partake in Christ's divine nature, and through faith with virtue, we are kept from being ineffective and unfruitful in the knowledge of Christ. May we be filled with the knowledge of your will so that we will walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to you and bearing fruit in every good work. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom!!

The Empire

The empire. It rules with a hard fist. It dominates and conquers. It grows and produces; it lives and lives on.

Every year there's a new harvest, but the worst storms never bring famine. Hunger maybe, but only for a time. Resilience is a powerful soil.

The harvests began years ago, when the past was the present, old things were new, and dreams weren't mist. A city was laid. A city built by the hands of dreamers.

Bleeding hands and sweating brows of the determined formed the infrastructure of progress and hope. Our family - who turned on their villages, flags, kin, and lovers - erected a child on wobbly knees, who they only hoped would later learn to walk firm and fierce as an adult.

Endless labor and stars within reach, their vision was secured. They fought for their dream, they strained and bruised for the sake of a future, for life, for quality. But quality and breath were not theirs. They forsook the familiar and the ease for the sake of their children, and children's children, and... me.

Comfort, knowledge, convenience, efficiency, opportunity and wealth unimaginable - now not at my fingertips but in my hands, filling my fists and spilling over.

Mine, ours. Real, full life - lived out as the dream of fighters, those sweat-stained laborers and dreamers.
The city carries on. Life IS, all the more. Man has become one, everyone leveled together.

The wheel spins. The grapes burst on the vine. Mortality - humanity - has never seemed so close.

So many sights, sounds, smells. So real, so rich. Suffocating and drowning, yet enticing and drawing. The world grins indifference at each one and bears its terrible white bite at existence. Soft daylight beckons skepticism and the darkness of night reveals all.
 
New York - The city where mortality presents itself boldly and greets men warmly on streets. The sirens, the shrill piercing. The mysterious closed doors and sterile white staircases. The stars falling from the morning sky. The growling dogs. Always the unspoken fear, the apprehension secretly and quietly wrapping up the human heart, trumpeting around as determination, masquerading as a fight for the future. Real terrors, nightmares come alive, on top of dreams come true. A gnawing suspicion, uniting each stranger, yet distancing them in the grand moments of freedom when eyes lock and gazes hold fast, only for a brief instant, then furtively return to the world of independence and conquering.

Dragon devours dragon, and eagle befriends mouse. All are enemies, yet all war together.
Life, sleep, war - all conquered together as one.

The city of dreams, the city of the world, with no space to see it. No room to enjoy it. Best friends, neighbors, sidewalk-sharers - all together, all on the island, reaching out to the stars for space.
 
The ends of the earth have found their home together, every corner whispering new opportunities. There is no want. The world is here. The only place left to go is up.

5 Reasons People Never Go to Costa Rica Only Once

Originally posted on November 2, 2012 by globeaware

 

After hours of mulling over hundreds of pictures of Costa Rica in the office one day (that’s what happens when you work in the travel business), I decided that I just couldn’t stand anymore. Seeing Costa Rica from a swivel chair behind a desk is just not as satisfying as being there in person. So I checked my bank account, arranged my scheduled, and bought tickets three weeks out for a quick, spontaneous trip to the tropical paradise.

Amongst the sputtering volcanoes, paradisiacal hot springs, rumbling earthquakes, and cascading waterfalls, I discovered the magic and charm of the popular and beloved country. Ironically, my adventures brought me across the path of numerous individuals who have also fallen in love with the country. It didn’t take long to figure out that there’s something a little bit addicting about the Rich Coast. I’ve spoken with families who travel biannually with their children, volunteers that have spent every work or school holiday helping out in the rainforest, honeymooners who inevitably return for an anniversary celebration, and friends traveling together who return home after a week, only to decide to quit their jobs, sell their houses, and return to Costa Rica for good.

So what is it that draws these visitors in and guarantees that life will never be the same again without regular trips to their favorite country? In my few days there, I picked up on a few keys to the magic of Costa Rica that will ensure that once you visit, you will absolutely return:

1. Days start at 5:30 am. 

If you’re anything like me and a complete night owl, that sounds perfectly horrible. But when an entire society is set up to start earlier, then that means it also ends earlier, so there’s still plenty of time for a good night’s rest. With dinner at 5 and shops that close shortly thereafter, you won’t find too many activities tempting you to stay out late. Not surprisingly, a morning walk on the streets at the crack of dawn (literally… the sun rises at 5:30 year round) promises a bustling atmosphere full of workers, travelers, and rush hour traffic. The benefit of such an early schedule? Well, with a climate that guarantees rain in the afternoon every day for six months out of the year, you learn to adapt to be awake when there’s actually going to be sunshine. Plus, I believe we can all recall Ben’s wise advice to help us become people who are healthy, wealthy, and wise.

2. Costa Rica has 12 active volcanoes.

And this doesn’t send people running? No – it actually does the opposite! Despite their active status, Costa Rica’s volcanoes draw in hundreds of thousands of tourists every year. Not only do lava and billowing smoke out of mountain tops make great tourist attractions, but so do the natural hot springs at the base that are formed as a result of the volcanic environment. For those looking for a relaxing resort vacation, a refreshing day at the spa, or a cocktail drink by the poolside, these pools and hot tubs filled completely with natural water from the mountain springs are the place to be. It’s kind of like Mother Nature’s Jacuzzi. And if a bath in steaming natural springs in the forest wasn’t enough already, add in the picturesque view of a smoking volcano in the background. Like I said – paradise.

3. You can experience it all without having to go very far.

If you want to experience exhilarating adventures in the mountains, warm and crystal clear beaches, the tropical bliss of the jungles, and the busyness of activities in the city, Costa Rica is the place to be. From the U.S, it’s easy to find plenty of options for non-stop flights straight into San Jose. Plus, it’s only a hop, skip, and a jump from your home territory – a relatively short flight compared to most international trips. Once in San Jose, visitors can meander through the downtown, tour the national theater, shop in local farmers markets, and kick back in the plazas. Amazingly, just a few hours outside of the city are boundless opportunities for adventure and thrill.  National parks spread out among every corner of the country and promise the outdoor adventurists endless chances for some true oneness with nature. If you’re looking for a little change of scenery, visit one of Costa Rica’s unforgettable beaches. Only two hours away from the city is the Manuel Antonio beach, one of finest in the country. From snorkeling to kayaking to zip lining, you’re sure to get a taste of the addicting beauty that will keep you coming back!

4. Pura Vida

More than just the most commonly used phrase in the country, pura vida encompasses everything it means to be Costa Rican. A simple phrase that literally translates to “pure life,” Pura Vida expresses the simple life that Costa Ricans are so well-known for – chilling out, enjoying family and friends, and appreciating the beauty of their country around them. This popular phrase essentially carries a meaning similar to hakuna matata, and it doesn’t take long once you’re there to adopt the phrase and apply it to your own life. Pura vida may open up a conversation, be a response to describe how someone’s doing, or be parting words between friends. Moreover, however, it’s a philosophy that guides Ticos and Ticas in their way of life. Consequently, a Tico or Tica may be one of the friendliest people you’ll ever meet. There’s no such thing as a stranger in Costa Rica, but everyone treats each other with respect and with the familiarity of friendship. Whether you’re a tourist or local, you can be assured that everyone you encounter will exude the happiness and peace that is so characteristic of the country that makes everyone feel at home.

5. Costa Rica is not actually a third world country.

Somehow, our society has developed this idea of Costa Rica as being a third-world country. That’s just not true. For starters, the term third-world became popular years ago but is now outdated. Plus, Costa Rica is now considered a high developing country, with poverty rapidly decreasing. In fact, it’s now one of the most stable countries in Central America and boasts a fantastic and challenging education system, producing literacy rates of almost 95%. Not only that, but visitors to Costa Rica will quickly notice how modernized the country has become. We may not want to admit it, but let’s face it: Americans like what is familiar and comfortable to them. Thanks to all the new developments and growth in Costa Rica, plenty of those familiarities are now popping up all over the country. From clean, well-kept bathrooms (a rarity abroad) to your favorite fast-food chains, Costa Rica offers a taste of the uniqueness of other cultures while still providing plenty of the comforts that make us feel at home. And you wonder why people keep going back! ;)



Whether it’s the natural beauty, the calm and simple lifestyle, or the comfort and ease of an overseas journey, Costa Rica seems to have something to offer to everyone. It is filled with a unique magic that satisfies, yet always leaves you wanting more. Take a trip to the natural paradise and it’s guaranteed that someday, you will be back again.

Stop Fearing, Start Living, and GO

Originally posted October 1, 2012 by globeaware

 

 

The plane gently jolted and bumped in the cloudy midnight sky. The only sound in the hushed plane was the steady breathing of sleeping passengers and the occasional jostling of their belongings. It was quiet and mostly still, except for the roaring hum of the engine that was rocking everyone to sleep.

 

Everyone except me, that is.

 

I stretched out onto the extra seat next to me and laid down comfortably, closing my eyes and hoping the endless minutes would go by faster. But I was wide awake. A million thoughts whirled through my head.

 

 

What time was it? Where in the world were we? How was it possible to leave in the morning, fly for 10 hours, and then arrive in the morning? Did we just eat lunch or was that dinner? When was this Twilight zone feeling time warp going to end? And most importantly…

 

When will it be my birthday?

 

I had boarded the plane as a 16 year old virgin traveler on June 10, but I knew that with the time zone change during the flight, the special day of June 11th wasn’t far off. By the time our plane landed in London, I felt like an expert traveler after enduring my first overseas flight, not to mention that I had freshly turned 17 years old several hours before and still had another full day to celebrate.

 

I finally discovered the trick to extending birthday celebrations

 

 

With tired and dreary eyes but an awakened and excited spirit, I absorbed the beauty of every iconic site we passed by. I was awestruck by the ancient wonders my eyes were beholding; things I had only ever read about or seen on TV were actually real, and they were more incredible than I could have ever imagined.

The world had finally been opened to me, and it was right there at my fingertips, within my reach.

~~~

 

 

That first transatlantic journey aroused in me a sense of adventure and passion for exploration and discovery that I didn’t know existed within me. From that point forward, nothing could stop me from turning down an adventure or opportunity to travel to new places.

 

A few more family vacations through Europe and I was soon itching to see more of the world, parts my family had never even dreamed of going to.

 

It wasn’t long before I signed up to go teach English in Korea over the summer, and to be honest, the trip changed my entire life.

 

It was a different kind of traveling. It was so far, so different, so exotic. It wasn’t vacation, it was a chance to engage in the culture and work directly in the midst of a people so different from myself. For once I wasn’t a tourist, I was contributing to the Korean society, to the world – and I was on the biggest adventure of my life.

 

 

Since then I haven’t stopped. I can’t get enough of diverse cultures, flavorful cuisines, and opposite perspectives on life and existence. On more than one occasion, I’ve jumped on a plane with very short notice, and whizzed off to live for several months in other countries.

 

People think I’m crazy.

 

My friends don’t understand how I do it.

 

Everyone always asks how I am so courageous.

 

The thing is – I’ve never once thought about it as being daring or courageous. I just have a passion, so I follow it. And I guess sometimes that means taking risks to get there.

 

 

Most of the people who ask me about my travels are absolutely fascinated by it. They talk about how it’s their lifelong dream to be able to do some of the things they see in my pictures.

 

But sadly, they never go.

 

I’m not sure what stops people – if it’s money, jobs, habits…

 

But I think most of the time it’s just fear.

 

Fear of change, fear of something new, fear of something different or uncomfortable. Fear of the unknown or fear of feeling out of place.

 

When it comes down to it, the only thing stopping you from living your adventure is… well, You.

 

Traveling doesn’t take a ton of money, contrary to what most people think. It takes a willingness to GO, an openness to other cultures and mindsets, and a sense of adventure that’s eager to learn and explore.

 

You can spend your whole life dreaming. Or you can take the first step, take a risk, and dive into the greatest adventure of your life.

 

If you want to go, go.

 

 

If you want to see the world, stop making excuses. And stop being afraid. Fear will never lead you on an adventure. It might keep you safe, it might keep you comfortable, but life is meant to be LIVED.

 

Take a risk. Learn to live. And get ready for a life of adventure, discovery, and passion.

 

I don’t know about you, but I’d say that’s the absolute best kind of life to live.

The Russian Shack

 

Our midnight bus ride across the Russian countryside promised anything but comfort, ease, and brevity. As the half-sized bus pummeled across worn highways, I hugged my knees close to my chest and tilted my chin to the ceiling, fatigued and desperate for clean,  crisp air. The air was thick and sticky, yet the hairs on my arms stood on end from the chilly breeze wafting in through the cracked window. The sun had long departed, but the summer sky still offered a murky twilight. Sinister moon beams shone down as leftover sun rays peeped from below the horizon, reminding us that night would never truly come. In the soft midnight glow, I could see the jumbled mess of my exhausted friends, collapsed on each other in an attempt to disappear into the world of sleep before dawn’s premature arrival.

 

Our destination was Moscow, but three hours into the trip I was nearly convinced I would never survive the entire journey.

 

The quiet peacefulness was abruptly interrupted as the driver jerked the bus onto a rugged gravel road.  Eyes blinked open. Mouths yawned wide. Bodies stirred, and the bus halted.

 

 

Our one and only rest stop for the night.

 

I reluctantly exited the van along with the other passengers and found myself in the eerie shadows of majestic birch trees. On the other side of the van, away from the road, a small wooded shack stood mostly upright in a clearing, lit by a lone fluorescent bulb. Two tattered doors on opposite sides of the shack welcomed desperate road travelers. Predictably, they repulsed anyone else.

At first I refused. I could not… I would not bring myself to enter.

 

But those few drops of water that I had frantically splashed down an hour earlier in the muggy night air danced in my mind, reminding me of their imminent persecution.

 

We were only halfway to our destination. Refusal guaranteed misery long before our arrival. I had no choice.

 

I shuffled my feet hesitantly in the dirt, steering myself toward the illuminated shack. Thirty paces to go, and my body was violently repelled, as if I had catapulted myself directly into a brick wall, erected to prevent anyone from drawing nearer.

 

But this was no wall of bricks. No… the invisible barrier was a thick wall of stench - toxic fumes that stifled my airways when I breathed in the night air.  I looked up at the shack and knew exactly where the rancid odor was emanating from.

 

 

I felt suffocated. I was repulsed. And we were still thirty paces away.

 

To my luck, one of my travel companions had matched my thought process after waking from her restless bus slumber and arrived at the same conclusion: there was no choice.

 

With heads spinning and lungs gagging for clean air, my companion and I turned to each other and silently nodded. Our bold and courageous eyes signaled to each other mutual dedication to the unbearable task at hand. She handed me my life-saver: a soft tissue she had retrieved from the pack she carried with her.

 

Some of us travelers are never as prepared as we ought to be.

I quickly placed the tissue near my nose, bracing myself to plow head-on into the wall of stench.

3…2…1…

 

I gasped in the last bit of fresh air I could trace, sucking it deep down into my lungs, expanding my chest until it felt as if it would burst open. Then I pounded my body through the fog of putrescence, sprinting for the shack as fast as my feet would carry me. We flung open the dilapidated doors on both sides of the shack.

 

If I had had enough time (and air) to stop and think, I would have questioned the sanitation and safety of every aspect of the enclosure. There was nothing but a hole in the ground, with two filthy pieces of damp wood slapped on either side. Had I thought about it, I would have noticed the foot prints in the muck and refuse covering the entirety of the ground. But all I thought about was how swiftly I could accomplish the task and exit this hell hole.

 

And so I did. But as I uncomfortably perched myself above the dark, dank hole, my air supply began to wane. My chest slowly caved inwards and my lungs began to burn. I wanted…needed… so badly to gasp for air.

 

 

And thus my saving grace – the tissue. Securing my mouth and nose, I shielded myself from the stench surrounding me. I did not dare gulp for air; only a slight inhale to replenish my body enough to sustain myself for the next few seconds.

 

The door slammed next to me. My friend was already escaping. I removed the tissue from my nose and found proper use for it.  I attempted to re-situate myself without sullying any of my clothing in the mysterious substances around me. Then I bolted.

 

The whole escapade lasted no more than 20 seconds.

 

We climbed back into the bus, sighing with relief that we had successfully accomplished our hazardous mission. The rest of our travel companions did not seem to find triumph in our endeavors.  Immediately, they were struck by the same pungent scent that we had just barreled through.

Except this time it wasn’t coming from the shack.

 

My friend and I sniffed around like canines, desperately trying to locate the smell. We landed in despair in front of each other. And we were swallowed in anguish when we realized how deep the odor had seeped into us.

 

Hair, shirt, skin….

 

And it had only been 20 seconds.

 

I slunk back into my uncomfortable seat, exasperated by the foul fumes coming from me. The other passengers turned away in disgust. I pulled my knees back up to my chest and tilted my head toward the ceiling, hoping I might catch a whiff of the cool draft coming in through the cracked window.

 

It was going to be a long drive to Moscow.

 

 

 

Originally posted by Globe Aware Volunteer Vacations.