iHateGreenBeans

Kickin’ it on Veradero Beach in Quoobah. 

Not bad, huh?

Two weeks ago, I went on a mission trip to the island.  The picture above is from our fun day at the beach.  But the majority of our time was spent at a camp for high school kids. 

As you can imagine, communist countries do not tolerate Christian-based organizations.  The individuals running the camps risk their lives to bring these kids together each summer.  I was told that the government runs periodic Internet searches to see what bloggers like me are writing about their country.  Naturally, I will not be naming the organization and will mis-spell the island’s name throughout this post. 

I’m sneaky like that.

And now I will share with you the top four lessons I learned while in Quoobah.  I will do it David Letterman style, because you guys know how much I love my lists:

4.  Be thankful for the small stuff in life. 

Before visiting this beautiful island, I don’t think I had ever been thankful for toilet seats.  Moreover, I don’t think I had ever been thankful for the ability to FLUSH the toilet.  I’ve been to countries in which your morning shower was ice cold, but I had never thought to be grateful that water is actually coming out of the shower head.  These are thoughts that entered my head every time I used the bathroom.

Here’s a picture of our toilet. 

As you can see, there is no seat.  Totally manageable.  And it flushed.  PTL!  Sure you have to approach the toilet like you are scooting inside a booth at a restaurant due to the fact that the sink is over said bowl, but you are reminded that IT FLUSHES and you quickly get over it. 

Here’s a picture of me eating pizza. 

Notice…it came out of a plastic bag.  We were SO HUNGRY that day, that I didn’t care that my cheese pizza was coming from a street vendor in a plastic bag.  I’ve never been so thankful for pizza. 

On a serious note, I’m thankful that I have the freedom to pray and worship however and whenever I want.  These kids have to be a bit more careful.  But when you put them in a group of other believers in a secure location…

it’s awe-inspiring.  I love the kid in this picture. 

3.  There are no language barriers with God.

Anyone can relate to music.

A borrowed soccer ball can entertain for hours.

2.  A servant’s heart can be used in ways you may not have expected.

Our purpose on this mission trip was to provide the staff of the organization with extra hands, arms, words, hugs and general encouragement.  There were 300 kids at this camp and 10 staff members.  Our extra 15 bodies came in handy for small groups, fun time and organization of activities.

However, on day two, three of our key people were struck with what can only be described as the mother of all food poisoning incidents.  That toilet/sink combo sort of came in handy…I’m just saying. 

Of course we weren’t going to send our fellow team members off to the Quooban hospital by themselves.  Two of us went along to offer moral support.

That morning, I had thought about what a priviledge it is to wake up every day with nothing more to do than to serve others.  There was no Blackberry, no website, no article to create, no newsletter to write…only my services to give.  I prayed that God would use me mightily on the island.

I didn’t know that holding a bucket as my friend threw up was how He would choose to use me on the trip.  It was almost comical as I followed my other friend to the bathroom (with no toilet seat) holding her saline drip to think about how the Lord gifted me with a merciful heart and THIS is exactly where I was supposed to be…not praciticing my Spanish on innocent school girls, trying to have a conversation about Twilight and if they are Team Jacob or Team Edward. 

1.  God is moving mountains in this place.

These kids traveled many hours to get to the small town where the camp was located.  Some were packed in the back of trucks, where they had to stand the entire time.  The facility was less-than-stellar, but you never heard a complaint from one of them.  Not one.  The girls were in dormitories that held about nine bunk beds.  There were two girls to one twin bed.  The boys slept on mattresses in the sanctuary.  Our staff of 15 slept in one room together in one long line of bodies.

And did I mention there was one bathroom for the girls and one bathroom for the boys?  That’s two toilets for around 350 people. 

But these kids could care less.  They were mezmorized by the talks.  They were active in the small groups.  They were not ashamed to worship and they were proud to carry their Bibles and eager to learn anything they could.

God is moving mountains in this place and it was a joy to wintess first-hand. 

We are so blessed to live in a country where we can pray when we want.  Sing hymns when we want.  Gather together to study the Bible in groups.  Read a blog about mission trips…or even make the decision to stop reading a blog because the subject is about mission trips. 

And we are blessed that our toilets have seats and our pizza comes in boxes.  PTL indeed!

At Young Life’s Halloween Club on Monday night.

Can you guess what my costume is supposed to be?

** Update: Great job posters! I’m a shower puff/loofah! **

Dreading HUET Class. Also known as: Helicopter Underwater Evacuation Training.

Oh. I’m not joking. You would be dreading it too. Somehow, I’ve been on a few offshore rigs before and never once been asked if I am certified. Apparently, you can sign a waiver saying that if you helicopter goes down, you won’t hold anyone liable. But those days are over I hear, according to my boss. We had one of our “infamous” chats just last week:

Boss: “Good news and bad news.”
Lincee: “Should I sit down?”

Boss: “You are probably going to Rio to visit a few offshore rigs in Brazil.”
Lincee: “Sweet!”

I start singing “Welcome. Welcome to Rio! The tropical hot spot. Saludos amigos.”…a song that was included on my Disco Mickey Mouse cassette tape that I wore out playing over and over and over again when I was a kid. He didn’t laugh. Just stared at me funny. I did, however, finish the chorus before preparing myself for the bad news.

Boss: “We will have to take HUET classes. That’s where they dunk you under water and you have to escape out of the helicopter simulator. You okay with that?”
Lincee: “Indubitably.”

He leaves my office and the first thing I do is “YouTube” this HUET business. As I’m searching, I convince myself it’s not going to be that bad. I love to swim. I can hold my breath like a champ. This is going to be a piece of cake.

Then I see the video. Things are looking good. Climbing in the chair. Okay. Buckling in. Sort of creepy, but got it. Crossing arms and signals. Good, good. And then dunk!

HOLD THE PHONE! THEY DUNK YOU UPSIDE DOWN?

Cleansing deep breathes to get my heart rate down. In through the nose. Out the mouth.

My class is in Galveston. By the time I make the hour long trip there, I’ve convinced myself that the test will take place in a dark simulator with five or six guys in scuba gear ready to rescue me when I start flailing about in a panic. I wonder if my steel toe boots are going to sink me to the bottom of the tank that is filled with murky water and if I’ll be able to move in my orange coveralls. What if I can’t hold my breath that long? What if I pass out and they have to do CPR? What if I’m the first one to ever fail HUET? What if I FAIL and am unable to go to Rio?

The class is small. We are in a room with about ten other people. I’ve arrived with my boss and the guy who takes all of our photography and video. We sit near the back and listen to our instructor Jim.

Clearly, Jim has done this for a very long time. It’s evident by the way he describes “all you need to know” about HUET safety. Basically, you strap yourself in and cross your hands over your chest. For today’s class, there are two exits…one to the right and one to the left. You will be dunked three times. The first time, you exit your window and your partner exits his. The second time, you both go out your window and the third, you both go out his.

Jim says that it’s simple really. Just place your hand on the window pane at the bottom with your strong hand and unbuckle with your left and swim out. If you get scared, put your hands on your forehead and you will be pulled out.

And that’s it. The pep talk took all of ten minutes. I look at my boss. He looks back. We dissolve into a fit of giggles.

Next, we watch a 20 minute video about three dudes who work offshore. It appeared to be made in the early 80s. The video simulated a helicopter going down and what do to if you are ever in this situation.

The narrator’s first suggestion was to remain calm and take a deep breath.

Okay.

He then walks us through Jim’s evaluation descriptions, reminding us to not kick our legs…whatever we do. All three guys make it out safely. Hurray!

Then they walk us through what to do if things don’t go as planned. Such as: what if your window doesn’t pop open? What if there’s a “perished” colleague in your way? What if your seat belt doesn’t unfasten?

All very valid questions in my book.

My favorite part was when they tell you not to take a big breath when you pop up out of the water because there is more than likely going to be a fire or some sort of fuel spill. It’s best to just take a quick breath and go back under and swim away from the debris. Then look for survivors. Survivors.

Lights come on and Jim asks if there are any questions. We all sit in solemn silence. He claps his hands and says, “Now. Let’s get out there and pass this test!”

We all look at each other baffled. I think we may have been in the classroom for less than an hour. And we are going to the simulator? Already? Don’t I need more instruction? Can I watch that video again, because this time I won’t be distracted by the “perished” colleague’s mullet. Please?

Nope. We get the “fun part” over with at the beginning of class.

Now I’m nervous. I change into my coveralls and head to the car. We arrive at our destination and it’s a swimming pool. With a steel cage. THAT’S IT? No murky water? No dark simulator? Oh look! There’s Jim! He’s rockin’ some sweet back hair. I guess there won’t be five guys in scuba gear ready to save me. It’s just Jim. This isn’t so bad after all!

Our first part of training was jumping off diving boards and swimming in long lines hanging on to each other with our legs. I made sure not to swim by my boss during this portion. My legs were wrapped around a nice marine biologist thank you very much. We practiced huddling in a circle and keeping the middle guy warm. This happened to be Mark…our photographer. That wasn’t awkward at all. We then all enter a rescue life raft. I was the last to be hoisted through the opening by two guys. They pulled me in so hard, that my face landed in the middle of everyone’s feet and then I slid ALMOST into the crotch of the marine biologist. Again…not awkward at all.

We exit the pool and go to the cold water immersion suit area. These things are basically big rubber jumpers that are supposed to keep you warm in the North Sea should you have to jump overboard. They make you look like a red Gumby. The trick is to wiggle in them on the ground like you are entering a sleeping bag. Then you stand up, put your arms in and attempt to zip up the front. Clearly, this was a problem for me.

They had us jump off the diving board again and do all the same things in these ginormous suits that we just did with life jackets. Fun times.

Now for the hard part. There are six of us in this portion of the simulator test. We have to pair off. My boss chooses me. And we are stuck going last.

The first pair get in the simulator and dunk three times with flying colors.
The second pair have one little bump…the girl’s helmet fell off because her head is so small.

And now it’s our turn. My boss enters first and I’m behind him. I’ve been feeling pretty confident and it isn’t until I buckle myself (shoulder harness and lap belt) that I begin to think, “Is this really necessary? I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m going to “perish” if I go down in a helicopter. And knowing my luck, a shark will probably eat me if I happen to survive impact, getting out of the seat, finding a window, opening a window, swimming to the top and not breathing in toxic air. Maybe I should re-think this job. I could write for a living. Maybe I could call ABC and see if they would give me a job as Chris Harrison’s assistant or something. Heck. I’ll wait tables. Maybe go back to Disney World…”

Jim is yelling at me. “READY?” Mark the photographer is yelling at me. “SMILE!”

We both say we are ready and he yells, “TAKE A DEEP BREATH!” and we plunge sideways into the water.

All I can remember is that up became down and right became left. And there were lots of bubbles. I feel my window pane, unbuckle quickly, waiting for the eight second tap that it is time to swim out. A little disoriented which way is up, I head for sun and pop out of the water.

I did it!

Back in the simulator for round two. My boss got water up his nose and in his ears. He can’t hear me, or is ignoring me, when I ask, “Which way do you want to go out this time? Me follow you or you follow me?”

Nothing. He doesn’t answer. He’s mentally preparing himself for the quest. I have to punch him into reality. We decide he will follow me on round two.

Jim yells again, “READY?”
We agree.

Dunk number two. I find my pane, unbuckle and feel a push from my side. My boss is forcing me out the window! Being a rule follower, I was waiting for the eight second tap, but in his world, you survive by any means necessary. I head out the window and he proceeds to grab my leg. Not for dear life…but an aggressive grab none the less. I basically pull my leg through the window and he follows, popping up out of the water before me! I then get lectured on how I need to be quicker when evacuating an upside down helicopter simulator in the middle of a pool on the Texas A&M campus in Galveston.

Yeah. Note to self. Got it Bill.

Round three. I am to follow him out his window now. We are old pros by this point and I hang out upside down for a while thinking I need to give him some time to unbuckle and get through the window. I reach over and he is GONE. Dude has left me to “perish” below. I cross hand over hand to escape. It is then that one of my toe thumbs gets wedged somehow between two pieces of metal. No time to waste, I jerk it out with all my might. When I reach the surface, he is dried off, drinking water and half-way dry. Thanks a lot Bill.

Soaking wet, we make our way to the car where are dry clothes are stored. We walk in silence and then Mark says, “That was pretty cool.” We all agree, high five each other and talk about the times we were really nervous but didn’t want to tell the other one. Then we all call everyone we know to say we are alive and bask in the glory of the fact that it’s OVER!

All in a day’s work my friend. Next stop? Rio de Janeiro baby!

In front of the Burj al-Arab hotel in Dubai…