This picture was taken while riding in the back of a pickup truck on a Guatemalan two lane road. It seems that the primary mode of transportation in Guatemala is riding in the back of a pickup truck. The country is full of Toyotas trucks with "lumber" racks stuffed with three generations of passengers. We can't do this in the USA now, it's illegal, it's dangerous, it's the kind of thing you do with dogs and livestock. People should be in a seat and a seatbelt. I had my first chance to ride in the back of the truck was when we traveled from the capiatal city out into the villages at night.
I'm an adrenaline junky and love to live on the edge, but I realized that is it usually me who is at the wheel of the machine, bicycle or skis that is carving a path through danger. If I crash it's my fault. Due to my "control issues" I usually don't do well with someone else at the wheel in dicy situations. I politely declined my first pickup bed ride, noticing there was a vacancy in the front seat of the truck. "I've cheated death too many times already" I told the driver. Then it occurred to me that everyone in the whole country was riding in the back of a Toyota truck, hanging on for dear life because it clearly beats the alternative...walking. As one of my military friends once said "a bad ride beats a good walk any day." One of the people on our team is a doctor who works in an emergency room in Guatemala City, so I asked her how much carnage she sees from pickup truck wrecks involving passengers. She said it almost never happens, but the "Chicken buses" are the accidents with lots of injuries.
Wow, it's safer to ride in the back of a pickup truck than on a public bus...I'll have to warm up to this idea.
Over the next few days I began to get more comfortable with the back of the truck thing. Riding in the back forces you to embrace the concept of powerlessness like few other experiences. Imagine standing in the back of a pickup truck going 70 mph and passing a semi-truck on an uphill climb around a right hand corner. You have two options: 1. Jump out, or 2. Shut up and enjoy the thrill.
Let go. Get accustomed to feeling out of control. Out of your comfort zone.
If you live through option #2 enough times you start to embrace a certain sense of powerlessness.
Not only was this pickup thing going on, but my passport and cell phone had been placed in a safe in the capital city and I had about twenty bucks in my pocket. As an American male, most of my identity and ability to control my circumstances were stripped from me. And after a few days of this I began to embrace the transforming nature of this experience.
I remember riding in the back of a pickup truck when I was a kid and it was the greatest thing in the world. I started to feel like a little kid asking my dad if I could ride in the back on our way to the dump. Or like a dog who hangs his head out of the window to catch a face full of breeze. It was breathing life into my soul.
I am reminded about how the followers of Jesus were constantly put in situations where they were out of control or in unfamiliar situations and it bred something in them. I think that following Jesus means walking behind him into lots of unfamiliar, uncomfortable situations. How ironic that church culture has become known for being boring and predictable in light of the truth about following the historical Jesus?
I'm not saying that everyone needs to endanager themselves to get in touch with this. I'm just pointing out an observation about my soul. I think there are numerous ways in which we, as humans, can get in touch with a beautiful, raw, simplicity of walking the Jesus path by volunteering for uncomfortable situations.
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