The crisp, fiery oranges and reds cut through the cool autumn morning. The sharp colors blended into the flow of the morning air, which carried the fragrance of a hot cup of spiced tea. A faint strumming could be heard as friends, close friends, enjoyed each other’s company. There was a calming ‘drip, drip’ of mysterious potions slipping off maturing leaves into distant mounds of foliage, but it all began to fade into the background. It didn’t just fade, it disappeared. It wasn’t real. I woke up.
It wasn’t tastefully chilly; it was ridiculously hot. In fact, “hot” should not be used for whatever it was that I was experiencing that day. It was boiling. I felt like I was boiling. Incidentally, it wasn’t just from the hot São Paulo day, but it mainly came from an embarrassing rise in urgency. You see, I was not supposed to be in São Paulo: I wasn’t even supposed to be in Brazil! Two days prior, my flight out of the country had left without me, along with any feelings of peace I might have had.
Two days earlier, I had been embodying stress itself. For context, I had been on the Language Department’s South America Study Tour, and the group was about to make its way back to the United States without me. But that had always been the plan! I was always planning to part from the group to travel to Colombia and volunteer at a wonderful NGO I had heard about. However, I discovered something detrimental to my plan: I needed an International Certificate of Vaccination for Yellow Fever to enter Colombia from Brazil. As you may have guessed, I did not have it.
As it was the last minute, my friends and classmates on the Study Tour had to leave without me, and I would have to figure this situation out myself. I waved friends goodbye as they left to board their plane to the U.S., and I stayed behind, trying my best to hang on to quickly diminishing shreds of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that the authorities or customs agents would understand my predicament and help me. After hours of waiting, they gave me their answer. No.
What do I do now? I frantically tried to message my dad for advice, but my phone stopped working. Who could I ask for help? Not only do I not know Portuguese, but I happened to be in a part of Brazil where almost nobody spoke either English or Spanish, and it was now the middle of the night. Now, truly feeling the helplessness of the situation, I changed my orientation towards the One who could help me.
With renewed strength, I pushed on with a broken “Portunhol” (a mix between Spanish and Portuguese) reinforced with Portuguese words I had looked up. I then spent the entire night asking different people for assistance and researching all the logistics I would need. My stay in the city would last nine days- the time I had to stay in the area as my vaccination certificate was being certified- and I had to prepare. After a sleepless night, a lot of pacing, and a few technical errands to run, I finally ended up at the place I would be staying in the city the next day at noon. Despite not having slept, I couldn’t let the opportunity pass to explore part of the beautiful city I found myself in. But, I eventually let my drowsiness get the best of me and drifted to sleep.
These events bring us to the present, the Sabbath when I woke up to the confirmation that I was still in Brazil, and still all alone. This was accompanied by the realization that I hadn’t eaten since Thursday. It was alright, and Someone had thought ahead of all of that. I managed to get dressed and found a nearby church to attend, hoping to feel some semblance of normalcy for the day. I arrived and soon found that just about all of the wonderful church members only spoke Portuguese, but I was able to understand enough to know that this church did something very different than I was used to. This “something” changed my whole day and reminded me that, even in the smallest of ways, I was not alone. This church had its fellowship meal right after Sabbath School and before the church service started! Before the service even began, I was fed and made to feel like I was at home.
Not only that, I was also asked if there was anything they could do to help me since I had just arrived with no friends or family. Not a moment passed before I was whisked to the kitchen as a church member task-force filled a soon-to-be heavy bag with all the food I could ever need. I may have been far from home, but I was never far from the One who sees me.
This school year has begun, and some of us find ourselves far from home and the security it offers. You are not alone. Not only is there a family of students who understand, but there is also a God who cares and is watching over you. The Michigan weather may not be what you want, the food may not be what you are used to, and you may only know a few people who speak your first language. However, in everything, I would encourage you to turn to Genesis 16:13 as a reminder that our God is a God who sees you and will take care of you.
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.