Yet, after about a month, our time in Colombia sadly had to come to an end. As our team made plans to leave for Ecuador, one of the girls, Natalie, realized that her visa expired before the rest of the team, which meant that if she didn’t leave for Ecuador by the coming Sunday, she would be breaking the law. The team was not prepared to leave until later in the week, but Natalie could be heavily fined for overstaying her allotted time, so she needed to cross the border ahead of the rest of the team. Meanwhile, our teammate Rose had travelled to England for a wedding, and her return ticket had flown her into Quito. She had been waiting in Ecuador for days, and I felt uneasy about leaving her stranded in a new country without the team. My friend Liz also felt an urgency to join up with Rose, so she, Natalie, and I began researching ways to get to Quito early. After going in circles for a bit, it seemed our only viable option was an expensive and long bus ride. I was hesitant to take the bus, since my only other third-world bus experiences were nothing short of a nightmare. Yet, we needed to get to Quito, so I started packing for the bus ride nevertheless.
Midway through rearranging all of my clothes, Natalie approached me and said Taylor L. (one of our teammates who has been driving his own Buick from home throughout the journey) might be willing to drive his car across the border early with us girls and his buddy Taylor M. The five of us gathered and discussed whether it was wise to take a single vehicle across the border. We knew it would be risky to drive without our normal convoy, because if there were any car problems, we wouldn’t have extra vehicles to fall back on. However, Taylor’s car had been one of the most dependable throughout the journey, and the chances of something going wrong seemed unlikely with the car’s history. We decided to take the risk and drive to Quito together Sunday morning. Natalie needed to make it across the border by that evening, which meant a crack-of-dawn departure. The five of us prayed for safe and peaceful travels and left Colombia at four a.m. on Sunday morning.
The journey began smoothly—decent roads, no traffic, and an efficiently running vehicle. Liz took the wheel, and both Taylors and I began to fall asleep in the back of the car. I was woken up by an odd noise coming from the car’s engine and Liz’s voice trying to wake Taylor L. “Taylor...Taylor…are you awake? Something doesn’t feel right with your car.”
The car began to jerk and make a horrible noise as Liz pulled over to the side of the road. Taylor woke up and looked under the hood to see what had gone wrong. We tried turning the car off and restarting it, but the engine wouldn’t turn back on. After fiddling with the car for a bit, the guys said it would be best to find a mechanic. Taylor M., Liz, and I stayed with the car while Taylor L. and Natalie walked up the street to find help. Moments later, a convoy of police arrived at the Buick. The men had huge rifles and asked us what was wrong while pointing their guns at our vehicle. Liz offered them Ritz crackers in the hopes that a snack would deter them from shooting us. They noticed the Texas license plate on Taylor’s car and asked how long we had been driving. When we explained that we were traveling throughout all of Latin America and had been driving for almost five months, they laughed in surprise. I asked them if they knew anything about cars, and they shook their heads. It seemed the only thing they knew about was carrying guns and staring at white people.
After waiting quite a while, Taylor and Natalie appeared in the distance, riding on the back of two men’s motorbikes. They had found a few mechanics and hitched a ride with them back to the car. Three men examined the Buick and explained that the gas pump was broken and needed to be replaced. They had no spares at their shop and insisted the only way we could get one was to hitchhike an hour backwards and hope they had some in the nearest city. The next major city in the direction we wanted to be going was four hours away, and we wouldn’t make it. The men advised us to backtrack, spend the night in the city, and wait there while a mechanic fixed the Buick. We had only been driving for a few hours, and the thought of backtracking for an hour and spending money on a hotel seemed quite a waste. We refused to accept this as our only option and prayed that God would somehow miraculously remedy our situation and make a way where there was no way. Soon after, the men looking at the car changed their story and said they thought our gas gauge had simply broken; and though we’d thought the car was full of gas, the tank was empty. They believed if we filled the car with gas, we’d be fine. One of the men drove back to his home to get us a couple bottles of gas and dumped them into the Buick. Sure enough, after the tank was filled the car started properly. The mechanic said he still thought something with the pump was a bit off, but we should be able to make it to Quito without any more problems and get it looked at again after we arrived at our final destination. Relieved that we hadn’t agreed to hitchhike backwards, we drove onward.
The rest of our drive went smoothly, and we reached the Ecuadorian border around 7:30 p.m. This was the first border we’d crossed in the dark, and though we’d been advised against it, crossing at night turned out to be a blessing. There were virtually no lines, and Natalie got her passport stamped before getting fined. If we hadn’t left so early, we wouldn’t have made it.
After completing our paperwork on the Colombian side of the border, we crossed to the Ecuadorian side to register Taylor’s car and get our entrance stamps. There, we met a woman named Marta, a sweet and enthusiastic border official who handled the car paperwork. When she encountered us five, she eagerly embraced the opportunity to practice her English. Though she was far from fluent, she made a valiant effort, and when we told her that we could understand what she was trying to say, she lit up with excitement. Natalie, Taylor M., and Liz went outside for a moment while Taylor L. and I talked to Marta inside her office. Taylor asked if we could pray for her, and though Marta was not a Christian, she said she’d like to receive prayer. While Taylor prayed, God showed him that He was going to start speaking to Marta in dreams. Taylor told Marta, and she shared that she’d actually already had a very special dream that she believed was from the Lord. However, she didn’t know what it meant.
In the dream, Marta knew it was the end of the world, and she was standing with a few men around her. She felt scared. Marta saw a light coming from heaven with fingers reaching down. Suddenly, a tsunami came from behind her and rushed around her but didn’t touch her. When the tsunami missed her, she saw a man and no longer felt scared. He reached out to her and said, “You have been given an opportunity.” Then, God began to sing over her. After explaining the whole dream, Marta looked at Taylor and I and asked if we thought it meant anything. My jaw almost dropped to the floor as I nodded “yes”. We both spoke to her and explained how God had chosen her and had amazing plans for her life. He was speaking to Marta in a dramatic and special way. Taylor M., Natalie, and Liz came into the room mid-conversation, and we shared the dream with them. They were amazed at how God was speaking to Marta as well, and each shared words of encouragement with her. Liz said she could see angels on both sides of Marta traveling with her always. Marta’s face lit up as she asked, “With me? Always? Really??” She explained that she wanted to know God more but had never really felt His presence. We told Marta that she did have the ability to feel God and that the Holy Spirit would encounter her if she wanted Him to. We prayed for her a second time, and she accepted Christ into her heart, tears welling up in her eyes. After spending an extra thirty minutes or so at the border, we told Marta we needed to drive on. We explained that our teammates would be crossing the border in a couple days, and maybe she would meet them soon. We hugged and kissed Marta goodbye as she wept with joy.
All five of us realized that if we hadn’t broken down for the three hours previously, we would have missed Marta at the border. Even if she had been working earlier, it would have been too busy during the day to take the time to speak to her. Since we arrived in the evening, the border was empty, and we had the freedom to spend time with Marta. I felt so honored and overwhelmed that the Lord had chosen us five to be a part of welcoming this beautiful woman into the kingdom of God.
It was much later than we’d planned for, so we decided to look for a cheap hotel to spend the night and continue on to Quito in the morning. We prayed specifically for a hotel that had hot showers, warm beds, wifi, and breakfast available. We also told God that we only wanted to spend ten dollars each. We asked several locals where we could find a cheap hotel and went in circles for quite a while. After we were about ready to give up, we arrived at a small hostel that looked closed. All the windows were boarded up, but Natalie got out of the car and persistently banged on the door until a small Ecuadorian woman answered. She said there were two rooms available for us, each with three warm beds for just ten dollars apiece. When we found out there was wifi, hot showers, and breakfast as well, we knew God had answered our prayers. We snuggled into our cozy beds, thankful for a chance to rest, thankful we’d made it across the border in time, and thankful for our divine appointment with Marta. Despite hitting roadblocks along the way, everything worked together for good. This was a beautiful start to our time in Ecuador. There’s much more to come, so check back for more updates soon. J
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