International travel today, while still exciting and scattered with various hazards, is not what it was in the mid 80's. During the 80's both Mexico and Central America were dealing with civil unrest and guerrilla warfare was a daily reality. The mountains were littered with tiny guerrilla camps whose entrances were easily mistaken for the poorly signed and maintained roadways. Even major roadways were typically two lane pot holed nightmares with little or no signage. On top of those hazards many maps during those days were missing roads between smaller towns making it far too easy to lose your way.
In the early years of our travels my father spoke no Spanish and my mother precious little, which meant making our way through the country was as much a mastery of Spanish Sign Language as it was the ability to read maps and road signs. I have no doubt it is a miracle we did not drive off the edge of some unmarked cliff somewhere. What did happen, many times over, is we often became lost and had to back track to the nearest village where my mother would use her blend of Spanish and simple Sign Language to glean some idea of where we went wrong and where to go next. Typically the answer was, "Aya" (over there) accompanied by the amazingly unhelpful lip purse.
Those who have ever seen me give the lip purse will know automatically what I am talking about, but for those of you who are unfamiliar here is a visual example for you. If you would please purse your lips into almost a pucker, now point those puckered lips in any given direction...that's it. That is the Latin American lip purse, and it is given as the answer to any question involving directions. "Where is the central park?", you ask a gentleman waiting for a bus, "Aya", he replies with pursed lips pointing somewhere behind you. Needless to say, my family became very skilled at reading lip directions.
I don't know if it was our first or second trip to Honduras, I was somewhere between 4-6yrs old, but I do remember we were in the Chiapas region of southern Mexico. The area borders Guatemala and is very mountainous. I know that during that particular time period the Zapatistas, a guerrilla group creating civil unrest in the area, were very active and had kidnapped a few missionary couples who had been held for ransom. There was not any open fighting between the Zapatistas and the local or national government at the time, however several small scrimmages had been known to have occurred. We were heading through the Chiapas region toward Guatemala and, as usual, we became lost. I don't know how late it was at night, but it was well past sundown. I believe my parents were attempting to get to the nearest large town to stay the night when we became turned around. My brothers and I were all bedded down in the van and I was lying on the bench seat directly behind my parents. I remember I was staring out at the trees and stars in the sky as we bumped along the back roads.
We came to a small village where my parents got directions back to the 'main road'. Several minutes after heading back out I heard my parents discussing our location. My father did not think the man had given us the right directions and they were deciding whether to keep going or turn around again. As they debated the pros and cons I began to fade into sleep and did not realize we had come to a check point. Check points were very common and frequent in every Latin American country during that time period, however we were in the middle of nowhere in the mountains. The military had no reason to put a check point on a tiny road that did not even connect to a large town.
In my half sleep I felt the car had stopped moving and I struggled through my tired stupor to open my eyes. When I did I found I was looking up at the stern face of a man in full military garb. He was wearing a ballistic helmet and had a rifle strapped to his shoulder. His eyes were hard and calculating as he met my gaze. I looked up at him and stared straight into those large brown eyes. I remember the rifle was startling and scary but I wanted somehow to make him know I was glad to see him. I gave him my biggest smile and waved hello, all the while staring straight into his eyes. His lips faintly curled into a smile of his own as his eyes became softer and his hand waved hello in response. Slowly he turned toward my father's window and began speaking. He gave my parents perfect directions back to the main road where we were able to move on to our final destination for the night.
It was not until years later that I learned how terrified my parents had been that night. How we were not at a sanctioned military check point, but at the check point for a guerrilla camp. It was not until I became an adult that I fully comprehended how much potential danger we were in and how our lives were literally in the hands of that one man. I tease my parents sometimes and tell them that I single-handedly saved our lives by smiling and waving at that very moment and in a sense I do believe that is true, however as I had no knowledge of it I can't really take any glory for it. What amazes me about that night is how God can use the perfect beauty and innocence of a child to soften the hearts of men. How one simple gesture of love and friendliness can change the course of time and events.
Mostly though, it is a testimony to me that no matter where we are or what circumstances we may be in, the Lord knows and is in full control. He is faithful to keep His promises. Promises to protect and watch over His children wherever they may be.
