Yesterday's story reminded me of another experience we had with a building team.
We had to leave Bujumbura at the crack of dawn to get to work site about an hour and a half away. We instructed the team members to eat a smaller breakfast because of the windy, bumpy roads that we would be traveling at breakneck speeds because of the military's curfew.
We had snacks lined up throughout the day and often the pastor would serve us a small meal over lunch. One particular member of the team was very well proportioned and felt that a light breakfast would never hold him. Rather than following instructions he ate several plates full commenting how full he felt when we finally hit the road. He decided to ride up front with me in my pick up truck because his tummy was already rumbling.
Zooooom! I hit the accelerator and we took off heading as fast as we could to Rumonge. Three other passengers sat in the back seat of my pickup truck. About 20 minutes down the road this dear brother began to complain how upset his stomach felt. I had compassion on the guy, but not a whole lot if you know what I mean. I slowed slightly, but with all the swerving to miss potholes, goats, and other vehicles it didn't really reduce his motion sickness. A few minutes later he started moaning.
"Oh please! Stop! I'm not feeling well." Reluctantly, I slowed the vehicle almost to a crawl hoping that would settle his stomach.
More moaning. "No please. Stop the car!"
I hit the brakes bringing our construction team to a complete halt. He reached for the passenger door to fling it open. No more than 2 seconds later breakfast returned for a visit. He hurled all over the door, the ground, himself, you name it. I'm kind of squeamish myself so I tried not to look. The stench, however, was horrendous. And I mean horrendous. Being the kind-hearted missionary that I am, I noticed his heaving had stopped so I asked him to close his door so we could continue. He just about succeeded before the vomiting returned for a second bout. Gross! I mean really gross! His face was ashen white.
After a good while he finally calmed and motioned that we could continue. Zooooom! Off we went again.
No more than 5 minutes later he starts moaning and whimpering again. "Please stop the car!"
Repeat of the complimentary breakfast visit. By now the stench was so bad that people in the back seat were moaning and complaining that their stomachs were hurting.
Off we went again much more docile and smooth this time. I drove slowly trying to avert a catastrophe in the back seat.
Our dear brother starts moaning again: "Oh please stop the car."
"Again?" I asked incredulous. I had witnessed how much had already come out. And I couldn't believe that anything was left.
"You didn't see how much he ate for breakfast," someone in the back seat commented.
As I came to a stop, he popped his head out again baptizing more Burundian countryside with breakfast.
All the passengers in the back seat started complaining that they too were going to loose breakfast after witnessing the third round. Yuck!
We were now quite delayed. We had the tools in the bed of the pick up. The rest of the team had proceeded us on the bus and would be wondering where we were as they would be unable to start work. So I made an executive decision. Everyone would roll down their windows as far as possible to air out the vehicle and grab plastic bags. We would have to do this like the airlines. Air Burundi flight # K.U.E.R.T was about to take off again.
Fortunately, we were only about twenty minutes from the worksite and everyone was able to hold their breakfast at bay. Although, when we arrived just about everyone had an ashen white face including myself. The vehicle reeked for several days. The other team members stared at us in disbelief. "What in the world happened to you?" they asked. And it took a good 15 minutes before I could even walk straight.
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