Dying On The Nile

This past January I began an 11 month journey that would take me to 11 different countries, spending a month in each place. My team and I started in Uganda, The Pearl of Africa. The majority of the month was spent in training and preparation to go out onto the field. At the end of the month, our leaders surprised us with a weekend trip to Jinja, Uganda, to camp next to The Nile River. Here we would be able to rest a little before we moved to our next country. Within the first hour of being there, the manager of the campground informed us that they also offer guided white rafting trips on The Nile. The majority of my team, myself included, jumped at the opportunity and signed up to go the following morning.

The next morning I woke up excited and rushed to the agreed spot to hit the water. We got in our rafting groups, got our guide, geared up, and headed towards the water. As soon as the big, beautiful Nile came into view I suddenly remembered something; I'm terrified of water. I don't mind swimming pools or shallow creeks and I can swim just fine, but you'll never catch me too far off shore at the beach and you sure as heck wont catch me out in deep water. But there was no turning back at this point. I was fully committed. So I hopped in the raft and introduced myself to our guide. I don't remember his actual name, but he told us to call him Yolo. This name, I would soon learn, suited him very well. 

Yolo could sense my fear. And with that, I became his target for the brief training he ran us through before we hit the rapids. He instructed me to jump in the water. As soon as I was done splashing in and could hear his instructions, he said, "Careful not to splash too much. You don't want to attract any crocodiles." Naturally, this made me start thrashing around even more as I tried to haul myself back into the raft. Yolo merely chuckled as he grabbed my life vest and yanked me back into temporary safety. "Just kidding," he said, "there aren't any crocs here." I wasn't laughing.  A few more training lessons, a few more jokes, and we set off for the rapids. 

I wasn't sure what to expect. I had never been white water rafting before. In my head I compared it closer to a leisurely float trip. My image was quickly corrected when the first rapid came into view. Yolo explained to us the first rapid we would hit was a class 4 and that we would most likely tip. As soon as he said this I gave him my best mean mug and sternly instructed him to not let us flip. He just laughed. 

As soon as we hit the first wave all I could see was the opposite side of the raft going higher, higher, higher until it was completely over my head and I was thrown into the water. I immediately made the biggest mistake a person can make; I panicked. I hadn't mentally prepared to actually flip and be in the water and had never been in water this powerful before. I began swimming, which we had just learned in training to not do. Instead of swimming up I was probably swimming down, mixed up in the panic and confusion. What were just seconds felt like minutes. 

There have been plenty of times in my life where I've thought, "Shoot, this is really going to hurt", but this is the first time I've thought, "I'm dying. This is how I'm going to die." In the storm of my panic it clicked what I was doing and the training came back to me. I quit fighting the current and allowed my life vest to do it's job. Almost immediately I was thrust to the surface where I took the biggest gasp of air I could grab. I quickly looked around, counting heads to make sure all of my friends were there. They were. After I was hauled back into the raft, I must admit, I began tearing up. That was the most terrifying experience of my life, and the experience had just begun. I didn't want to keep going, I was tapping out. But I didn't have any time to voice this because Yolo was instructing us to prepare for the next rapid. Another class 4. Nope. No Way. Well...it was going to happen. So I did the only thing I knew to do, I prayed. I prayed hard. I asked God to not let us tip, to keep me out of the water. In the middle of my prayer I heard God say to not fear, we weren't going to tip. My anxiety made doubt creep in and I braced for the waves. 

As we hit, we made it successfully over the first minor wave. Then I saw the next one. It was significantly bigger than the one that threw us on the first rapid. I begged God to not let us tip. Once again I watched helplessly as the opposite side of the raft went higher, higher, higher, until I felt like we were perfectly side ways. And then it wasn't. With a hard crash we landed on the other side of the wave, rattled but still in the raft. I gave the loudest warrior cry I've ever given! God provided and His promise was true!! Praise! We had a little while before the next rapid and my team and I marveled at God's answered prayer and provision. My fear and anxiety was gone. I knew then that whether or not we flipped, God was watching over and protecting us. I was ready for the next rapid. 

Sure enough, on the third rapid we flipped back into the water. This time I didn't panic. I let the water and my vest do it's thing. The river carried me far downstream before giving me relief above surface, but I came up with a smile, knowing I was going to be okay. As one of the rescue kayaks came to pick me up, he must of thought I had hit my head because I began laughing and couldn't stop grinning at him. My team hauled my butt back into the raft and I explained to them I died on that third rapid. I died to a fear and it didn't overcome me. I overcame it. With the help of my God. 

It turned out that Yolo had been tipping and flipping us on purpose. At one point we realized we were the only raft of the 3 on the trip that ended up in the water the majority of the time, 4 of the 6 rapids to be exact. Yolo denied this but he couldn't deny it once we looked back at the pictures and videos the guiding staff had taken from the river banks. In one particular picture you can clearly see Yolo giving the camera a peace sign as he's pulling the rope the opposite way it should go if you wanted to stay in the raft. As tempted as I was to be mad at him, I was thankful. I was thankful because a fear of mine was conquered and dead. 

Don't get me wrong, I don't see myself signing up for any white water rafting trips any time soon. But I know if I ever did find myself in a heavy current, my God would be there with me.