One Step Closer

Tonight my husband walked in on me finally unpacking my bag. He was delighted. I was almost in tears. We have been without some key pieces of furniture in our bedroom (still are in fact), but we just gave the dresser a much needed make over. Now that that process is complete I can fill it’s empty drawers with the remnants that have been lurking in my suitcase these last 7 weeks. Yes, I almost cried. Not sure why. There is some gravity and finality to it. Also, I have been used to living out of this valise for almost a full year now. It has been my constant companion, filling my daily clothing needs. It is kind of like saying good-bye to an old friend. I realize this sounds sentimental, but that is my insane reality right now. My strangeness. 

The most unexpected things can still move me rapidly to the brink of tears. Making lemon bars again and realizing the last time I cooked them was in Uganda. That Margaret would faithfully juice the lemons for me. I miss her tooooo much (as a true Ugandan would say).  And the craziest thoughts still flit through my head. Like when my dog ran barking to the fence, startling and perturbing a passing neighbor who was walking his dog. Bjorn is all rough sounding bark and absolutely no bite. You are in more danger of him licking you raw than him ever actually attacking you. But I thought, “Oh no, I hope that neighbor doesn’t come back and throw a poisoned fish over the fence”. Again, such was part of our reality half way around the world. It took me a second to remember we are in the United States now. Those things don’t happen here. At least not regularly. 

So, I am one step closer to being reluctantly settled. Continuing our adventure here instead of abroad. Searching for ways to satiate the hunger for newness, foreign culture, and excitement. We’ve got some ideas. We’ll see how they unfold. Hopefully they will satisfy the cravings until we (God willing) head back to Nicaragua next June. 

-Dione

Pedicures & Life’s Mysteries

I’ve made it almost a full year without a pedicure. I remember when I got my last one vividly because it was the day before (or was it the day of? Ok, maybe not so vividly) my sister-in-law got married. It was a big to do and so much fun to all go and get done up before the wedding. Then we left on our year long adventure a few days later. Just in case you are wondering, a Nordstrom pedicure is pretty long lasting, even in a place like Nicaragua. I think I kicked the last of the nail polish off about 6 weeks later. 

Anyway, I find it both ironic and amusing that while we were gone the girls and I talked all the time about going and getting a pedicure once we got home. Something to look forward to. But we have been here for a month and a half now and still haven’t indulged. There are reasons for this. I promptly sprained one of my toes quite badly, on my “gimpy foot” (as I like to call my Egyptian sprained foot), right when we got back. Tay keeps accidentally cracking or ripping bits of toenail off, on a step here and a rock there. At first it just seemed like a strange idea, even though we could. Now, barring any further injuries, I think it is time.

Home is feeling more familiar. This adjustment is tiring. Really we are all tired all the time, except for Troy. I’m not sure how he avoids it. I don’t really understand where the tiredness comes from. I guess it is just exhausting trying to figure out how we, as people who have grown and changed, come home and fit in to this familiar yet new place. Yet we aren’t trying. There is no effort being made. Just exhaustion as a result.

Truly, this culture has been the most shocking. Ok, well maybe not as shocking as Egypt. Granted. Now our adventure feels as though it was a dream. Like it existed, like it transformed us forever. But sometimes I have to check myself. Did that really happen? Did we really meet those people? Explore those places? Call that place home? Thank God I have the pictures to prove it to myself. I feel like we are living in the in between. Knowing this is what we did this last year, feeling it every day, and yet home now. Did we ever leave? How can something so profound, something that has transformed us for forever feel so far away? Maybe one day it will all make sense. But I have a feeling it won’t. It will continue to be one of life’s mysteries. I guess I am ok with that. I think I might just have to be. 

-Dione

Update on Juan

For those of you following our journey, you may remember our friend Juan in Nicaragua.  He has a severe infection in the bone of his leg from a childhood surgery.  He has a joyful contagious attitude toward life; full of thanksgiving while struggling in daily life.

God directed us along with some friends in Granada, Nicaragua to do something to help.  It’s really been us who have been blessed to know Juan.  It’s been about 8 months of trying to get approval and a timeslot to get an operation done to clean things up in his leg.  He is so close as his operation may now happen tomorrow.  Please pray with us that all goes well and God smiles on Juan to provide a way for healing.

Here is an email we received this morning from Frank who is helping coordinate things for Juan:

I had to share this with you guys because I knew you would find it amusing.

Last week I took Juan to the hospital (again) and they finally took him in to start the “process” of his surgery. He’s been hooked up to antibiotics for a couple of days and they are ready to operate. Great news!? So the first I hear about this great news is in the form of a text message that reads:

“Hello, this is dr cuadra from lenin fonseca, we need some things for juan’s surgery, a liquid called SOLETE, can be bought at ORTOMED in BELLO HORIZONTE, and two drill bits with diamond tip for concrete, can be found in any hardware store, please call me if doubts”

And they wanted me to bring all of this the same day so they could operate on him yesterday. There’s so much going on there but did you say you need me to bring drill bits?  :)

Needless to say I’m up at 5:30am about to Managua with Milton to buy this stuff so that Juan can FINALLY have the surgery he deserves. GO NICA!

May those around him see God at work in his life and give Him glory.

-Troy

The Transition Continues

Today I tried to light our stove…again. I didn’t even think about it. I know old habits die hard. I was shocked as the flames jumped up before I even lit the match. Oh yeah. We are home. Target used to be one of my favorite places on the planet. Now I just want to get in and get out. I’m in a foul mood the whole time and leave utterly exhausted. I peeked in an In-Style (which used to be my favorite magazine. I bought it only as a treat for myself once in a while) in the orthodontist’s office last week and only got about 5 pages in. So much excess. Who really cares about this stuff. None of it is bad. Just different. I’m different. 

Troy and I were discussing it the other day and he said something so profound. So many people comment on what a life changing experience our year must have been. But what he realized is that it wasn’t so much life changing or transforming as it was living. On this trip we felt like we were living. Living church. Living life in a new and very real way. Living life in the way it should be lived. This place doesn’t feel half as real as everywhere else this last year. 

Thanks for your patience as we navigate this transition. I know we are in God’s hands. And thanks be to Him because I’m not sure how we’d be able to navigate it without Him. Please pray for us as, one friend succinctly put it, we swim in the strangeness. 

Blessings, 

Dione

Re-Entry

I know. We haven’t written anything in a while. We have been back in the States for two weeks and back in Costa Mesa for one week now. It is really tough trying to negotiate this “new” place. This place that seems familiar and yet feels totally foreign. It felt so normal to melt into and live in a third word country and culture. To walk everywhere. To live without. To take time to greet neighbors. It felt so normal to travel and live out of 5 bags moving from amazing place to place to place. I guess we can call this phenomenon culture shock. I have no idea how long it will last or how to even describe it, except for that I feel an overwhelming numbness. Like a deer in the headlights; completely dazed all the time. Like I’ve taken too much cold medicine.

In the midst of this adjustment, we are setting our house up again. The house we have lived in for 13 years. It feels like a re-settling. Like a fresh start in the same place. We love our house. But is is definitely feeling small. Many more items are getting stowed into give-away boxes as we unpack. Some of my clothes were even more worn out than the ones that were on my back for almost a year. Why did we hold onto this stuff? We are seeing it all with new eyes all over again. The purging continues.

Of course, we think of the places and people abroad that are beloved to us, all the time. So deeply, that a lot of the time I am close to tears (especially when I think of the ones I love and miss in Uganda). This morning I started looking into plane tickets for next summer, back to Nicaragua. It felt very strange to click “roundtrip” instead of “one-way”. Of course there are no valid fares. But it still satiated my need. It was good to look. It is a blessing to have some friends here that understand. That have lived abroad or have even traveled for a month or more. They empathize. They get it. They are a safe place for us right now. We can be heard and understood, even a little, as we negotiate this new feeling in our “normal” culture. It helps. 

Love and blessings to all, 

Dione

Home

Severe culture shock (except for Caleb who is so excited to be reunited with the old and familiar.) Our home…vaguely homelike. Dear friends and family we love. Christmas cards in July. Bjorn again. No Internet (modem died a couple days before we got here). Washer blew up. Need new couches…won’t be in for 6-8 weeks. Good thing we have practice in “living without” and “waiting”. Memories of people and places so dear to us constantly run through my mind like an endless movie. Over and over again. Strange dreams. Processing. In transition.

-Dione

We are coming home! I miss…

…the smell of the heat that radiates off the fields of golden grass in the foothills before we ascend the mountain to Hume and the smell of pine mixed with manzanita.

…the salty fog tinged air at our home in the evenings that sofly kisses my face.

…long road trips.

…the warm and comforting “clean” smell of clothes pulled from the dryer even if they burn my fingers.

…how wood smoke perfumes the air.

…the feeling of Christmas.

…how crazily Bjorn (our chocolate lab) attacks me in the morning when he sees me because he is so happy I am up and “tucking” him into “bed” at night.

…the mournful blowing of the fog horn in Bandon, the wind, and wandering the beach, dressed cozily.

…bar-b-q-ing in summer.

…our house (and yard) filled with the happy chatting of friends for dinner on a Sunday.

…coming home exhausted, sandy, sun warmed, salt crusted and satisfied from a day at the beach.

…camping in our Airstream.

…my perfect and favorite antique peridot wedding ring.

…roasting marshmallows or camper sandwiches in our huge fire place or just leaning back, taking in the radiating heat and observing the dancing flames. 

Soon. It will all be part of my reality again soon. I can’t wait!

-Dione

WHY?

So, I was up at 4:30 this morning. Too early again. No matter how tired we are, none of us can sleep past 6 in the morning. It is very bothersome, especially since Tay and I are sick (with only colds mind you, nothing unmanageable).

My mind is reeling right now. Strange dreams about being home. Disorienting. Disoriented. My brain is attempting to process without me and it feels very strange. It feels crazy when I am conscious as well. So much to get used to. So much I don’t want to get used to. Some things I want to accept and others I don’t want to integrate back into my life. And it isn’t as much “not letting back into my life” as it is holding on to things I have learned and love. Things I want to keep as a part of me and my life, even though those things don’t exist in our culture.

Example: it started in Ethiopia, coffee in ceramic cups…always…everywhere. No need to hurry. No need for paper cups. Everyone can take the time to enjoy a cup of coffee without rushing somewhere. In Italy this was magnified even more. It is part of the culture to take your time. Enjoy! Have a chat with friends in a cafe. Even if it is for ten minutes. No rushing. Many many times a day. Always ceramic.

So yesterday Troy and I walked into a Starbucks (a thing hard enough for us to do under normal circumstances. Let’s just say, we aren’t fans). We tried to order machiattos. The girl behind the counter is confused. Caramel machiatto? No. Just an espresso machiatto. The look on her face. Confused comprehension. Why would we want that? Before we can catch her, she is already writing on our paper cups. Shoot! We wanted ceramic. We wanted to sit and enjoy. We still want to take our time, even though we are back in this hurried racing place. I hope we can hold onto it. I hope we can keep this “souvenir” from our travel. Ceramic next time. Hopefully ceramic most of the time. Even here.

-Dione

The End

I haven’t posted anything on the blog for this trip, but I really think you should know this. Before this trip began I wanted it to be over, but now I think it’s simply the best thing that happened to me in my entire life. Before I went on the trip I didn’t have a very strong bond with God. I basicly only thought of Him when I went to church and when we had conversations about Him. But in Nicaragua, and even a bit in Costa Rica, I was realizing that the sins I did were sins that I needed to confess. That I needed Him. Now I have a closer bond with God, and I have a powerful feeling inside for Him. Not happiness, it is too strong and peaceful to be called happiness. Not greed, otherwise my bond would be hanging only by a thread. No, this feeling is love. The only way to describe His passion for us is love. Now I feel a swelling and growing passion for Him.

Now, about the trip. I was thinking up an idea for a good James Bond movie when I felt a jerk, and the brakes, the signs of the end of the flight. I looked out the window and we were on the ground. My heart sank and jetted up all at once: like a lightning bolt. Unstoppable. I thought some more and then my brain said, “This is the end of our life time adventure.” This trip has been a comedy, a tragedy, but mainly and eye opener. To people, their lives, and to God. As I type, the time is 6:31am, two sisters sleep in front of me, and my parents are in the next room. I’m the only one awake in this apartment, as a fire truck goes by, and I’m writing this post.

Thank you for your prayers,

Caleb

The End

Stuff You Don’t Know Because I Haven’t Told You Yet

(aka the “bits and pieces” blog post comprised of blogs too short to stand on their own)

Our kids were introduced to American Idol, MTV Cribs, Pimp My Ride, and the Oprah show in Ethiopia since one of us was sick most of the time we were there. That and they memorized Arabic TV commercials. Scary.

I once saw a goat surfing on a bus, not even tied down, in Ethiopia. No joke.

The best germ killing cleaners are Protex and Clorox wipes (which just arrived while we were there) in Nicaragua; Dettol in Egypt, Ethiopia, and Uganda and Radox also in Uganda…just in case you are wondering.

Rome smells of jasmine at the end of May.

It took me a good 2 weeks, in Italy, to feel comfortable putting my face in the stream of the shower and to open my mouth, even though I knew it was safe. Old habits (especially ones that keep you from getting the runs) die hard.

When our shoes get dirty (say, on a camping trip) I throw them into the washing machine. In Uganda, Margaret would go out and lovingly scrub the gluey orange mud off of all our shoes. At first, I had no idea she was doing it until I came upon all of our shoes, looking brand new (like out of the box) and organized in the entryway. That was a humbling day and a day full of appreciation.

The whole milk fat content in Italy is 3.6%. At home, it is 3%. No wonder I can’t find cream for my coffee. Apparently everyone is well fed here…even the cattle.

Italy was especially a treat because we had gotten used to not having food on hand in some places OR (especially in the hot climates) eating food that was on the verge of going bad…a large amount of the time. So food on every block fresh from someone’s garden or farm that day made our new reality that much sweeter….pretty much heaven actually.

I miss barking geckos in Nicaragua.

In Italy, we used the bidet, but only for washing our filthy feet. So uncultured!

Even though I am loving and appreciating Italy immensely, my mind wanders back to Nicaragua and Uganda often.

In Uganda, when we were volunteering with Spring of Hope a woman started asking me about Caleb, “How old is he? Is he healthy? Was he breast fed? For how long? 18 months!!! Wow! I had no idea muzungu women could breastfeed for that long…I have a girl I’d like him to marry. Can we arrange a marriage?” who knew breast feeding was such a deal maker? (NOT me). Caleb fled in fear by the way. Justifiably so.

As a rule, one must do as the Italians do and stop for cafe or macchiatto ever 3-4 hours.

Most of my clothes won’t go to Goodwill. They will go straight into the trash can. Because there is no other reasonable option. RIP.

It is so strange to watch our supplies, the ones I painstakingly collected and that we have laboriously toted and used on our long journey dwindle down to nothingness. It carries a sense of satisfaction and yet also a dreaded finality with it.

6/17/10 I can’t readily remember the last time I had a washer AND a dryer. (after many moments of consideration) Oh yeah, in Uganda, almost 2 months ago. The last time I could use a dryer without worrying about how much energy it was using and how that would effect our electricy bill….hmmm, early September 2009.

HATED being stuck in a petite zippy car (great for gas mileage) while driving around Italy for a month, children stuffed into small back seat. Indicator of how bad it got…”mom, she is breathing on me!”. Pretty much says it all right there…

Italy has the fattest dogs I have ever seen.

What I wouldn’t do for a shower poof or any variety of exfoliation tool these days. Or a shower I could turn around in. Or a bath. And I’m in Italy for goodness sake!

Just in case you ever get to go to Italy, our favorite places to eat were: Any Vera Pizza place in Napoli, but especially Pizzaria Sorbillo. Il Latini in Florence and La Lanterna in Riomaggiore, Cinque Terre.

Paris’ metro system is by far the easiest to use and most efficient system we have enjoyed on our whole trip. Very impressive and fabulous.

France really does have the best bread, butter, and pastries on the planet. I know, no great surprise. I am simply confirming this commonly known fact.

We clearly hearkened from the UK. London is too much like home (in comparison to Rome or Paris) to suit my taste. Amazing history. Much to do and see but too similar to the US. I even prefer New York to it. Sorry die hard London fans…just sharing my opinion here. After Central America, Africa, and mainland Europe it feels bland…like it’s food. The people we all stayed with, on the other hand, are far from bland. They were a joy.

-Dione

The Wall

We have officially hit our wall. It is almost 8pm Minnesota time, but almost 2am London time. We get to board in a half an hour. Then 4 more hours of flying. Beds in San Francisco will never have felt this good!

-Dione

Home Already?

Going home just seems wrong. We’re moving back into our house, not another apartment but the house I know and love so well. After traveling for so long it seems surreal to finally be heading back to the States since the last time we were in the US was New York (in January). It always felt far away when we talked about it, but now it’s finally happening. We are on our flight to San Francisco and then driving home!

-Taylor