Lovely, now and then.

Life here can be frustrating. Most days I react to this fact with, well, frustration. I bite my lip and take deep breaths and try not to cuss people out for the ineptitude and general uselessness that is sometimes demonstrated. The generator repair man who doesn’t notice the glaring error in not reattaching the fuel line. The guard who decides to take some “me time” in the middle of the afternoon to wash his clothes, in our house, with our soap, when he should be, uh, guarding. Going back to the offices of the aid commission for the 17th time for a task that should have been completed in one visit.

And yet there are those days in the middle, that somehow the frustrating elements to daily life turn into amusing and almost lovely displays of randomness. We were attempting to get my country director and two volunteers out of our area on the UN flight the same day the arrived on a heli from the village- so it was a matter of exact timing and planning (neither of which have any place in the general vicinity of anywhere close to here)…so we had the guard call for a taxi and decided that we’d all go to try to catch them before they left to say goodbye and hand over last minute paperwork to be sent to the capital. Our national logistics worker piled in the little hatchback taxi, I crawled into the middle, and my roommate took the other side. One of the workers from the field in town on rest clambered into the front. The dilapidated taxi groaned and sputtered as it pulled away from our compound on the pitted dirt road- bottoming out at least twice on the huge holes before hitting the tarmac road. And so we creeped down the road and up over the mountain to the airport- our little rag tag family on an outing. It should have irked me that we still don’t have a car or that we were running around when I had work to do in the office, but, strangely, it didn’t. I found myself smiling a little as I stared out the window into the desert around me- the scrubby trees and bushes still green from the rainy season passed and the people on donkeys with loads of dried palm branches piled so high you wondered how the poor animal kept his balance. And it felt right. Good. Andrew Bird’s Scythian Empire kept playing in my head (random I know) and I was delighted- to be here in this strange and frustrating place with these sometimes strange and frustrating people in this horrid taxi at this moment.

I’m sure it had something to do with hot season winding down and sweat NOT rolling down my back like it usually does in situations like that one.

But mostly I was just thankful to have made it his far. And thankful that Jesus helps me push through the lip biting moments to the joy waiting on the other side.

Current Playlist:

Andrew Bird: “fingerlings”- the entire album is lovely but Scythian Empire, Dark Matter are quite excellent in my opinion.
Frou Frou: “It’s good to be in love”
Chris Tomlin: “God of this city”
Regina Specktor: “On the Radio”
Duffy: “Mercy”
Sanctus Real: “Face of Love”
Jason Upton: “I will wait for you”

This just in...

Last year around this time, I hopped on a crazy ghetto domestic flight from the city I live in now to the capital, dropped off my things, and went to pick up my mom at the fancy international terminal (imagine crystal-ish chandeliers, air conditioning, and duty free shops 20 feet away from the dust and heat of the city- still astounds me with its randomness). It had been seven months since I had seen anyone from home and I will never forget peering through the grimey glass windows and seeing her little curly head and purple jumper power walking through the customs line to get to the exit. I had a volunteer from the states and my boss with me to help with her things (she brought four bags of American goodness), but there was that moment of unbelievable stillness, almost to the point of surreal, when I realized she was truly here- and she was here for me.

I dragged her around the city for the next two weeks: we cooked and laughed and bickered and watched movies and went through the glorious array of things she had brought from America (Bacon! Pepperoni! Tortillas!) . She in turn organized my kitchen, scoured the market (with me lagging slightly behind, her stamina is incredible) for material for curtains, sewed, bought me random African Tupperware, and generally dazzled my friends, colleagues and whoever she met with her southern charm.

She was, is, wonderful. Perhaps you'll meet her one day and say the same.

The reality of it...

When I began this blog a rather long time ago I had intended to carefully chronicle my time overseas- adding a delightful anecdote here, a heart-wrenching story there, and general wonderment throughout.

As you can see, this has not been the outcome.

I find I apologize more for NOT blogging than actual blog anything of substance.

So here I am, less than three months left here of what was to be two years of successful storying and very little show for it in the world on online record keeping but I am only a little sad, really. It’s been a bit busy around here.

Perhaps one day I’ll be a faithful blogmeister who thrills in updating this thing in a quality effort to keep the people in her life updated if they care to be. Until that day, we’ll just keep going. The two of you who read this and me.

I wonder what America will do to my writing habits. We find out soon enough!

The countdown:

10 days until my dad arrives
18 days until Thanksgiving (my favorite food day of the year: Turkey Dinner!)
47 days until Christmas
(something like) 80 days of contract remaining…and everything that comes with it.

It’s hard to believe most days. Some days it’s not hard at all.

I would like to write an emotional summary of the time I’ve spent here, how hard it will be to leave and say goodbye to all that has happened, all that I’ve seen, and how it’s changed my life. All those things are true…but I’m not quite ready to talk about it yet. Maybe in a little while. Or after a few weeks of staring at an ocean or a forest in America and letting it all settle in and sort a bit.

Until then…know I’m alive. And growing.