Skip to main content

far and away

I’m going back to Peru. I’ve wanted to return to Peru since the moment I left it four years ago. Knowing the immensely profound opportunity I have to travel to a foreign country, be welcomed by a community, and help that community with my newly acquired skills and knowledge has the power to make me take a deep breath and hold it. Then I stop and think: Is one week enough? The answer is most definitely: No, it is not. I want to stay there for months…and months. There are multiple problems with that. 1. That would be expensive. 2. I have a fantastic job opportunity that will not wait for me for that long. 3. I do not know if I have the capacity for being alone in a country I do not know, speaking a language I am only slightly acquainted with for that period of time. I am not sure which of those three problems is the most significant.

Maybe they are all equally significant. Each has its own importance. The last thing I want to do is go to an amazing country for an extended time while school debt equaling half of a house awaits me back home. I would feel guilty. Then I stop myself and say, “How can I feel guilty for seeing a beautiful, foreign land and helping those who reside in that land? There is nothing there to feel guilty about.” And yet, there is my guilt. I feel it right around the location of my thyroid. It brings me back to my inner conversation where I say to myself that one week is enough. Rather, I try to justify that one week is enough.

And yet, I dream. I visit travel sites. Plan my day trips. Decide which cities, which ruins, which beaches I will see on my extended trip. I plan out my finances. Determine how much I can spend extra aside from my medical mission trip.

I had two serious relationships in my life. One ended terribly – dragged out and re-injured like roadkill until the original relationship was indistinguishable. The second, I fear/believe, was only serious to me. The second was important for two reasons –  1. It told me that I was whole again after my roadkill experience.  2. It may have happened too soon after the roadkill. I told myself I needed to be alone… I needed to “find” myself as a single, strong female. The last time I was in Peru, I was in stage 1 of roadkill… I envision myself standing on a hill, looking over a lush, green, swaying field of grass moving in the salt air – thinking of nothing other than that moment. For the first time in…I do not know how many years, spending time with just myself will be my priority. Immersing myself in a language I have always enjoyed. Visiting a land where people with a fraction of the material things live richer lives than most anyone I know.

Regardless… While I may not know the duration of my visit, I am going. I will continue to compile lists of dream trips and necessary supplies for the clinic. Things fall into place as they need to…

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

adding a little jingle to November

if you know me, you know i love projects. some are larger projects that take months. most are projects that happen as follows: my mom: so, what do you want to do this weekend? me: well, i have this project i've been wanting to do... then we are off to michael's/hobby lobby/joann's/etc for goodies. then madness ensues. saturday we had this exact conversation once i arrived at my parents' house. i then showed her this photo i found from pinterest - and we were off to the store! the link i found was not linked to an actual tutorial once i clicked the link i realized there was not an actual tutorial attached. i realized this was going to be one of those "fly by the seat of my pants" projects (read: MY MOST FAVORITE KIND). part one was finding ornaments and a frame. i started with michael's who had this adorable assortment of christmas/holiday/seasonal beaded word ornaments. i snagged one and my mom got a different word. then we were off to hob...

weekend/sunday project time

about two weeks ago there was an arts market where this guy from atlanta had these really amazing carved wood pieces of art. i ended up with a really awesome owl (see below) but once i hung it on my living room wall i realized it needed some company.  i started brainstorming (read: pinterest stalking) and i came across a few ideas for mirrors surrounded by wood, which was the general idea i had to start. my initial thought was taking pallets, ripping the wood and making a basic, rustic, unfinished frame. that idea got scrapped when i saw these postings  Wood Chevron Mirror  and  Shim Mirror .  when i saw these i knew that i had to do something similar. sooooo -- i fused the ideas together. off to the home improvement store. i bought 15" long cedar shims, minwax stain in jacobean, two 2x4' pressed boards, glass/mirror cutter, paintbrushes, and gloves. i thought originally to use an old mirror on the back of one of my bedroom doors as the mirror, but my mom ar...

I Did Not Cry

I did not cry. For two weeks I did not cry. As I laid there staring at the ultrasound monitor while the doctor kept adjusting the angle of the ultrasound wand, searching, hunting for a heartbeat, I did not cry. When we sat and tried to determine if our dates were “right” or if they could possible be “off” and the doctor spun his pregnancy calculator wheel to see if the measurements had any possibility of being correct, I did not cry. When the financial coordinator started asking about making our hospital copayment and for the first time I had to say that there was a chance the pregnancy was “no good”, I did not cry. Standing in the parking lot, reminding myself how to take a normal breath while my husband carefully looked me over, assessing to see if I was ok to safely drive the 45 minutes home, I did not cry. We waited ten days to find out that no, there was not a heartbeat, and no, the baby is not growing anymore. Still, I did not cry. I matter-of-factly...