The countdown is officially to one. One day until I head back to NY, to my family, friends, familiarity...ENGLISH!
When I was little, we lived far from my grandparents. I had a joke with my Grandpa that he couldn't get too excited to see me....because if he jumped up and down too much he may create a hole in the floor and Gma would just not be very happy about that. That's how I feel right now...I'm sure that if my house wasn't built on a concrete foundation and out of cinder blocks there would be a massive "excitement" hole in the middle of my sala (living room...see before long you will be speaking Spanish too!).
If I am THAT excited...then how come I'm a bit nervous too?
In Mission Training (MTI) it was recommended that as missionaries we stay away from our home culture for 18 months...yup one year and a half. I adamantly refused to accept this proposal. No way. There was absolutely no way that I was going to adhere to missing Christmas in New York, or friends weddings or medical conferences. Especially since I live only a 4 hour plane ride away. C'mon. People live farther away in the states, it's not like I'm in Madagascar.
Five months after living out of culture I kind of understand what they meant. Where do I belong? At this juncture I can still vividly remember every house I passed on my way to work, or what the hospital cafeteria check-out clerk's name is. The people at Odyssey will still remember me and I will remember to avoid the squeaky 7th stair (sorry Dad) in my house. But will all that change by Dec 2013?
And, as long as I have lived in Jarabacoa (already 5 months!), and as much as driving up to my house in my Jeep with my two pups feels like a house I live in....it doesn't quite feel like "home."
And so begins the "homeless" life of a missionary. One foot in both countries. Is it possible to live in the DR, to give my all, to serve without reservation and still have a big part of me in the states?
Going home, is no longer like traveling home when I lived in Philly. Going home means visiting a wealthy culture with conversations and materialism a part of life. Pop culture has continued that I am blissfully ignorant to. Life has gone on without me, people have changed and so have I.
One of my greatest fears when I left the states was that I would grow to resent the culture I grew up in. But, miraculously the opposite has occurred. I have developed a deep love for our customs, traditions, cold weather, organization, laws, etc. So much so, that my desire to help others achieve the same opportunities has grown. The need for community development has strengthened in my mind.
And so, as I literally count down the minutes until I step foot on American soil and look forward to seeing my warm breathe in the cold air (shout out to Dad #2...pls remember my winter jacket!) I rest that going home will be a mix of emotions. It will be joyful, wonderful, overwhelming and probably a little hard. But, I also know where my true home resides and that never feeling truly "settled" or like I belong until I am there is ok- estas bien.
Si Dios quiere- te vere pronto!!!
Con amor y fe!
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