Alma de Color

Who We Become

2011-12-11T15:23:00.005-07:00

Lately, I feel as though I have somehow lost focus on who I was on my way to being. Do you ever find yourself in such a place? I am a firm believer that life is a journey, a process of continual transformation. Each decision I make, every day, impacts who I am becoming and how I will respond to life situations in the future. I do not life is about sitting on my derriere and waiting for the transformation to just happen, so I can wake up tomorrow with my wings totally unfurled, dried out, and ready to test the air currents. I desire to have a continual divine discontent...discontent with dulled consciousness of life and existence; I want to burn with passion in joyful expectancy of my destiny, and be living it along the path to reaching it. I will never reach it if I am not moving toward somewhere. I can't wake up one morning and expect to have suddenly arrived at my destiny. We're not designed that way. True contentment is having that joyful expectancy, with full assurance that God is moving and has us in His palm all along the way.

So why am I in this joy-sucking eddy in which I feel desolate and impatient? How did I let myself get stuck here? When did I stop running and sink into the quagmire of complacency? Why do I find myself dwelling on the "what-could-have-beens" and "what-ifs"? Life is not a formula in which I plug in the right variables and spit out the perfect product each time. We humans are a bit more complicated.

So, since I am convinced, (flawed logic or not), that mistakes are only such if I don't learn from my poor decisions and stop doing them. Sin is sin, I know, and I am a sinner, though redeemed and a new creature in Christ. His blood has already redeemed me, and His hand continues to shape me as I go along. Do the little dirt flecks in the lump of clay that is my life truly ruin the whole piece? If I recognize those areas in my life that exhibit flaws, selfishness, false pride, rebellion, etc., and allow the Potter to poke them out with his potter's needle, and allow myself to be pliable in His hands, will I not turn out a beautiful finished piece in the end, tested and refined by the purifying refiner's fire of grace?

So, now to lift my eyes to the hills, from whence comes my help, to focus on the Author and Perfecter of my faith, and persevere, praying for wisdom, learning to focus on what I want to become and living out the steps to get there, seeking first the Kingdom, and all the rest will be added to the richness of the transformation process. I choose anew to live life with vibrancy and passion, with my focus on traits I want to exude, not kicking myself over mistakes and struggles.

El día del amor...and such sundry topics

2011-02-15T00:13:00.010-07:00

I decided to be terribly cliché this year and post something in the spirit of romance and lovey-dovey poetry. I wrote these two sonnets some years ago, and might even post a third eventually, if I feel uber inspired to write a new one. Voy a traducir mis sonetos, aunque no tendrán la misma forma correcta de un soneto en español.

Mist

My love is vague and fleeting after rain,

Like twilight he is neither day nor night,

I often dream, beneath the stars have lain,

In hope he might transpire upon my sight.

Most oft he blurs the visage trapped behind

His cloak of swirling droplets. Just as I

Reach out to touch, he disappears on wind;

He comes and goes upon my ling'rng sigh.

On silv'ry threads he shivers, then he shines,

With kiss of light from quiv'ring gentle breeze

To tease and tug upon the lethal lines

But won't be caught; entrapped by none of these.

To see my love, await the coming down,

When fears and all obscurities are gone.

Neblina

Mi amor es vago y efímero después de la lluvia,

Como crepúsculo no es día ni noche,

Siempre que podía, yo he soñado debajo las estrellas,

Esperando que él aparezca en mi visto.

A menudo se desdibuja el rostro atrapado detrás de

Su capa de gotas remolinas. Así como yo

Llegar al tacto, se desaparece en el viento

Él va y viene sobre mi suspiro prolongado.

En hilos plateados él tembla, luego brilla,

Con un beso de la luz de un viento cariñoso

Al provocar y jalar a las líneas letales

Pero no podrán capturarle—atrapado por ninguno.

Para ver a mi amor, espére la llegada del amanecer,

Cuando todos los miedos y las oscuridades han ido.

The Silhouette

When rays of sleepy sun come peek upon

The stretched horizon found to east of shore,

When darkness, fear, and dusk are found no more,

The morning after night is hailed the dawn.

My love to me is slowly taking on

A shape I see I think I saw before,

The vapored sunlight bright as gold does pour

Around his formless face. And with fear gone,

I revel dancing, gleaming soft delight;

We sway with hands entwined like rosy vine.

My love is dew that nestles close to grass,

Resplendent dashing valor blinds my sight,

In tiny glimpses, see this love of mine,

In air suspended. Time does cease to pass.

La silueta

Cuando los rayos del sol soñoliento vienen a mirar

Al horizonte que se lo encuentra al este de la costa,

Cuando la oscuridad, el miedo, y el anochecer se encuentran nada más,

A la mañana después de la noche se celebra la madrugada.

Mi amor para mí es poco a poco tomando en

Una forma que lo veo que creo que lo he visto antes,

La luz del sol brillante como el oro se vierta

Alrededor de su cara sin forma. Y con el miedo desaparecido,

Me deleito bailando, brillando el deleite suave—

Nos mecimos con las manos entrelazadas como la vid de la rosa.

Mi amor es rocío que está ubicado cerca de la hierba,

Valor gallardo y resplandeciente me deja ciega,

En destellos diminutos, vea este amor mío,

En el aire suspendido. El tiempo deja de pasar.

When the mind is left to wander...

2011-01-28T00:42:00.002-07:00

...it sometimes gets lost. No job for two months has punched me into a sort of time warp. I can most aptly describe the feeling as being "stir-crazy", which, for those of you out there who don't mind absolutely useless trivia, is connected to the Romany (Gypsy) term for "imprisoned". That's how I've felt some days: imprisoned by the excess freedom without any structure or schedule. That, and I've been living out of a suitcase since arriving back in the country, traveling regularly to visit friends and family, attend conferences, and share my trip with various groups.

Seriously, though, this month has marked several changes in my thoughts and behaviors, mostly for the better, so I think I've finally overcome the reverse culture shock period and have returned to my finding-joy-where-I'm-at phase. It's a much happier place to be, I've decided.

I got to dance for hours at the S.O.B Barn at MSU-Bozeman, attend the SALT conference in Butte, visit my Bozeman peeps for a week, swim at Fairmont Hotsprings with my family, ride my horse in the snow, pick up the violin again after a LENGTHY period of not practicing, and watch my little nieces grown and develop. So, it's been a great month, regardless of me being a jobless bum.

I have an interview in Richey, MT on Tuesday. Road trip! I'll see how many books on CD I can make it through. Oh, and on a reader's note, I highly recommend Aurelia's Thread series and the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Good reads!

La vida congelada...back in the frozen territory

2010-12-28T23:25:00.002-07:00

Perhaps finishing my last entry with "The end." was a bit dramatic. But I'm still struggling with letting that chapter of my life go. Strange how we cling to now-deceased fragments of things made irrelevant by the present. It's not as if life will never again be that good. Yet, my heart still aches at times as though I were grieving the death of a loved one. I've cried more over this change of location more than anyone I've lost. Doesn't seem right, but I guess it is what it is. Now is the time for my story of "now".

Lee picked me up from the airport that frigid night of November 22nd. I met up with some Bozeman friends the following morning, and happily packed into an already-stuffed carpool in the afternoon that got me as far as Butte. Jerrit brought me the rest of the way to Divide. I surprised everyone! It was fun to see the look of dumb shock on each face I encountered. A LOT of prep work and vague responses went into achieving such a widespread sneaky return. Only four people in MT knew of my early return, and only two of those were family members. Mission complete!

We spent Thanksgiving with the Stewart family, so I had some catch up times with Jillisa, though I don't know that I had processed anything sufficiently to interact with human beings at any normal level yet. A week after my return, I had my second emotional-wreck day. After that, I was able to talk with several dear ones from my other home down south, and my mood and outlook on life drastically improved after that.

December 1st, I moved with my suitcase/luggage/thingamabob to Darby in time to spend the next few days with Jason's sister, Andi, and her boyfriend, Caesar. That Thursday, my sister Sara needed a ride back to Bozeman. Since my parents supplied me with a new set of wheels to drive around, and her wheels had stopped functioning, I made the trek eastward. I went to visit some old college friends, and they asked if I were attending their Christmas banquet the next night! My former roommate, Lily, lent me a dress, Rod even went shoe shopping with me, and I kicked off my wool socks and Carhartt for a night of good company, hilarious skits, and fabulous dancing.

I figured the best way to put Laura into labor would be to leave town for a few days. I had sort of joked about it, anyway, but a text after midnight confirmed that she had gone into the hospital due to high blood pressure, and that they would be inducing in the morning. So, at 0200 on the morning of the 11th, I drove back the two hours to Divide. Laura had already popped out Hadassah Love Wilham by 0643, so I leisurely made my way back to Darby to help Mom with Selah. The newest family member and proud parents arrived back home around 1945, and the next several days were just trying to get into a schedule with a new baby.

I went to another dance with the homeschool crew on the 17th, (at Jillisa's request), which was much more middle-school style, but still enjoyable. On Saturday, we were going to do dinner and a huge bonfire, but it was super cold, we were already funned-out after dinner and chatting, and Matthew still had something to do. He set up a treasure hunt for Jillisa, with little treasures along the way. The hunt led to a Lego puzzle box he had spent most of a night and part of a day constructing. In it, she discovered a ring. And Matthew got down on his knee and proposed. She was super surprised, but still managed to respond favorably! We got two Christmas trees before everyone left for church in the morning. Fastest tree harvest ever! We found and harvested two in approximately 20 minutes.

The Wilhams and I drove to Divide for Christmas on Thursday. We passed the days playing new games, hanging out, eating delicious food, and enjoying each other's company in general. Caleb and I snuck away on a brother-sister date to watch the Voyage of the Dawn Treader and afterwards met up with the family at Rodney's and Jeni's new house. It's quite the project! I'm amazed to see people's creativity and skills in construction.

Christmas was very relaxed and lovely. I stayed in Divide on Sunday after Hadassah's dedication at E-Free Church to help the parents move cows back down to the Moose Creek Ranch, 7 miles away. Even though I was wearing no fewer than 5 layers, 2 pairs of wool socks, two scarves, a hat, chopper mittens, two pairs of pants, and riding a fuzzy furnace, I could feel the edge of cold on the 27 degree weather as we rode. The sunset was incredible! It's nice to remember that here in this dry, frozen land, just as in the humid paradise in Honduras, beauty and joy exist. I just have to keep my eyes open.

El fin del año en Honduras

2010-12-28T21:42:00.002-07:00

Once again, I was blogeligent, and therefore am WAY behind in my entries. I pity your poor eyes. Only read if you have a super good cup 'o something tasty and are seated very comfortably. :-) Here we go....

Entry from 11-12-10

If 7 weeks seemed like too short a time, then 9 days might very well kill me. Way back in October, I spent Natasha's last day here climbing the water tower, making cookies that mostly never made it to cookie status, and drinking large quantities of tea. The next day, I escaped early from a delightful dinner with the Rumbaughs' and practiced violin for almost an hour with practically no one in Staff Housing, (they were all still at the Rumbaughs'). I played fútbol three days in a row that weekend, had a great movie night/chat with Samuel, and moved out into the community with Joelle. She and Christine asked to take care of Rigo's and Christy's house until they get back in January. Christine was still in the States, though, and Joelle needed a housemate, so I'm it until Christine returns. The same week, Patrick asked for some help with saddling and working with Izzy, Sydney's mare. So, we did some groundwork for a while, and then he got on and took a ride around. I even took her out for a short spin. Not like cushy fat horses, but at least I got to ride a horse. :-)

We had a goodbye party for Mackenzie at Renee's to send her off. The time crunch has begun! I spent Sunday afternoon with the Yosts, cutting up enormous donated scrubs for shop rags. Christine returned on the 25th. And the next day, I finally filled the tires up on Christine's and my bike and rode it home to San Luís. The seat was still broken, so the trip was more difficult than usual, but still a beautiful ride. Dianny helped us make tortillas and arroz con frijoles y leche de coco. That Saturday, I translated for the new doc, Abby, and she taught me to do stitches. Unfortunately, Joelle had to work that night, but Christine, Samuel, and I cooked dinner by lantern and candle light due to a long power outage, and then had fun doing stupid human tricks and acrobatics. Who needs TV to entertain?

I took the kids for their last waterfall trip with me on Halloween. The main falls formed a giant whirlpool due to the abundance of water induced by extra rain. We swam in the lower pools! We made it back just in time to get ready for the costume party. Sam McKenzie and I were a pair: he was Apollo and I was his sister Artemis. I haven't dressed up in years, but he made it fun.

November began with a bang: I drove the land cruiser around without a hood, made a batch of chai, played soccer in the rain, made dinner for Samuel's and Joelle's anniversary, and Christine hit two horses on her moto, breaking a pinky bone and a metacarpal. We had a dance party on the 6th. It was a lot of fun, though it was difficult to teach the dances and not just DANCE. Yesterday, I went to dinner at Dianny's after making tortillas with Marta. We made baleadas and then Mailin taught us bachata, merengue, and punta. I loved every moment!

The young, single people of the community with few or no familial connections in Balfate caught the afternoon ferry to Roatan today, grabbed the key from Yourgin, and then went for dinner at the Argentine Grill. Then, later, we strolled the strip to Rick's Roadhouse and Grill for Ryan James.

Entry from 11-22-10

The brevity of my time in Honduras started to form a tight knot in my chest the next day. Julie and I slept in a little, and I visited with Brandi and Yourgin in the time we were waiting for Samuel and Joelle to arrive. We went to meet the group in West End for lunch and split for pizza and baleadas. I had to finish a translating project for Iain, so I chilled in Renee's room at Arco Iris for the afternoon, and then returned to Sandy Bay for some more visit time before we all met back up after our various and sundry adventures for dinner at the Cannibal Cafe. We hoped to find dancing, but it was too early. The know by that time had migrated into my throat and started squeezing out silent tears unnoticed in the dark. Samuel, Joelle, and I chilled on a dock for a while. I watched the lights float in wide ribbons on the swelling waves until I could bear it no longer. I tried to escape back to the house by myself, but Samuel followed me and witnessed me in my puffy-eyed, silent weeping state. So we talked for a couple hours before sleep. It was nice to have someone around who understands the strange isolation of such an experience. And I'm glad everyone else eventually found dancing and had a delightful time together.

Yourgin teaches a Sunday school to his uncle's family, so Samuel drummed with him and we listened to his talk on Isaiah. I was impressed with the content...it was no dumbed-down kid version, yet he made it relevant.

After Sunday school, Yourgin took Samuel, James, Canaan, and me out on his friend's boat to fish catracho style. I used a Gatorade bottle, James had nutmeg, etc. I caught nothing, but really enjoyed myself. The fish fry after was delicious. Good thing the others don't fish like I do! And then we joined everyone for dessert at the Lighthouse Restaurant in West End.

I woke up earlier than I wanted to in order to catch a taxi by 0600 to catch the early ferry back to the mainland. I got a few groceries and returned one last time to San Luís by chicken bus next to a VERY friendly Honduran man. Didn't think the chicken buses could get more cramped? I can tell you from experience, they can be utterly suffocating when unwanted interest is practically sitting in one's lap!

On the 16th, I walked to Balfate at 0700 for a haircut from Sharon. I watched movies with Joelle and finally finished my translation project in the afternoon. I walked the last bit to Balfate with Argentina and Ruth, who hadn't found a jalón (lift) and walked the whole way from the hospital. I spent some time with Mike and Peggy.

Iain trained Amy and me in sound engineering on Thursday, and then I learned from Marta how to make the dough part of the tortillas. Hers are SO delicious! After fellowship, Amy and I took a walk to Lucinda and back to catch up and start our farewell process.

I said my goodbyes at the Casa de Niños in the morning, followed by el Camino bilingual school (also turned out to be Hannah's 13th birthday party), then the bodega boyz, my last fútbol game, and then, at long last, an orange-squishing/baleadas/Uno/trompos/dancing party. That night was one to remember and cherish forever!

I had a delightful breakfast with Norma the morning of my second to last day in Honduras. I worked on some internet stuff at el hotel (Staff Housing) for a longer bit than intended, picked up Christine and drove back home. I ate some lunch and then Alex Zelaya called. I met him at Pulpería Karen where he introduced me to Trotón (Big Trot), his tiny little stallion. Alex rode his bike alongside to La Quinta beach, where Sydney met us on Izzy. I rode in the waves, we swam in the river, explored through the tunnel and into the jungle, and floated out in the sea. That day turned out to be one of the major highlights of my entire year. It's a shame we save the best for last, sometimes.

I showered and walked to Ruth's to cut her hair and say goodbye. Bairon brought Samuel and me to music practice and we had to say our final goodbye there. ¡Uy! I despise saying some goodbyes! I seem to be making a habit of it. Practice was enjoyable, as was my community goodbye party at Reneeś. I stayed up organizing my belongings and packed Sunday morning. The soccer boys came for worship, since I had promised to lead two in Spanish. I said farewell to everyone at church, the boys, and then Christine, Joelle, Samuel, and I loaded into Norma's vehicle and we journeyed to San Pedro Sula.

I had to sort out my ticket mess, (wrong date for second part of my journey), so we just ate at Baleadas Express nearby. Final goodbyes and a 0230 flight. The end.

Only for the record...archive...annals...buckle your seatbelts!

2010-10-11T15:08:00.002-06:00

Entry from 7-30-10

Two days ago, I had an adventure. Colegio was canceled for the day, so the kids wanted to go to Río Coco and Bambú. Peter, Karli, Josh Bradley, James Morrow, and I went with. Río Coco was beautiful and refreshing. Bambú was also nice...until a naked catracho came streaking through the rocks, kyped our bags, and ran off into the jungle! We were all so stunned by his state of disrobe and leafy headband that we didn't react quickly enough to catch him. ¡Qué raro! No one was hurt, however, and we only lost 3 cameras, some moto keys, a shirt, a couple drivers' licenses, a cell phone, etc. Just stuff. And we now have a rather hilarious story. :-)

Entry from 9-23-10

At the beginning of last month, I began to teach Samuel McKenzie judo, though I remember very little indeed. We began with just proper running form and stretching, and progressed to basic falls. It's fun getting back into some sort of training.

Sometime midmonth, the teachers all over Honduras went on strike. The kids didn't have school for a terribly long time, and now, they're double-timing it to try to finish on time before their rainy season break from mid-November to the first part of February.

Amy came over for a sleepover on the 19th. We made crepes in the morning, watched Psych, caught up for hours, and then went to her house to make pizza and talk with Don. We went down to visit Karli, who seemed a bit better. It was very difficult to say goodbye...

I moved my stuff back in small waves due to the Yosts' return on Wednesday afternoon. That same evening, two backpacking bros showed up on the chicken bus. They stayed here a few days on their 5-week trip around Central America. We made killer spaghetti the first night, drank chai the second, and then had pizza and my gingersnaps on Friday. I had spent the whole afternoon on the beach with Amy, so the day was FULL.

I was dragged into town Saturday morning by Samuel, and it turned out to be a good thing because we were stopped at a checkpoint, and Samuel discovered he didn't have his license...or any documentation...with him. God worked it all out; instead of him going to jail and the car being impounded, Howard came and talked the cop out of the L1200 bribe he asked for and paid him L500 instead. I had to drive home. Later that weekend, we had a game night at the Lents and played a derivation of Banana Grams/Speed Scrabble, In a Pickle, and Apples to Apples.

Entry from 9-24-10

"Leaving, on a jet plane..." I will arrive to Denver in a little less than 3 hours, only to drive all the way back down to Houston. I must be crazy! The last week before leaving Honduras, I let a lot of emotional stress points go and refocused on what I know to be important in my work here. Once again, I came to the end of me, and now I can once again move forward in freedom. That's always such a lovely place to step forward, but seems to cost so much to get to that point!

Right before leaving, Samuel led the Thursday night discussion, and he talked about "when life sucks". It was a nice discussion of how we get through deserts, and our response should be one of not self-preservation but of willing sacrifice. And that is how we are triumphant. How Jesus lived the most painful life of all, full well knowing what life ought to be like, what food should taste like, etc., but suffereing through it to bring ultimate redemption and restoration. We each have a little piece of the knowledge of what life should be like, and hence, the discontent with sickness, disasters, evil, and all things not excellent. I appreciated the perspective he shared.

Friday, we packed into the Wards' truck with René at 4:40 AM to head to San Pedro Sula. Joelle and I were on the same flight to Houston, though Samuel went through Miami. Aleisha met me at the airport and took me back to her sweet apartment in Kirby Place. We pretty much just talked forever, catching up on life, experiences in third-world countries.

On Saturday, we spent the most tranquil, lazy morning ever! We went out for a late lunch to Pappa's Burgers. I ate so much food! The highlight was the choco-banana-peanut butter shake. Sooooo good! We were too full for dinner, so we had rootbeeer floats instead.

We drove to Galveston for a day on the beack on Sunday. I read "The Alchemist" for the first time. We capped the night with more rootbeer floats and "7 Brides for 7 Brothers". Aleisha had class all day Monday, so I got up, worked out, packed, napped, and spent a relaxed day alone. Later in the evening, we went to a global discussions group. The host lived in labyrinthal complex, so we had a bit of an adventure just arriving. Dinner was delicious, and I enjoyed a stimulating politcal discussion with a brother in Christ, Edwin, from Africa. We were wiped out by the time we got home. Aleisha took me to the airport in the morning to fly to Denver. The parents and Sara met me at the airport.

I got to drive to Chris and Sue's. We had a lovely lunch on their porch, and I was pretty tired from the flight and lack of oxygen, so I napped for a little. Joel and Quentin made it for dinner, and we had a lovely family reunion time over a delicious fare. We stopped at Focus on the Family in Colorado Springs the next day, had scrumptious Wodfamchocsods at Whit's End, and found some fun shirts at the bookstore. We spent a couple hours touring the Broadmore Hotel, Carriage Museum, and grounds before lunch. It was a beautiful place, but I can only imagine how expensive it would be to stay there. When Dad, Nana, and Papa stopped there in the 70's, a room cost $150.00/night!

Dad accidentally forgot to pack a luggage with his Tarzan book inside, so I bought him "Riders of the Purple Sage" by Zane Grey at Wally World and he, Sara, and I took turns reading aloud for the remainder of our trip. It was fun to experience that part of the West while reading a novel about it. We stayed at the Cow Palace in Lamar, CO, stopped in at Dodge City to take pictures with Matt Dillon, and snapped some pictures of the romantic sunsets into which western heroes always seem to be riding.

We were able to spend a short time with the Lawrences in Dallas, TX for a night and half a day. I could hardly believe how big the kids have grown since they left! It was a lovely visit, which just left me wishing we had more time together.

We made it to Austin before night fell and ate out at a joint named Hoover's. We all had a version of catfish. Aleisha and her Turkish roomy, Zeynep, came the next morning, and we all toured the capitol and ate lunch at Hoover's again before I said farewell to my family and began a much shorter roadtrip back to Houston. I SO enjoyed our conversation on our return. Zeynep treated us to Starbuck's coffee, and we talked girl talk the whole way back. It was such a refreshing time!

I met up with Symon in the airport early the next morning, ate breakfast before our flight, and then boarded the plane for the last leg of my journey. Iain picked us up at the airport since Sandy, the anesthesiologist, arrived on the same flight. We made it to Amy's birthday party when we returned, I threw some rice and veggies together for dinner, and then he crashed. The next day, I showed him around and handed him off to Brad to start some agriculture project.

Entry from 10-2-10

I jumped back into the swing of things after my day of reorientation, and loved being back with the kids! I took the whole lot of 'em to Bambú on Saturday, though luckily, the naked man was absent! The 28th was a cultural day for Honduras, a sort of extension of their Independence Day on the 15th. I was so excited to see German's and Jayson' folkloric dance, but after a 14-hour day, running the kids back and forth, a deluge cut short the celebrations, and they will have to wait until next year to do their dance. It was still an enjoyable day, despite the disappointment of missing their dance twice.

Wednesday was Symon's last day, so we had a bonfire in the midst of Bairon's English session. He had never toasted marshmallows before! Natasha and I had hung out most of the day, drinking tea, making cookies, and talking, and she wanted to see the sunrise, so she, Symon, James, Macknezie, and I arose at 0515 to go to the beach. We made egg-in-toast for breakfast, and then said our farewells.

I didn't have to do any school runs on Friday, so I was on-call translator for the new Dr. Abby. We ust had one 8-year-old who needed stitches. Abby taught me how, and said I could to the next ones! We had a group dinner and game night after that. It was quite enjoyable.

We played Loaded Questions with Abby, Rimas, and Bairon. I finally caught up with Joelle afterward, since I had barely seen her since her return to Honduras.

Everyone was gone to missionary conference in Siguatepeque, and I was glad for the quiet solitude. Today, I cleaned, danced about when noone was watching, listened to music, and relaxed in general. Good day!

Remembering Roatan

2010-07-30T09:03:00.003-06:00

In the early afternoon hours of Friday the 16th, five young adults bounced down a bumpy, lumpy road on their way to an adventure. They bought their ferry tickets in La Ceiba and set off for the tropical island of Roatan, feeling giddy with excitement and expectancy for the weekend activities. The waves were calm, so the ride was tranquil, and the sea spray tickled their faces and spiced their inhalations.

And so began our weekend with my cousin Brandi and her husband Yourgin.

They made dinner for us the first night, which was absolutely delicious! Beans, rice, chicken, tortillas...does it really get much better than that? I'm STILL not tired of beans and rice! We turned in for the evening pretty early so we could get up and go the following morning.

Morning arrived the crack of dawn with Christine bumping about the room at 5:30 AM because she couldn't sleep. I slept a bit more after that, but the quality of it had declined severally. When we all were fairly functional, we made pancakes for breakfast and headed off to West End. We hired a guy to take us out to West Bay in his little boat and give us all snorkel gear for an hour. I saw a large blue parrotfish, normal parrotfish, many other what's-its and who's-its, and chased a turtle.

After our hour of snorkeling, we sat down in a small restaurant that we discovered normally just does breakfast until five PM. But since we explained that we had seen the sign for pizza, and would each order a pizza, she went in search of her pizza girl, and she came in to cook for just us. We felt pretty special, and very satisfied with lunch!

A cerulean blue kayaking experience followed pizza consumption. We all got a LOT of sun during that bit, with the exception of James, who went scuba diving instead of kayaking. We returned to our rooms to shower and such, and then I spent some time talking with Brandi and Yourgin while Yourgin worked on his Honduran jade jewelry. He does beautiful work!

We returned to West End to the Cannibal Cafe for dinner, and then found a live band at Rick's Roadhouse Grill for the remainder of the evening. The band was excellent, and we even got up and danced toward the end. We got in some tango, salsa, limbo, swing, and made-up-dance-moves-on-the-fly. I thoroughly enjoyed myself! Back at the house, I cut Samuel's hair, (he's back in a mohawk), and we all chatted and laughed about the evening until almost 2:00 AM.

James went out for another dive in the morning, and the rest of us went to a bilingual church where Yourgin has been filling in by leading music. So Samuel played djembe and Yourgin played guitar and sang. The message was spoken in English and Spanish, alternating ever few sentences between an English-speaking man and a Spanish-speaking woman. That was my first time hearing a translator in that capacity. After church, we ate pizza, said our goodbyes, and took a taxi back to the ferry. The Lents picked us up in Ceiba, we shopped for some groceries, and we had a very pleasant ride back to La Quinta.

The five travelers returned from whence they came tired, but jubilant and refreshed. The cyan waters still floated in their thoughts, and they with renewed energies returned to the daily routine, changed...somehow closer to each other than they had ever been....

Translating etc.

2010-07-08T13:30:00.003-06:00

About a week into Naomi's stay here in La Quinta, Colón, Honduras, Norma approached me and asked me if I might be interested in translating for a visiting doctor for whom no translator had hitherto been procured. And thus it was that two weeks ago, I wandered into the hospital labyrinth to seek out Dr. Hans de Bruyn from Calgary, Canada. Several of the missionary families and docs are in the States for the summer, so Hans came down to help for three weeks since we were down to only two docs for most of the summer.

I have REALLY enjoyed translating! I certainly lacked (and still lack) many words and phrases in my standard classroom knowledge, like the word for "hemorrhoids", "lymph nodes", and "you have a chronic condition of such and such a type of arthritis, as well as leftover tissue from having part of your varicose vein removed, as well as parasite, as well as stress problems." Hard to translate that lot. But I also discovered after the first day on the job that even when I look up the real translations at night and try to communicate with the patients, most of them lack the education to understand those words, anyway. So I communicate in simple word pictures and analogies based on the patient's description of his or her environment and social interactions.

So when a patient came in with terrible loss of cartilage in one of her knees and was complaining due to the pain, she didn't understand the word for cartilage, so I thought for a moment, and God sort of nudged me to use "almohada" instead. Her face brightened as I told her that her pain was due to the fact that the "pillow" in between her leg bones was gone and so they were grinding together. Hardly solved the problem, but she was much less stressed just to KNOW what the problem was.

I was thinking about my acquired interests and skills over the years, and at first was thinking that I hadn't ever intended to become so diverse in my abilities/travels/studies/jobs/etc. But then I remembered studying about becoming a "Renaissance woman" in Ginny Emery's, (then Thrash), core group my freshman year. We intentionally sought to learn about different people, different fields of study, different hobbies, etc., with the intent of learning how to bridge to people. And God has certainly opened many diverse opportunities for me to do so!

Now I am able to connect with these people and help to educate them (in a language they understand) how to care for their injuries or to prevent/treat certain future ailments. The not knowing and feeling pain really aggravates their stress and symptoms.

Aren't our lives a bit like that? We feel the pain, dissatisfaction, or emptiness, and we try to treat the symptoms with all these ineffective home remedies--money, fame, relationships, drugs, work--without addressing the actual sickness. We are all broken and fallen creatures. And our cure is already paid for. But we have to go to the pharmacy to pick up the prescription:

"Comatose

I'll never wake up without an overdose of you

I don't wanna live

I don't wanna breathe

'les I feel you next to me

you take the pain I feel

waking up to you never felt so real

I don't wanna sleep

I don't wanna dream

'cause my dreams don't comfort me

The way you make me feel

Waking up to you never felt so real" (Skillet "Comatose").

The Cayman Islands, ARGGGHHH, Matey!

2010-06-17T12:19:00.003-06:00

Who'da thunk I'd ever end up on the Cayman Islands? Certainly not me! I had priced plane tickets all over, and the one to Cayman was the most economical, though the lodging was not. I stayed at a little guesthouse called Eldemire's. I wandered the streets a bit on Thursday night to find some groceries, and then on Friday to see Smith's Cove and a bit of 7-Mile Beach. My first impression was that of distaste and also of claustrophobia. there are very few sidewalks, private property lines the majority of the beach, adn all the attractions are based on purchasing something.

So I didn't get to swim with a horse in the Caribbean, (though that would be rockin'!), or visit the turtle farm, or go snorkling, but I did finish some work I was trying to get done before I got sick the week before my trip. I walked for three hours on Saturday, and at least half of those were spent walking in the rain! I was happy as a barnacle on a boat! I watched two old movies on TV in the evening and just chilled.

On Sunday morning, Peter Hughes, a friend of the McKenzies, came by with his two kids while his wife was at day two of a rugby training camp with the U.S. national rugby coach. They took me out to coffee and showed me a bit more of the insider's view of the island. Peter works for the RedCross, and he had a suitcase of children's clothing for the Children's Center, (I checked it on my return flight), so I got to see his workplace before he dropped me off right before noon. He took me to church with him that evening, as he runs sound at the church. I was expecting stuffy legalism, but instead found an earnest family of believers who are from all sorts of walks of life. I was stunned by the authenticity of the church-goers, amidst/in spite of the grandeur of their facility. I have been in such humble surroundings for so long, the church building, gym, classrooms, stainglass windows, and stellar acoustics really blew me away.

Peter came by at 6 AM Monday morning to pick me up for the triathlon event he had to cover. I'd never been to a triathlon before, but I must say the younger age groups really inspired me to try one someday! There were three separate events, one for the adults, one for parents and 11-15-year olds, and one for the little guys. Claire came and dropped off the kids part way into it, so I got to help play with them and keep them occupied during the event.

Our last activity before my departure was breakfast. We ate at a little cafe that sat next to one of 4-5 wave machines that generate a big enough wave to surf! I even got to see it in action, because there was a private kids' party there while we ate breakfast. They didn't turn up the wave enough to be a legit surfing wave, but it looked like a ton of fun! We said our farewells at the airport, and then came the short wait to the next surprise.

Samuel and Naomi had a connection flight to La Ceiba through Cayman, and I kept my visa trip location secret long enough to keep it a surprise for them. Samuel saw me journaling at the gate, and thought I looked an awful lot like Kri......WAIT!!! It was most excellent! I'm getting into this whole suprise attack thing. Strikes three and four!

Their luggage did not arrive with them, so I filled out the paperwork and talked with the people in charge to try to locate it. The two travelers were rather weary, (more like dead on their feet!), but Brad, John, and I took them back to the mall area to get some food and groceries, and then we picked up Wannabe from the shop. I took Naomi with me and Samuel rode with the guys back to the hospital, were we had a brief dinner with the Rumbaughs and then retired for the night.

An altogether successful trip, I think! I am ready to jump back into life here, whatever it will look like from here on out. This summer will be very different from the rest of my time here, so bring on the adventure!

Mayo al fin...o...al fin de mayo

2010-05-29T02:01:00.002-06:00

Today marks the end of May, which means that I am just short of being halfway through my committment here. That also means I need to take stock of what I've accomplished, what my vision for the rest of my time here is, and how to go about it. As I predicted, since I will be staying here for the summer, the opportunities to serve in many/or all capacities are leaping around me, urgently begging me to pick them up. But this year is different than any other in my life. I refuse to become overbooked and inefficient. One nice thing about having so much need all around, I can more easily see that life goes on with or without certain needs being filled immediately.

The first couple weeks of this month, we at El Camino School were finishing up final research papers and powerpoint presentations on Ancient Rome. One of the computers had been stolen from the school, and then Louis' laptop keyboard pretty much died, so we were down to trying to get everyone to work on their stuff on my laptop. That got a bit hectic! We all survived, ended the school year with pool parties and reminiscing.

Lisa Bradley finally made it home after several months of cancer treatment in the States, so I joyfully turned her house and dogs back over to her care, and moved back to el hotel (aka staff housing). Of course, right before I did move back, danger and violence stirred the tranquil waters with their crooked fingers, and our mostly quiet little villages were disturbed by a kidnapping, a few murders, theft, and drug violence. After the special forces Cobra team and the military forces came and swept away a few of the criminals, things quieted down for a bit. And then they were released, again, much to our dismay. But we still remain physically safe, due to the grace of God, and He still holds our futures in His palm, which is a spectacularly awesome place to be, I must say!

I am now housesitting for the Yosts, in a different house, right across the way from Lisa's. It's lovely to have a haven to organize my thoughts and my plan of attack for the summer. June will be over before I realize it!

Burrowing into the Beatitudes

2010-05-22T10:26:00.004-06:00

Our study began in Matthew 5:3-12. Dr. Jeff began by giving us some background of how this section of the Bible led to his own decision to follow Christ. We talked about the conflict that arises from so many interpetations and ideas about it, and how we wanted to not just skip over the difficulties, but address them head-on.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

We talked about the meaning of the word “poor”, as well as what we thought the “kingdom of heaven” referred to. The consensus was that in the first step to becoming a Christ-follower is to recognize a poverty of spirit, the great lack in our lives of the ability to make things right by ourselves. We need to recognize our need for God before we can truly move on to understanding any of the rest of the relationship. We can then hope in the kingdom to come, and it seems that we will somehow have positions/jobs in the kingdom.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

Rachel brought up a good point about mourning: we mourn because we have a deep grief over our sin that has caused all that is not right in the world to be so. Sin has broken the relationship between God and all of man, and the earth itself was cursed because of it. Yet, we seem to all have an innate sense of things not being as they ought to be. So we grieve over our fallen state, and in our grief and brokenness, God can draw us to Himself and make things right in our hearts; He will restore the right relationship between Himself and mankind.

“Blessed are the meek, for they will possess the earth.”

I loved the discussion the meekness, because for so long, I thought that to be meek was to be weak. Rosanne looked up “meek”, and found there a word picture that really captivated my thoughts. She said that meekness is like putting a bridle in a horse. The horse is a powerful animal, capable of amazing things, but with discipline and lots of training, its capability is increased tenfold. A horse is not weak. But when trained to push into the bit correctly, rather than fight it, the horse can be collected and ready for action, well balanced, and capable of moving quickly, precisely, in any direction, and with a graceful beauty that is lovely to behold. Meekness is having great control over great power for others’ benefit.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they shall be satisfied.”

Nate was thinking, as was I, that the righteousness that we ought to be hungering and thirsting for was our own--like we ought to be striving to be righteous because God is righteous. However, he shared that he realized that we cannot be righteous, because we are fallen creatures, and have nothing in us that can be righteous enough for God. Rather, we want to see God’s justice and things “set right”, but on this earth, we will constantly be hungry, until that day when Christ comes back to “set all things right”.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.”

God showed us mercy first, so we can now show mercy to others. The Bible seems fairly strict on this point, we will receive mercy if we show mercy, and will be shown no mercy if we do not. We talked a bit about the parable of the servant who was shown mercy by the master and forgiven a vast debt, but then went and was unmerciful toward another servant who owed him a tiny debt. He was found out and then dealt with severely.

“Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God.”

Purity in this sense means 100% in original form. As it was intended. We are restored to how God intended us to be, following the process of poverty of spirit, repentance, having self control for the growth and benefit of others, pursuing God as our satisfaction, and showing mercy to others because we have been shown mercy. “Behold, all things are made new.”

”Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called sons of God.”

I researched this one to share, and I like what I found! The Hebrew word for this peace, shalom, is used in greeting. But it means a whole lot more than a simple “What’s up?” It does not simply mean, “I wish the absence of anything bad happening to you.” Instead, it means the presence of all good things in someone’s life. So, peace is not simply the absence of war and conflict; peace is the abundant presence of good things in our neighbors’ lives. One commentary I read pointed out that this verse does not say, “peacelovers”, it says “peacemakers”. Sometimes, conflict and pain need to be present in order to bring about the presence of all good things and healing in a situation. We are to sow good things into people’s lives, even if it means making some waves. As for the “sons of God” part, it could mean inheritance, as in, we will be coheirs with Christ, and therefore have power and authority to bring His kingdom into our spheres of influence, or it could mean an adjective. In Hebrew, they don’t have adjectives much. Instead, they might describe a happy man as a “son of happiness”, or a beautiful woman as a “daughter of beauty”. So if we are God’s sons, it means we belong to God, and therefore, our lives ought to show that we reflect characteristics to He to whom we pertain.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

The word “righteousness” here, in the Hebraic understanding, meant to “uphold one’s end of a covenant”. Daniel was given as an example here. He was counted as righteous because he kept His part of the covenant.

“Blessed are you when men cast insults […] and persecute you, for you reward is in heaven.”

The old church went looking for persecution, so great was their desire to gain rewards for the sake of persecution. We certainly don’t go looking today! Once again, as at the beginning, it seems to indicate that not all rewards will be equal, but that we will not be jealous of others’ crowns, but rejoice that every one cast at Jesus’ feet.

Pizza Crust in the Jungle

2010-05-10T17:37:00.002-06:00

I have been experimenting with pizza crust. For Fellowship the other night, I used a basic recipe from someone else down here...and I decided to keep looking. I've found one right now that I'm needed to experiment with a bit more...but I'm liking it at the moment! I've also decided I enjoy trying out nontraditional toppings. Like I made this white sauce from ranch, onions, jalapeños, Pace Picante tomato salsa, garlic, spices, and milk. And then I covered it with Colby Jack and Parmesan. It was very different, and it all disappeared.

Tonight, I made cheese pizza on a crust that I made several days ago and stored in the freezer. I am contemplating the crust. I think I like this one, but I will first have to take another bite...

For my update on April, I will just copy my newsletter here. I know. I'm being lazy. But I want to catch up enough to be able to blog more frequently about not just newsletter stuff. So here's an attempt to catch up:

I think I will call April my “test month”. After such a full visa trip home, life reengaging here was not as easy as I had surmised. My plans to take a relaxing trip to Antigua for Semana Santa, (“Holy Week”), fell through, so I stayed home instead. I don’t regret my decision. I got to set up and run sound for a fantastic Easter program after staying up all night baking and dancing in the rain. And there was the 5:30 AM sunrise gathering on the beach, (directly following my 1.5 hours of sleep and before the program).

So Easter was a lovely time for me to remember it’s not about me anyway. I make plans, but God directs my steps to accomplish His purpose for me. I was able to achieve much more in Balfate than I would have sightseeing in Antigua.

I moved out to Balfate-(the area surrounding the hospital compound is actually called la Quinta; Balfate is 4.1 miles away and actually has a small village here)-to housesit for Lisa Bradley at the beginning of the month. She is in the States getting cancer treatment, and the Browning family left to return back to the States for six months, so she needed someone else to look after her two chocolate labs and lovely house. It's a charming house, but I've had some trials being out here: first the power kept going out and the generator hasn't been working, the radio is not working, the truck had a flat tire and the emergency brake doesn't function, the interent was down as well, so I had no contact with anyone down here or otherwise, the washing machine leaked water all over the place, a ligth cover fell and shattered on my hand, and then I caught scabies that's being passed around, which of course infected the cut on my finger. I got treatment for scabies, antibiotics for my cut, and have been blessed by Mike Yost and Dave Fields working on my truck, internet, and radio problems.

The “honeymoon” period of my trip clearly ended. I remain unshaken because I did not come here for a joyride. I am here to live out my destiny and bring glory to the only One who has control over everything in the first place. I’m only human, but what incredible purpose we have as humans! Know that your part in my journey is bearing fruit and driving forward with vigor and passion. Thank you!

Get Your Eyes Ready, Set, READ (stream of consciousness)

2010-03-25T21:33:00.008-06:00

February flew by in a flurry of moments, really. I can barely separate out the distinct events. Before I realized it, I was several days into March. Penny had asked me a couple weeks prior if I wanted to speak at Honduran fellowship on the topic of joy. I accepted, though I had no idea what to expect. I also did sound set up/tear down/leading worship. Mayra, Rachel, and I were the worship team, and then Oscar and a different lady gave little mini-lessons before my sermon.

Sermon.

Who would have guessed I'd preach in my day? Not I! I didn't know if I had the vocab to speak for 20 minutes on joy, but God spoke through me somehow. Selvino, (Honduran construction foreman), talked to me afterward, as did several others, so I know God used my words to touch lives. Operation accomplished.

Operation.

Somewhere in the midst of all that, I had been planning a secret mission to Montana for my visa renewal trip. Matthew and I called it Operation Sneakalicious. But before I made it out of the country, we had a few more noteworthy events that I will now proceed to document. Tuesday's history lecture belonged to Jeff, and he far outshone every other possible craft I can think of--(granted, my craft ability is next to nil)--when he turned a wire spool into an elephant teeter-totter thingamabob for the kids. They had to try to stay on while other classmates rocked them and while they recited the poem he made up about Hannibal, the famous Carthaginian general who led his army of 50,000 infantry, 9,000 cavalry, and 37 elephants across the Rhone River and the Alps to invade Italy. Many of this infantrymen and horses died, but he didn't lose a single elephant! The elephant spool was a smashing hit.

Hit.

I felt a bit blindsided by the information from Christine that she and Norma would be leaving a few days earlier than I had planned to leave for San Pedro Sula to get a lab machine serviced, and I could ride with them, if I wished. That shortened my preparation time dramatically, but I did what I could. I taught Amy, (though she basically knew already), how to set up/tear down sound, hook up powerpoint, yada yada, and then went to sit with Orlin and Luis for a bit so Liz could have a bit of a break. I learned how to suck the mucus out of Orlin's throat and read a book to Luis and taught him how to write his name. It was a very enjoyable time.

Time.

We had a merry time traveling to San Pedro, though I definitely fell asleep for a bit of the journey. We found our hotel, La Cordillera, after a bit of blind navigation. Here's a little advertising: La Cordillera is the most amazing hotel I've ever stayed in...and it cost $70/night. The towels were scented with exotic flavors that remind me a bit of Morocco, the service was impeccable, the beds were awesome, the color schemes and decor were superb, and breakfast each morning was vastly different from the usual donuts and OJ. We had an array of fresh fruit, coffee served just how we liked it, three different fruit juices, bread to toast, cookies, ham, and cheese....yep, I will stay there every time I have to stay over in San Pedro, and you should too!

Too.

I was too tired to get up with the early risers to go drop off the machine, so I worked on correcting papers instead until they returned for me. We did a bit of shopping around/exploring, and then went out to and Italian restaurant for dinner. Mmmmh!

Mmmh!

I love surprises. And this surprise was definitely delicious. And sneaky. Hence the name. Without any planning by myself or her, my cousin Daron happened to be on my flight from Salt Lake to Bozeman, so we were able to have a lovely catch-up-with-life-over-the-past-4-years session. Sara came to the airport to pick Daron up, completely unaware that I would show up too! We stopped in Belgrade for some burgers, which tasted incredible after three months of eating little meat/weird Brahma beef. Dad's family came to visit in Divide, and I also surprised several of them by my presence in Montana. I went to bed relatively early compared to sometimes, and got up and delivered the recently-butchered steer hide to Butte. However, no one in Butte was taking hides, so I ran some errands and returned home with the hide still in the back.

Back.

As soon as I got back, Daron, Carol, and I made 61 pasties, complete with rutabegas, carrot shavings, and the regular fixin's. They were SO delicious! The rest of the family were out cutting, grinding, and packing the steer. I was fairly tired by the time I left for Bozeman for the next leg in my adventure.

Adventure.

I was too tired to do anything exciting with the boyz that night, but the next day, Lee and I tried out a new Indian/Thai restaurant for breakfast/lunch, and later that night, Rod and I went to tango for over four hours. THAT was fun! I did struggle a bit with dancing in 3" heels after being barefoot for 3 months, but I didn't even care; I LOVED dancing! That night, Tim, Rod, Lee, and I watched Kung Fu Panda...(not quite the "epic" movie I had requested, but it was most enjoyable anyway.)

Epic.

A little more epic was my St. Pat's Day. We went to ICT for a Savage Chai...mmmmh!...visited a tattoo parlor to get a potential one drawn up, and then went shooting after Lee finished b-ball. I ate dinner with Chelsea, (correction, I ate La Pa since she had already eaten), and then I ran down the street to Nathanial's and Sarah's place to hang out for many hours. Upon to returning to the house, I made some Crum for Lee and we had our "nightcap" and had a great catch-up-on-life chat.

Chat.

I was overjoyed that I was able to chat over coffee with Asagi and Alex, very recently returned from their trip to the island of Antigua, Japan, and then Bend, OR, their new home. Then, I drove home to Divide, rode the motorbikes with Mateo, ate dinner, and rushed into Butte to play basketball with a few friends. It'd been a while, that's for sure! We rented a movie, but it put me to sleep about 1/4 through, so it wasn't very exciting. :-)

Exciting.

Plotting Jason's surprise with Laura in Darby was quite enjoyable, though I never really had a lot of time to spend with both of them together, alone. I had a bit of time with Laura to do a brief catch-up, and then Jason's parents arrived and we prepared for his dinner surprise that evening. When he got home, we ate dinner and then went to his parents' hotel in Hamilton for a dip in the pool. Apparently, it was the night before a wrestling tourney, so the pool was pretty busy with adolescent energy. The hot tub, at least, was wonderfully relaxing, and the DQ we enjoyed afterward really hit the spot.

Spot.

Jim took Jason on a wild hunt for boats in Missoula so we could get the birthday party spot set up. A little past noon, we were all ready and waiting. He walked in the door, and we surprised him--all ~30 of us! It was rather fabulous! We ate food, played games, and enjoyed each other's company. We set out early in the morning on Sunday for church in Butte, stopping in Divide for a quick French toast breakfast. It was nice to surprise a few people and to see everyone in general. Bill, I guess is my prayer guardian. That made me very happy. I think everyone should have someone as cool and tall as Bill Gibson as his/her prayer guardian. :-) I really appreciated the support everyone is giving me from back home! As I told them, I can FEEL it down here. Weird sounding, I know, but I can.

Weird.

What's left of the original Gob-(it's not weird, that's just what we called our group from high school)-hung out at SilverBow Pizza during lunch, and then I ran a few errands before returning to Divide to ride horses with Jillisa and Mom. Zephyr is ridiculously tall, and all the other horses are ridiculously fat! After seeing fence-rail excuses for horses down here for three months, I had forgotten how HUGE our horses seem! We finished off the night with a horse-themed movie and a family classic, "National Velvet".

Family.

Everyone had work and school on Monday, so I was left at home without any of my family around to distract me from packing. (I must admit I did a fair bit of distracting myself, though!) I made spicy chicken and couscous for dinner, and Caleb brought home his girlfriend, Heather, for dinner as well. I said my goodbyes to Mom, and then we hung out until pretty late, talking. I said the rest of my goodbyes the next day, and Dad took me to Bozeman with all my luggage. He dropped me off at the boys' house and we parted ways.

Boys.

The boys, Lily, Marcy, Naomi, and I ate Lily's delicious whiskey cake, listened to music, cut Marcy's hair, and drank Crum together as a goodbye party. Not bad. I had a bit more time during the following day to catch up with a Aubs and a few other friends and say my goodbyes before Lee and Marcy drove me out to the airport. And thus began my epic return to Honduras.

Honduras.

I didn't realize it would take me so much ridonculocity to get back to Honduras! I had two large luggage pieces, my guitar, my laptop, my backpack (containing everything I need to survive for quite some time), and my purse. I have never traveled with so much in my life, and hope to never have to again! However, it was rather miraculous that it all got there, undamaged, and free of charge! Both luggages were overweight, so Lee and Marcy helped me reorganize for about 30 minutes, and then the lady at the counter said that it would be cheaper for me to have one overweight than 3 luggages. But then with the amount the one bag was overweight, it would have cost me $400, rather than $300 for the third checked luggage. So then, I started pulling stuff out to have Lee and Samuel bring when they come down. And all at once, the lady said that she would let me check 3 pieces for free...all the way to San Pedro Sula-(I had two significant domestic layovers that technically cancel out the ability for them to check my bags through without a $50 fee)-so I sent the two luggages and my backpack. The first part of my travels.

Travels.

Never before in my travels have I missed a flight. And then I did. I was sitting in the Salt Lake Airport at Gate 6 for hours, slept on the floor for 1.5 hours, and realized I needed to use the restroom. My flight departure time was 12:50 AM, so about 11:45 PM, I left the gate to do so. On my way back, I decided to plug in my laptop for a few minutes at a recharge station, JUST down the hall from the gate. It is probably 40 feet away. I returned to the gate 20 minutes before departure time, since they warned us that they might start boarding 30 minutes before leaving. I figured with that herd, I might be lucky enough to be in the final boarding line. The plane was GONE. Not just door closed. Gone. And I was left. So, the desk workers told me I needed to reschedule my flight at this little phone kiosk thing, but when I got to it, the lady on the other line said that the desk workers needed to do that, since it was an international flight. It was by then 1 AM. There was no one left in the airport! So I apologized to the lady upon recalling her and explained my situation. She was a dear and rescheduled me anyway, somehow, for the same flight routine...24 hours later.

Later.

I figured I would just chill in the airport until later and then maybe go out an explore the town in the morning. But I was on my computer, checking my flight and such, and a rather creepy individual showed up at my gate and kept circling behind my computer screen. He asked me where to find a hotel, and I pointed him in the direction and kept working on my computer. I thought that had solved the problem, but he kept hovering. So I decided I didn't feel comfortable chillin' the airport after all, and booked a hotel room online. And then I had to wait for a taxi. He arrived about 3:30 AM. I got to sleep about 4:15 AM. I slept until noon.

Noon.

House keeping woke me up at noon. Growl. I forgot to put out the dumb little sign. *sigh Oh well. I got up, journaled, walked around my area for a bit, and then at 9 PM, I took the shuttle back to the airport and waited at the gate...with NO leaving...until departure. I made my flight!

Flight.

The connection flight in Atlanta was not until 9:30 AM, so I slept for about 3 hours. I arrived to San Pedro Sula and got out of customs about 12:30 PM, took a taxi to the Viana bus station, waited for the bus with bleary sleep-deprived eyes, and slept in absolute peace and comfort until we reached Ceiba at 4:45 PM. The bus was GLORIOUS!

Bus.

Norma, along with a departing Sandy, met me at the bus station and we went to eat at a delightful Chinese restaurant. I don't eat very regularly or normally when I travel, so it was most satisfying to eat delicious chicken curry I didn't have to prepare. And there was so much left over that I ate four more meals from my take-home portion! I took the next day to unpack. I ran sound on Sunday and readjusted to life here.

Here.

Now that I'm back here in Honduras, I have a few adjustments to make, some planning to accomplish, and one or two goals to aim toward. Here I go again...

January and a Wee Bit O' February

2010-02-28T06:13:00.003-07:00

This entry is long overdue, I know. And with that being said, I will skip formality and jump right into the past.

1-26-10

Tomorrow brings the presidential inauguration of Honduras. Yesterday, my dear friend Marilyn died, and I'm countries away. I feel helpless, though I know there's precious little I could do about any of it if I were in MT. Life keeps moving on, with or without me. Joy remains deep within me, but I feel isolated in my grieving.

The past couple weeks have passed me by relatively unnoticed. This year will be over before I realize I'm here! I went to the dump again on the 16th, helped lead worship at Fellowship and the missionary church, spent a lovely Sunday afternoon with Norma, and had a dance party with the girls while Louis was gone to Ceiba with Oscar-(Oscar is one of the guys who's worked at the bilingual school for a few years, and is now being trained to do some hospital work.)

Today, I gave my first history lecture on Ptolemy, Pyrrhus, and Cleomenes. At lunch, it was pouring rain, which meant drenching ourselves while we played bate-Honduran form of baseball-in the deluge. The McKenneys left to bring Thailand-bound Nate to the airport, and so Gabe invited us for dinner. We ate the tilapia he caught in their pond.

2-2-10

It's February, and I'm sweating all over! Even though the past week began poorly, it definitely got better toward the end. The kids had their final presentations on Greece. All of them made improvements from the last one, apparently, so that news was good news!

Deibyn took several of us up to a beautiful falls beyond Lucinda. A few of the girls were ill-prepared, so we had to care for a few "wounded," but everyone survived and had fun! The girls came over the "Pride and Prejudice" and we had tea and cookies, as Britishness of the film just begged to be steeped in British atmosphere.

2-18-10

Much can happen in the space of a handful of days! I am now leading worship with Amy and Louis every other Thursday, and some Sundays, and I'm loving jamming with them for practice! Louis plays the violin, and Amy guitar, so it's a lovely combo. On the first Saturday of the month, we had quite the trip to Ceiba: we rode in the rain in the back of the Aldens' pickup to the dump, played a chaotic game of Pato, Pato, Gonzo, bought and dispersed groceries for/to a few families, shopped frantically for our own groceries, ran after the bus with boexes of groceries on our heads, and as soon as we got back, I ate a rush dinner and headed to the cabildo to set up sound. What a day!

Norma had Joelle and I to lunch on Sunday, and we had a fabulous conversation. It was refreshing to go a bit deeper than customary getting-to-know-you ones. Later in the evening, we went to Renee's for a going away party for Gabe and Hannah, as they will be in the States for about 3 weeks. We began a house Bible study on Monday, which the Lents have kindly offered to lead, since few of us felt as though we'd have time to prepare one ourselves.

Valentine's Day arrived and brought with it good times and fond memories. After church, we made an elegant lunch before the rest of staff housing went to the last soccer game of the season in Balfate. I rode Sydney's horse to the beach-(a wee bit short of my dream of riding an Andalusian on the beach, but closer, anyway)-where a few of the Honduran kids and we played keep away in the waves. The Rumbaughs had movie night, and we watched "The Count of Monte Cristo". Mmmmmh!

We've had winter break all this week, so I've been catching up on sleep, communications, organization, and some planning. Now school begins again tomorrow, whether I'm ready or not. It will be good to see the kids again, regardless.

Thoughts On Colossians...

2010-02-19T08:36:00.003-07:00

The past several weeks, we’ve been going through the beginning chapters of Colossians, verse by verse. We’ve been examining the original Greek words, the historical setting, etc. Usually we get through a whole chapter; we only made it to verse four in this discussion, but for your benefit, I will type a larger section of chapter 3:

“If then you have been raised up with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth. For you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is our life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with Him in glory. Therefore consider the members of your earthly body as dead to immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed, which amounts to idolatry. For it is on account of these things that the wrath of God will come, and in them you also once walked, when you were living in them. But now you also, put them all aside: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and abusive speech from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, since you laid aside the old self with its evil practices, and have put on the new self who is being renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created him—a renewal in which there is no distinction between Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and freeman, but Christ is all, and in all.

And so, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever had a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you. And beyond all these things put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body; and be thankful. Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father” (Col. 3:1-17).

Ok, so this portion is addressing man in his fallen state, followed by how we ought to behave because we have been redeemed. Paul’s letter was addressed to the believers at Colossae who were Christians but weren’t living like it. (I wouldn’t know ANYTHING about that…) They kept falling back into the old habits, just as we do. He tells them to live as dead men, essentially. When we give our lives to Christ, we die to ourselves and then must live as reflections of Him, choosing to daily put to death our sinful thoughts and actions. The theory part of it, of course, sounds mostly straight forward, getting rid of “immorality, impurity, passion, evil desires, and greed”/”anger, wrath, malice, slander, and abusive speech.” One of the ladies observed that the first list of “bad behaviors” is more about outward behavior, but the second deals with our thoughts and motives of the heart.

Jeff asked everyone how they individually applied the theory, because he feels as though he is constantly struggling to make it a reality. I was interested to hear that almost every single answer boiled down to reading the Bible daily and asking God to show him/her how to apply what he/she learned. We decided that our relationship with Jesus drives our change. Before we “confess with [our] mouth that Jesus is LORD and believe in [our] hears that God raised Him from the dead”; we have nothing to work with in the shaping of our character. However, as redeemed—yet not perfected—humans, we are like clay in the Potter’s hands…not finished products, but at least a medium with which He can work.

One of the nurses said our old selves are dead, and we are new creatures, but we’re naked. We need to put on characteristics of our new selves: compassion, kindness, humility, meeknesss, patience, and forgiveness. And again, we’re back to daily choice, self discipline, and process. We have not been through the firing process yet—we are still in the wedging and throwing stage as lumps of clay in the good Master’s hands.

Chronicles of an Ant-Invaded Adventurer

2010-01-12T20:40:00.002-07:00

I love the intensity with which the rain plummets to the scarred earth beneath! The coolness here-disregarding the poor people here who feel as though they're freezing to death-has made my transition much easier. The lack of consistent internet is sometimes frustrating, but mostly everything else has been going well.

A little back tracking, due to the long-time lack of a functioning server:

I spent New Year's at Norma's with a Honduran family. They sang Christmas songs together while I searched desperately for an internet signal, and then we ate tomales and cake at midnight to celebrate. The McKenneys had me over for Christmas dinner the following day, served in courses of amazing dishes, and then we went to Río Coco the following day. I happened to be wearing a skirt-(no heart attacks please)-and didn't bother to change into my suit and shorts when I tried to cross to the other side to join Hannah on some rocks. So...I had a bit of an adventure scaling a terribly unstable gully, in my skirt, holding onto ferns and roots and hugging the loamy soil with every fibre of my body. I was attempting to climb up and over...but to avail. I climbed up, and then I slid/crawled down the same way I came up. I was filthy at the bottom, so I decided to swim across the river rather than rock hop where I crossed the first time.

New Year's Eve, a few of us had a small campfire on the beach and made s'more equivalents and then played games at Dr. Renee's.

I played keyboard at church for the first time with most of the McKenney family, and a few of the rest of staff housing residents returned due to the reduction of the plancha depth. It's not a quiet abode anymore; in many ways, I feel as though I'm back in the XA House, though with fewer responsibilities and residents.

During our first week of school, it rained most of the days, which led to massive ant invasions of the champa and our other buildings. We fended them off with trails of boric acid, but we still had repeated attacks. I think we've won...for now!

On Thursday, several of us went to Bejucál, a nearby river with hotsprings and a couple falls. Louis, Andrew, Nestor, Deybin, and I swam/rock hopped/hiked up to the falls just before dark, and then had to "darnos prisa" to get back before we lost all light. Andrew slipped and ruptured his stitched-up hand a bit, though the stitches held. It was a lovely adventure, though I felt like a wuss afterward because I was perhaps the most clumsy among my lithe companions. I would do it again in the drop of a hat!

Friday, we got out of school early and went into Ceiba with the McKenneys to drop Andrew off at the bus to San Pedro Sula, grocery shop, and go to see Avatar. The theater seats were some of the best I've ever been in, which is not hard, I guess, considering my previous theater experiences. :-)

We went to the beach on an overcast, slightly rainy Sunday afternoon to swim amidst the tumultuous waves. I am NOT used to swimming in waves. They ate me for lunch! Maybe I'll eventually figure it out. I guess I have some time to practice.

Louis and I are working on readjusting the school schedule for our 6 students in order to be productive and sane. I still think I'm learning more than the students!

On the brink of the edge of new beginnings...

2009-12-22T14:10:00.003-07:00

I've done it. I left all that is familiar to me and ventured out into the wide world alone, and yet not alone. I couldn't have made this transition without everyone else. I celebrated Christmas with my family on the night of the 16th, and it was lovely, though I was still packing in between festivities. I said farewell to everyone on Thursday morning, and Dad and Mom accompanied me to the airport. Lee, Brice, Aubrey, Katherine, Marcy, Tim, and Naomi came to see me off as well. That was awesome of you all, thanks!
I sat next to a very amiable chap on the flight to Denver, and we talked about a wide variety of topics: Italian roots, food, music, baseball, judo, tattoos, underwater welding, the navy, etc. I was alone for the next leg of my flight, and spent the early morning hours curled up in a chair next to Starbucks in the Houston airport only to discover there was a hotel en route to my leaving terminal. Oh well. More beans and rice, I guess. I sat in between a pilot and a stewardess on the last flight, and had pleasant conversation with both.
Iain, (a Scottsman who works at the children's center here next to the hospital), picked me, the Younts, and three hondureños up at the San Pedro Sula airport. We drove the many hours back, which was nice, as I got to see a bit more of the country than last trip. We dropped Brian off in La Ceiba, (my original flight destination, and the 3rd largest city in Honduras), and then the Younts, me, and then Iain only had two left.
I met my "el hotel" housemates, Louis, Julia, and Estelle. They had made dinner, mystery meat included, and they gave me a wonderful introduction to life down here.
Before I even had opportunity to thoroughly explore my living quarters, we left the next morning for Ceiba to do some grocery shopping and fill in for a lady who does a weekly visit to the kids living on the dump in the city. She is currently in the States for cancer treatment, (which has been successful thus far), and so we went in her stead.
We missed the 7 AM bus, so Iain lent us his vehicle, but it wouldn't start when we got to Ceiba after groceries, so Howard, (employed through the hospital, but lives in Ceiba), came and replaced the battery. We walked to the dump and Delmi, a young Honduran woman who decided to be a Christ follower three years ago as a result of friendship of the hospital staff, sang songs with the kids and then we had them color small squares of paper with the nativity scene on them. Estelle and Julia, (sisters, by the way), handed out pieces of bread with peanut butter, since the pastor of the little church built at the top of the dump was gone, and the normal food for the kids was also absent. They loved it, though I saw one little boy making the most hilarious face ever, twisting his lips this way and that in an attempt to handle the strange new texture of the peanut butter! I loved it!
We made it back to Loma de luz just in time for the missionaries' Christmas program. Several people sang duets, and choruses, and the kids and a few adults acted out a drama in small sketches. It was a nice program. Afterwards, some of us got together to watch a movie, and they chose "Nacho Libre". I was not thrilled, but I have to admit it was a bit more funny the 2nd time, for some reason.
Sunday morning, I went to church with the gringos, and we were doing a fairly rigorous study in Colossians. The McKenneys had a few of us over for lunch after that, and we spent most of the rest of the afternoon taping Christmas lights around the welded nativity figures that Jeff has been creating, one or two at a time, for a year or so. I helped set them up, and then returned home.
Yesterday, Louis, Estelle, and Julia left for the holiday, so Joelle and I were left on our lonesome. :-) So we got to know one another a bit, took a walk down to visit the children's center and talk with the McKenzies, (the Scottish family who runs the children's center). Joelle is house sitting for the Wards, so she invited me over there to make beans and rice and watch a chick flick.
Today, the internet was working again, (it's rather quick, when it's working!), so I've mostly cleaned house, organized life a bit, and worked on catching up on my communications. It's very tranquil here, and currently 73 degrees Fahrenheit. So much for a White Christmas!

European Escapades

2009-10-07T12:39:00.002-06:00

I've been on many family trips before, but never on a plane. And not with 7 of us. It was an experience, if nothing else! I moved all my earthly belongings home from Darby on the 22nd, dumped them into my new room/storage space upstairs in approximately 15 minutes, and then headed to Dillon to meet with an old friend. We visited for several hours before I realized my time was running short, so I continued my journey to Clark Canyon Reservoir to pick up Mateo's girlfriend, Jillisa. We made it back just in time for dinner, and then I had to pack and go to sleep. Not terribly early, of course. My phone alarm decided not to function the next morning, since I don't have cell service out here, so Jillisa and I were close to half an hour late to Helena, resulting in her missing her flight. She was able to get a later one, so I left her there and zoomed back to Butte, where I met up with the rest of my travel companions and we headed to Bozeman for our first leg o the journey. Getting a bunch of travel greenhorns through security, (even at Bozeman), was memorable. Dad had a western shirt on with all those snaps, plus a gargantuan belt buckle, plus two metal hips to get through. The boys didn't unload their passports or phones into the containers, and they had to have their huge contact solution bottles tested for dangerous chemicals. Oy!
We met Jillisa in Minneapolis and made it to London without much in the way of excitement. Seth, Caia, and the kids met us there and we drove in our 2-vehicle caravan up to RAF Lakenheath. The first night, we just sort of chilled, settled in, grilled burgers and steaks, and went to sleep.
All the females shopped for groceries for the entirety of the trip, since each one had two days to cook for. The guys were on teams for dish duty. We went to the market at Bury St. Edmunds on Saturday and browsed around. After church on Sunday, Mom, Caleb, Seth, and I went with Taylor, (staying with Caia and Seth while her mom was in the U.S.), to see her horse. What a strange system. Both she and her mom pay 20 pounds a week for the privilege of watering, feeding, grooming, training, etc. They are leasing the horses, basically, and when they no longer can care for them, someone else "adopts" one. That's spendy!
We went gokarting on Monday. It was fun, but I wish I would have figured out NOT to use my breaks at all, or much less, at least. Seth beat everyone, of course, and had lapped each kart at LEAST twice by the end of 30 laps.
On Tuesday, we loaded into the vehicles and drove to Stonehenge, then Glastonbury Abbey, and then through Bath, though we didn't have time to stop there. We had run out of daylight and travel-tolerance on the part of one Titus and one Chloe of the Seth Salusso family. The Abbey was quite majestic and peaceful. I wandered mostly by myself and found the fish pond. They had some strange fish in there, and I found a lovely solace standing along the edge. We stayed at a hotel on RAF Fairford, which was a fabulous way to stay somewhere. I got to cook that night, which was interesting in such a small kitchen, but the couscous turned out alright anyway. We went to Monmouth, Wales the next day, which was fun. We had lunch in a former coach stop, and chatted with a gentleman there. We strolled around a bit, stopped in a few shops, and went to the local history museum, which was largely dedicated to the life of Admiral Horatio Nelson. On our way out of town, we walked over Monnow Bridge, which is the oldest bridge of its design in all of Britain. We drove directly back to RAF Lakenheath, with a bit of a confusing detour through Cambridge, as a section of highway was closed for maintenance, and all the detours just looped back to the closed highway.
Thursday was a rest day, but Mom, Caia, Jillisa, and I went to the nearby village of Thetford to walk along the river a bit and browse another English village. They had swans and other fowl on the banks, and Mom had her hand gnawed on by a swan!
Friday was our London tour. We watched the changing of the guard at Buckingham, stood outside Westminster Cathedral, wondering why it looked nothing like our idea of Westminster Abbey, (not until after we left London did we realize our mistake), went through the V & A Museum, (free, and probably the only thing I really enjoyed in London...except of course for one to come), and then the Sherlock Holmes museum at 221b Baker Street! We brought the stuffed The Cheat, (see characters from homestarrunner.com for explanation), with us on all our journeys and photographed him at famous places. The dressed up guard at the museum entrance was kind enough to pose with the Cheat, even though he had NO clue as to what he was. So I gave him the address to corrupt his mind. :0)
We drove north on Saturday to relax and see a crumbly castle. We went to Castle Rising Castle, the best-preserved castle in England. It was probably most people's favorite part of the trip, with the continuation of our trip to the beach at Hunstanton. Queen Isabella spent the remainder of her life there, after playing a part in the murder of her husband, King Edward II. It was really interesting. The wind made our trip to the beach fiercely beautful. It was a bit cold for the little guys, so we found a little pub area and had some hot chocolate. Mmmm!
We recovered, packed, and had fun on Sunday, complete with a solid game of Taboo. Unfortunately, Seth had to sleep early, since he started his shift at 1 AM. I was up to see him off, trying to combine everyone's photos, (a combined effort of over 1,000), and I finally made it sleep at 2 AM. Then we were up and off to the airport on a typically rainy, misty English morning.
We got back to the Bozeman airport just before midnight, and we were all VERY ready to be home and in bed. However, some lady had a flat tire, so Dad helped change it, and then I had to pick up my car in Butte, complete with frosted windows. I've missed my favorite season! We got back around 2 in the morning, and a very bleary-eyed Craig came to greet us. He had stayed to watch the place for us during our absence. We talked a little bit before everyone else disappeared to their respective rooms and I crashed on the couch. However, by that point, I wasn't sleepy. But my throat was scratchy and my nose was a bit stuffy. So, trying not to wake the other couch-dwellers, I didn't get to sleep until almost 3:30, and woke up for some dang reason at 5:30 AM! I thought I would just get a spot of tea, use the bathroom, and head back for some more z's, but no. Dad got up for work just after 6 AM, Craig just after that, and Craig and I chatted until he left for work, and then Mom got up. I was doomed. So after picking up Jillisa from Helena, shopping for a few groceries, and coming back for dinner with her family, I started a rapid decline from consciousness. It was lovely.
I had big plans to accomplish much in the moving into my new room upstairs process, but have done nothing but try to load pictures and shower. It's glorious. Here's to tomorrow!

And There Is A Season...

2009-04-27T23:32:00.002-06:00

...for everything under heaven. And now is my season for endings and new beginnings...again. Six years of university now securely under my belt, and the whole world before me; whatever will I do? Which adventure will I embark upon?
My grandmother finally passed away last week, so I am without grandparents now. Aunt Ernie also died. It's as if my whole childhood is dying. I guess it's good to completely move on to the present moment and leg of my life journey. Death of any sort always makes me ponder. What stories will people tell about my life when I'm gone? What legacy will I leave? Will I live my moments and opportunities to the fullest, or will I settle for the ordinary?
And since I'm teetering on the edge of "career" choices, or at least the next step in my life, I'm trying to decide where I want to go and how to get there...and when to go once I figure out the aforementioned dilemmas. Not worrying, just wanting to see the next step. It's kind of like tango, I guess. As the follower, I have a tendency to try to predict the leader's step and try to get there too fast. A helpful individual reminded me to balance, and wait until the last possible moment to transition my weight to the next step. I'm impatiently trying to guess what's going to happen to me in the next year or so, and in doing so, I'm neglecting that elegant pause and reflection, feeling the lead, and transitioning to the next move with grace, rather than with clumsy blundering.
In truth, I really enjoy being done, though, as one friend warned, being done with so much idle time is starting to make me itch with the lack of purpose. I hate not having something useful to do. It wears on the nerves and suffocates my passion. What have I been doing with this empty space in my schedule? Well, a few great things have come of it. I have been taking fiddle lessons for almost a month now. I love making measurable progress! I also got back into tango and just finished a 3-day workshop with an instructor from Argentina. I am reconnecting with friends I've neglected all semester. I spent time with my sister-in-law and nieces/nephew when possible. I went back to Ophir School to sub for my English cooperating teacher when she got married and visit "my kids".
The tentative plan for closing this door and opening the next is to move to Darby, MT for the summer with my sister Laura and bro-in-law, and see if I am accepted to the Honduras teaching position I've applied for, or in some other location...maybe Columbus, MT? I'm having a harder time leaving Bozeman than I thought I would, but we'll see what the summer does. Maybe the change in locale will help clear my vision a bit.
Alright, there's an update. Maybe I'll try to think of something witty and enjoyable to read before another 6 months has gone by. Ciao!

Legacy of a Name (Conclusion)

2008-12-08T12:22:00.001-07:00

Massismo D’Azeglio, an Italian statesman, once said of the newly-formed country of Italy, “We have made Italy; now we must make Italians. To make Italy out of Italians one must not be in a hurry.” I feel as though the search for my own identity is very similar to D’Azegli’s statement; “We have made a family, now we must make them Salussos. To make Salussos of a family, one must not be in a hurry.” It has taken three generations of Salussos in the United States to make me. I am the product of culture translated over oceans and time, and, though I have searched to discover my identity, I have learned that I am an unfinished product. I change moment to moment, piecing together the clues to who I am, who I was, and who I may be in the future. I run this leg of the identity journey, but I change, moment to moment, taking my time in fulfilling the next portion of the Salusso legacy.

Legacy of a Name (Barney Salusso)

2008-12-08T12:20:00.001-07:00

Barney opened his eyes as the morning light peeked timidly in through the window over the East Ridge. The miners in Butchertown were switching shifts again, calling greetings to one another in the streets. Barney rolled out of bed and stretched. He splashed water in his face from the basin and then carefully dressed for another day of delivery, carefully putting on his starched white shirt and tie, like he did every morning.

The garden at Bull Run was particularly abundant this summer, and he was grateful. He walked into the kitchen and set about making his customary pancakes for breakfast. His little robin chirped in his cage. Barney chuckled quietly to himself. So nice, his little “pettirosso” or robin. She loved pancakes. He broke off a few crumbs and fed it to the bird between the wires of the cage. It was time to let her out for the day. She would come home just before the sun fell behind the western horizon. He opened the cage, and she flew out the window, and Barney continued getting ready for work.

Not much is known about my great grandfather Barney before he came to America. He did not talk much of Italy or of his childhood. His grandchildren and daughter conjecture that it was too hard to leave his family and homeland to keep bringing it up. I know that he was also a hard worker from a young age. When was 14, he led a cow over the Alps into France to be sold. His only daughter, Mary Calcaterra, thinks he came from a family of four boys and one girl. One of his brothers moved to Argentina and raised a large family there. Apparently, from 1870-1900, the standard of living in rural Italy fell dramatically due to a reduction in shipping charges. North American and Argentine produce flooded the market, sending Italy into an agricultural depression. Families were spending three quarters of their income on food, and this amount was barely enough to avoid starvation. In Northern Italy, most of the rural inhabitants lived solely on polenta. However, this meager diet caused severe vitamin deficiency, which then resulted in a disease called “pellagra,” characterized by insanity and death (Oxford History of Italy).
If the poor standard of living didn’t bring Barney to America, he may have come as a result of the lack of work. He came to America just as Italy was undergoing its second industrial revolution, which involved the development of hydroelectrical industry. Barney, however, would not have been part of that revolution. Giovanni Giolitti was the leading statesman at that time, following King Umberto’s assassination in July of 1900. He allowed, for the first time, the unions of rural laborers freedom to organize. Two hundred thousand laborers showed up for the first strike, protesting the work conditions and pay on behalf of their starving, dying families. It is very interesting to note that Barney moved from a country of “separate government and strong local identity” and labor unions to Butte, Montana—a city of warring political powers and strong local identity and heritage (Lintner). He also left an agricultural depression in Italy, only to find another in Montana, which lasted from 1910-1940, mixed with the Great Depression. But Butte had more opportunity than much of the rest of the country for a man of vision and ambition.
My great grandfather made it to Butte and stayed at the Tamietti boarding house. One day, in 1910, he was riding southeast of Brown’s Gulch, and he happened upon Bull Run Gulch. He fell in love with the gulch and proceeded to homestead it with George Johnson. There is some speculation in the family that he had tried hard rock mining briefly, but couldn’t stand to be underground. He and Johnson piped a spring into Bull Run, dug a well, and built a house out of recycled timber from a house they had demolished in Walkerville. He was handy at carpentry, plumbing, and mechanics, and clearly had a green thumb. He started a large garden of cabbage, lettuce, carrots, etc., and as soon as it produced, he would cart the vegetables in to sell them to the miners living in the boarding houses.
When he had made enough money, he sent for a bride from Italy. Margarita Chiono Roncoglioni arrived from Priacco, Italy, roughly 56 miles south of Barney’s hometown in Pinerolo. Both towns are located at the foot of the Piedmont, but would have been fairly isolated before the age of vehicles and highways. Margarita, or Maggie, arrived under the agreement that, if she didn’t want to marry Barney upon meeting him, she would return directly to Italy. Obviously, she chose to stay. Barney was a good-natured, patient man, with a quiet humor.
He was not a man of great stature, but he made up for it in hard work. Maggie became the matriarchal head of the family on account of her strong personality and controlling nature.
At that time, the Salussos were strictly Catholic, and attended mass at St. Lawrence Church every Sunday possible. After mass, the family would return home and enjoy “bagna calda”, a dish of hot butter, olive oil, garlic, and anchovies. Business must have been fairly good for the family, because Barney was able to purchase the small house in Butchertown in 1921. And Mary Calcaterra remembers that when she and George were very young, they would each receive a whole dollar for Christmas. She would buy Maggie a box of chocolate-covered cherries and George would purchase a pouch of Prince Albert pipe tobacco for Barney with his gift. My family has a long tradition of taking care of each other, in all circumstances.
They also know how to make do with that they have on hand. In a world before refrigerated delivery trucks, Barney cut the back out of a car, filled it with ice, and covered it with a canvas to keep the dairy and vegetables from spoiling. Salussos are a resourceful, pragmatic family.

Legacy of a Name (George Salusso)

2008-12-08T12:10:00.007-07:00

A large part of Dad’s drive was a result of his relationship with his father, George. By the time Steve arrived in ’52, George had accumulated heart problems and lost interest in working. Steve’s youngest sister Carol described Papa as being a “great worker, a marginal manager, and a man who sought what he could not achieve.” His wife, Ruth, described him in a poem titled “The Boxer”:

My husband is a boxer----------

Not the fisticuffer kind;

But all his papers, legal things,

And things that he must find.

He averages one box a week,

But when stacks begin to fall,

There comes the question,

Where to put it? Front porch,

Back porch? HALL?

When something is lost, confusion reins,

Each box must then be checked.

And I must keep my wifely charm,

So he won’t feel henpecked!

I love this busy boxer,

Would love to help him with each chore;

But I admit, this boxing bit

Bugs me more and more.

Will the boxes win the victory?

Will they usurp our place?

Oh Papa, what’s the answer?

With this I rest my case.

Earlier in his life, however, George, (or Papa to us), worked a lot, and had a broad network of friends and acquaintances. Like my father, he was born in the time of war and conflict. From a global perspective, WWI was tearing cultures and families apart. More locally, Butte was in the aftermath of the Copper King Feud and suffering from the Great Depression. By 1915, there were more than 2.6 people per square mile in Butte (Montana Legacy), increased from the 30,470 in 1900 (Burlinghame).

The year Papa arrived, the Daly and Rockefeller Amalgamated Copper Mines Company changed its name back to the Anaconda Copper Mining Company. The first of two major hard rock mining disasters occurred that same year; the major catastrophe of the Speculator Fire in 1917, which claimed at least 167 lives, predated the fire in the Pennsylvanian Mine the following year.

Even though by then, WWI was over, Butte remained in turmoil. The North Butte Mining Company suggested that the Spec Fire was the fault of pro-German sympathizers, which caused the first major strike in 39 years. The Spec Fire turned out to be the Kryptonite of Manus Duggan, who gave his life to save numerous other miners. So Steve and George were born under starkly similar circumstances, though 37 years apart.

The Salusso family lived on the homesteaded farm in Bull Run until 1921, when Barney bought a small home in Butchertown in order to be closer to his work. They leased Bull Run Gulch to a Korean family. George began his short school career at the Sherman School. On his way to school every morning, he would deliver milk bottles, tied in a dishtowel, to customers on Daly Street, and then pick them up on the way home. He became the target of neighborhood bullies, so he learned to run, which helped him when he played baseball at noon recess.

In 1926, when George was 11, the Korean family moved out of Bull Run Gulch, adding to the work load of the Salusso family. Barney made George a pair of cross-country skis out of barrel staves to travel during the winter between the ranch in Bull Run, Butchertown, and Walkerville. During the summer, they used a horse and wagon to deliver milk and vegetables into customers in Walkerville and Butte. In 1927, they bought a car, and George had to drive the delivery vehicle to the boarding houses where the miners lived. He made friends easily, and was very gregarious with strangers. In those days, the miners often referred to each other by nicknames alone, so Papa, though he knew many people, rarely knew their real names. He never smoked or drank as a result of seeing the miners in those boarding houses working so hard in such abject conditions and then spending their hard-earned living on liquor and cigarettes. He saw the sickness that resulted from their lifestyle and chose to live his own differently.

He was too busy working to finish high school. He started his first year at Butte High School, but dropped out to continue his dairy and vegetable deliveries. His future wife, Ruth Richards, graduated from Butte High in 1933. They were family friends, and knew each other from gradeschool at Sherman. He took her to the prom at the pavilion at the Columbia Gardens, in the years before the Berkley Pit, and, after a three-year engagement, they married on May 22, 1939.

In 1941, George and Barney purchased a farm in Divide to raise hay for the dairy cows. “They hired a man to irrigate the hay then when the hay was dry then mowed it with the horse mower, ran a rake to put it in rows, then the buck rake with two horses pushed it into the stack” (Richards). George had to be everywhere at once during haying season. When WWII broke out, he and Barney planted 35 acres of potatoes because enough of the right crop planted for the war effort kept the farmers from having to fight overseas. In 1945, Barney and George ordered a $20,000 dairy barn kit from Wisconsin. At that time, it was state-of-the-art to have milking machines in it.

A year later, George inherited the farm when Barney died after having a simple surgery to fix a hernia. The doctors did not know he was a bleeder; they fixed the hernia, but he bled to death. George and his then family of four children moved to a rented house in Walkerville. In 1953, due to a carelessly tossed cigarette, the Walkerville Dairy burned down. In 1955, George left his partnership in the Nash car business and moved the family back to Divide. The Salusso family and Tony Calcaterra, Papa’s only sister’s husband, continued milking cows at Divide and pasturing the dry ones at Bull Run. Shortly thereafter, they stopped delivering door to door, and instead separated the cream and hauled it to the Divide Railroad Station to be shipped to the Dillon Creamery. They sold the remaining cows in 1964 and George took up roofing and construction.

Papa had to have a heart valve replaced in 1976, (one of Dad’s excuses to go to Spokane), and was told by his doctor that he had already had twelve to thirteen minor heart attacks. It seems as though a few times while he was up on ladders or after he had eaten too much food, he would pass out and his face would turn black. The surgery helped some, but his heart continued to bother him.

He was a brilliant salesman, with grand schemes and little or no follow-through. He bought a railcar full of fertilizer spreaders and sold them, and the leftovers he would use or store. Apparently, he did this for many items needed on the farm. He wouldn’t buy one of anything, but a lot of everything and then try to sell the excess. When he demolished buildings, he would bring home the leftovers. To this day, we have the skeletal remains of countless demolition projects from around the southwestern portion of the state.

George was raised “fanatically” (Calcaterra) Catholic, but once on his own, he never took the time to pursue any religion. He married a dedicated Baptist woman, but after their marriage, he never set foot in a church again. My own father and mother brought their family to church, sent us to Bible camps during the summers, and involved us in youth group during high school. Our interest in religion was more a result of the influence of my mom and Ruth, (Richards), than George. He was over-churched, and I guess my Dad felt under-churched, so he worked at intertwining God back into our legacy.

Papa died of a heart attack on Thanksgiving Day in 1985 when he saw his house in Divide on fire. Hunters who saw the flames arrived in time to save a few items of furniture and belongings, but the house burned to the ground. So I never got to know Papa, but I hear that he loved the grandchildren he lived to hold. Dad describes him as having a gentle, loving nature in his later years, though he rarely showed it to his own family in prior times. Salussos are a gregarious, many-talented people who love to meet people and to try new things.

Legacy of a Name (Stephen Salusso)

2008-12-08T12:03:00.003-07:00

In 1952, the U.S. developed the first hydrogen bomb, following on the heels of Britain’s atom bomb. The Korean War would still continue for four years before it ended. Hemmingway and Steinbeck both published novels, Jonas Salk developed a vaccine for polio, and Superman died. And while all the world writhed in conflict and birthed major events, Stephen Bernard was born in Butte, MT on January 18th. When he was four, his family moved out to Divide, MT. My father has lived an entire life of driven pursuit of provision.
Even as a very young child, he was given many responsibilities. He told me of the summers he acted as a human fence, guarding the fields and garden from bovine invasion. He also helped feed and milk the cows while he was in grade school at Divide School. In addition to the hay, they fed potatoes to the cows. His mom, Ruth, would drive into Butte and pick up a carload of people to help with the potato harvest, and then fill large sacks with the tubers and pour them down ramps. Dad and the other kids would have to pick out the rocks and sort the good potatoes form the seed ones. They were careful, but still sometimes small rocks would hide among the potatoes, and Dad would occasionally have to dodge the rocks pinging off the barn walls as the cows coughed them up. Papa sold all the cows in 1967 when Dad was a sophomore at Butte High School.
Dad began cross-country skiing in high school, and competed in that sport actively through the end of his senior year and on through college. He went to Montana Tech briefly before transferring to MSU-Bozeman to complete his major in Range Science. He also coached the MSU cross-country team for a year after he had finished college.

Tech Skiers to compete

A U.S. Ski Association Northern Division meet this weekend in Dillon will test the skills of the Montana Tech Nordic ski team.
Competition will be Saturday and Sunday at Maverick Mountain (Rainy Mountain) and will pit the Tech team against other squads including Montana State University and the University of Montana.
Tech coach Dr. Paul Sawyer, assistant professor of biological sciences, reports Tech’s Nordic skiers have much better depth and balance than last year. He predicts MSU will be hard to beat, but he admits he knows little about the UM skiers.
MONTANA TECH possesses one of the top skiers in the Northern Division of the U.S. Ski Association in Steve Salusso, a sophomore from Divide. Salusso won the Northern Division cross-country championship last year and recently participated in the Olympic training camp at Big Sky.
Two members of last year’s Northern Division junior national squad, Tom Downey and Rich Barnett, both Butte freshmen, also are on the Tech team. Sawyer said Downey could develop into “one of the best skiers in the Northern Division.”
Rounding out the cross-country team are two other local freshmen, Dick Hofacker and Steve Johnston.
A jumping team, composed of Mike Patterson, a sophomore from Divide, Downey and Barnett, also will compete in the meet.

TRAINS FOR COMPETITION-Steve Salusso, left, star Montana Tech Nordic skier, prepares for this weekend’s U.S. Association Northern Division meet at Maverick Mountain near Dillon. Following Salusso is Tech coach Dr. Paul Sawyer. (Staff Photo by Cliff Moore)

Following the meet Sawyer and Salusso have a busy schedule as members of the Northern Division team. They will enter a 15-kilometer meet in Lyndonville, Vt., Dec. 27, and will compete in the U.S.S.A. men’s relay championship Dec. 29, also at Lyndonville.
SALUSSO WILL engage in the 15-kilometer Olympic tryouts Dec. 31, at Lake Placid, N.Y. Competing in these races with Salusso will be two other Montana skiers, Steve Settle, and Brian Troth of MSU.
Closing the holiday racing schedule for the Montana Tech pair will be a 30-kilometer meet at Craftsbury Common, Vt., Jan. 2.

Stephen had met and married my mom, Joan Ripley, by August 1977. They met at various ski competitions and, when Mom went to Spokane to finish her schooling in Medical Technology, Dad just “happened” to find reasons to travel to Spokane to see her. My oldest sister was born in 1979, and the next sister, thirteen months after that. The eldest was a toddler just in time to go to the Lake Placid Olympics with my parents, when Dad worked there in 1980.
Right out of college, Dad had grand plans to work for the Bureau of Land Management, but the only openings at the time were in Las Vegas. Instead, he got a job at the pump station in Divide, Montana. During the winter of 1986, he picked up a temporary job at the Montana State Highway Department. This temporary job became a permanent one, and he continues to work for the State today.
Dad inherited the farm because he was the only one of his siblings that showed interest in staying and finding a way to make it produce. He felt responsible for carrying on the legacy that his grandfather Barney had begun. George had worn himself out with working by the time Dad was born, so Dad picked up the slack and pressed forward. Even in college, he went home on the weekends to irrigate and do whatever else needed to be done. During the first few years of his marriage, he would keep his mom’s woodstove stocked and burning, even though Papa was still alive.
My father is the sort of person who serves others, regardless of the cost to himself. When I was young, we took several road trips to visit family friends. The eight of us Salussos would pile into our old blue twelve passenger van and trek across the country. It seemed that whenever we would vacation, Dad would still be working. If our hosts’ faucet leaked, he’d fix it. If the roof was in ill-repair, he’d patch it. Garage need cleaning? Steve was on the job. The year I was born, in 1984, Dad decided to upgrade the irrigation system on the farm, though we were still living on the twenty acres across the Bighole River from the main property. The hand line sprinkler system increased coverage and crop production. We have grown alfalfa mixed hay for as long as I can remember. When we had to replant, we would start with oats, and the oats would provide adequate shade for the young alfalfa crop. After a year or so, the alfalfa would again constitute the main crop.
Several years ago, Dad began to suffer acute pain in his lower back. He had to have both hips replaced, though he was stubborn for years, and put the surgery off for as long as possible. He has very little trust in doctors, and often said he’d go to the doctor when he could no longer walk at all. Hard work and stubborn independence is in his blood, the blood he gave to me. Salussos are stubbornly independent hard workers.

Legacy of a Name (Prologue)

2008-12-08T12:02:00.000-07:00

Prologue
I am born of earth and sweat and passionate ambition, but who am I? My surname is Salusso; would not this rose, by any other name, perhaps be a different flower altogether? Our names carry history and definition.
My great grandfather first came to America from Pinerolo, Italy in 1907 seeking better work, and forged a new life here. I know him through documents, through dusty photographs, and stories, and I know him because his blood runs in my veins. I seek to bring to life these characters of my past, to give them voice and to research the border between factual history and historical fiction.
In this project, I will trace the lives and histories of my great grandfather Barney Salusso and his bride Margarita Chiono Roncoglioni, their son George and his wife Ruth, and, finally, my own parents. My intent is to discover how the marriage of authorial voice and oral tradition, history and sensory memory, have birthed my own identity as an American devoid of la lingua di origine of my ancestors, but full of adventure, rich with family tradition, and striving to continue this legacy of time and fluid existence.

Random Procrastinating Note

2008-12-03T21:59:00.003-07:00

OK, so a crazy random occurrence...occurred today. I was sitting in ICT, trying to cram for my Arabic exam tomorrow, write my final written and oral presentations for the same class, and trying to organize my thoughts on life and love and happiness and then the.....(Houseplant Song, anyone??), when all of a sudden, I was distracted by an elderly lady sitting by herself at one of the tables. I thought of my grandma, and was struck by a strange protective feeling towards the woman. Anyway, after a bit, I resumed my studies, only to be distracted again by a younger woman, (presumably her daughter), asking in a perceivably irritated manner if she would be able to walk out to the curb. I didn't want to interfere, so I kept pretending oblivion, until I saw the old lady standing by the door, alone, for a long period of time, barely able to support her own weight. So I went and asked if she would like some assistance out to the car...afraid of a slip and broken hip or something. And to my delight, she responded in a most favorable manner, and accepted my offer. I saw a gleam of very distinguished beauty in her grateful eyes.
It made my day.
I wonder a lot about old people. I will be one of them one day. I wonder at their life stories. What adventures did they live at my age? What do they think about their lives, looking back? Do they have regrets that overshadow the good memories? Were they college graduates? Did they give up their personal dreams to support their families? Human life is so frail, and yet so perseverant! I am awed at these glimpses of other microcosmic dramas. So many lives, so many pains, so many joys...how does God endure all these extreme emotions all at once, and not shatter into a bazillion pieces of pulsing pain and confusion? That's how I feel sometimes. Like I cannot understand, organize, or label my feelings, and therefore I will explode if I don't find an outlet.
OK, I'm done now. Back to Arabic.

The Battlefield

2008-08-10T00:02:00.000-06:00

She looked out the rose-stained window and watched the rain drip
Down like torrents of slippery, hot blood,
And wondered when the last bit of rain
Would fall, plummeting down to the ground in silent agony,
Vastly alone among the thousands of comrades;
She wondered most about the man she missed.

And he was in the middle of the smoke and mist,
Fighting for his life, his breathing labored and sweat a steady drip,
Wondering how many had fallen in his company of comrades,
Lying on the weeping ground, covered in their own blood,
Fear tormented his soul, and so he fought in agony,
Blinded by the salty mist of tears and of rain.

They had been battling for days, sloshing in the rain
Fighting blindly with dark shadows in the swirling mist,
Their muscles groaning almost audibly with agony;
Bone-chilling weather slowing their movements like a cold molasses drip,
And turned cold the once hot and boiling blood
That surged through the veins of the fighting comrades.

But the men had not always been such close comrades,
Friendship had been forged from training missions in the rain.
And through hardship, they had formed a bond tighter than blood,
As each one fell, he felt as though a part of his soul he missed,
As if a frozen, lethal poison was infiltrating his veins in a slow drip,
Leaving him to suffer in a crippling agony.

And all at once, he felt a new, tangible form of agony
Enter his body below his ribs. He fought to protect the comrades
Who were still standing, but weakened steadily as the dark red drip
Soaked through his clothing layers to mix with the rain.
And though he fought still, his eyes began to mist.
He thought of her then, as the world went red as with blood.

She was still standing there, looking through the windows that looked like blood,
Not knowing whether he would live or die, her heart in agony
Mourning already the part of her heart she missed.
Not seeking comfort from sympathetic comrades,
But waiting out the unjust battle, fought against an unjust reign,
Defying the corrupt power flow, trying to choke it to a drip.

Her lover, soaking in pooled blood, lie on the chilled earth with his comrades,
The fierce and futile agony of battle over, his body carefully cleansed by the rain;
A burial ceremony lost in the obscurity of the mist, and his mortality fell to earth as a stilled drip.

Love Sonnet Cycle: English/Italian

2008-08-09T23:58:00.000-06:00

Mist

My love is vague and fleeting after rain,
Like twilight he is neither day nor night,
I often dream, beneath the stars have lain,
In hope he might transpire upon my sight.

Most oft he blurs the visage trapped behind
His cloak of swirling droplets. Just as I
Reach out to touch, he disappears on wind;
He comes and goes upon my ling’ring sigh.

On silv’ry threads he shivers, then he shines,
With kiss of light from quiv’ring gentle breeze
To tease and tug upon the lethal lines
But won’t be caught; entrapped by none of these.

To see my love, await the coming dawn,
When fears and all obscurities are gone.

The Silhouette

When rays of sleepy sun come peek upon
The stretched horizon found to east of shore,
When darkness, fear, and dusk are found no more,
The morning after night is hailed the dawn.
My love to me is slowly taking on
A shape I see I think I saw before,
The vapored sunlight bright as gold does pour
Around his formless face. And with fear gone,

I revel dancing, gleaming soft delight;
We sway with hands entwined like rosy vine.
My love is dew that nestles close to grass,
Resplendent dashing valor blinds my sight,
In tiny glimpses, see this love of mine,
In air suspended. Time does cease to pass.

Graduation

2008-08-09T23:57:00.000-06:00

The writhing worm is scared of those things new,
Ling’ring at a crossroads, baffled by a call;
Butterfly soars on wings of gold and blue.

Possibilities shine like honeyed dew,
Lurking mouths await the line to sink and fall;
The writhing worm is scared of those things new.

Empty wings fill with foretaste out and through,
Perched on the chrysalis, she hopes to enthrall;
Butterfly soars on wings of gold and blue.

With fears the early bird will her pursue,
Grasp her in its fearsome beak, and make her fall;
The writhing worm is scared of those things new.

Early morning sun, a breathtaking view,
New horizons education’s flame recall;
Butterfly soars on wings of gold and blue.

Blind to which joys or terrors may ensue,
Eager to begin, no matter what befall;
The writhing worm is scared of those things new,
Butterfly soars on wings of gold and blue.

A Perfect Lady

2008-08-09T23:47:00.000-06:00

She sits at the airport waiting for her flight;
Butterflies have waged a war against her insides
As she has never made this trip before.

Iron bangles graced her wrists and vermillion stained her feet and forehead.

The butterflies have been replaced by daggered hunger
But the menu lists “oxtail soup”, and she
Cannot see the choices for fear of the “Other.”

Iron bangles graced her wrists and vermillion stained her feet and forehead.

In place of oxtail, she eats curried eggs
With her new husband. He is a stranger
To her, and she a stranger to this land.

Iron bangles graced her wrists and vermillion stained her feet and forehead.

Her hands craft letter sent home with love
While he catches up on world with Boston Herald
And together, they are far apart still.

Iron bangles graced her wrists and vermillion stained her feet and forehead.

On a whim, he takes her to visit
The conventional lady who sheltered him upon his arrival
He waits for his bride to be criticized.

Iron bangles graced her wrists and vermillion stained her feet and forehead.

Age-blurred eyes are blind to the red part, the
Red mark on the forehead, the many
Bracelets. Her ankles are properly covered.

She laughed. He laughed.
They learned to
Laugh and cry together.

Los años del hambre (The Years of Hunger)

2008-07-30T14:36:00.000-06:00

At the hand of the Dictator many souls died,

And the poor noble Spaniards started losing their pride.

So their children were kidnapped to an island offshore,

Brainwashed to a fascist legend and lore.

A few citizens fled to the hills to resist;

For their efforts the soldiers refused to desist.

The brave rebels attempted guerilla warfare,

Often beaten by the forces found there.

The same General was seen to be hero or damned,

Depending on blessings or beatings men had.

All Republicans ran and they fled for their lives,

Had to burn all their papers and send off their wives.

At the end of his reign, the country was torn,

Ravaged by years of the ache it had borne.

Countless War Children with no hope of home,

And a country divided, the marrow from bone.

Words

2008-07-30T14:33:00.000-06:00

Silken streams of words insinuate

Meaning through lines of limerick, loathing, or love,

Sending senses whirling, swirling,

Suddenly, all senses are soaked in sound.

And now, scripted scents ascend upward,

Inodorous without description of smell,

No cinnamon, saffron, or sage gracing literary nostrils,

Without a scribe to script them.

Ebony sable of animal or

Landscaped brick layers illuminating

Sensile stirrings, sensuous symbols

Soaring so seductively over essays.

Irresistible lexical appetizers indulge

The luscious lemon-lime longings, leaving

Savory sensations simmering

Slowly on the tongue of sensorium.

Effervescent auras of amber

Luster sparkle, illuminating lengthy

Scores of scaled salmon swimming

Upstream in their journey to spawn.

Audible essence ambles along the avenue of inner ear,

Lilting laughter jostling in lively lines like

Sweet images of summer summonings

Of shade, and of sun, and of sound.

Rushing streams of words accentuate

Meaning in lines of lithesome lore,

Stimulating emotion and speculation,

Texts causing splashes of sonance.

Strings of language, waiting for oral acoustic,

Words sonorous in syllabic silence.

2008-07-30T14:30:00.001-06:00

Haiku

Her form is lovely
Unknowing of her beauty
Weeping starvation

Placid waters sleep
Ancient rainbows, not of gold,
Feed on drops of sky

Sky blood red at night
The air is thick and choking
Someone tossed a butt

The Ballad of the Blue Moon Saloon

2008-07-30T14:17:00.005-06:00

Southwest Montana has an ol’

Small bar near railroad tracks.

It has a lot of spunk and soul,

Near full of Jills and Jacks.

He searched for love in places strange;

And strolled through two glass doors

To see her running, making change

For people drinking Coors.

He looked at her, she looked at him,

Across the noisy room.

He flashed a toothsome grin at her,

Was hoping love would bloom.

The night was young, and he was not,

But not aware of it.

The girl had served shot after shot,

And craved to rest a bit.

He sidled up to order beer,

He asked for one or two,

And waited for what seemed a year

To tell her his "love" true.

He flew at any chance to talk,

She found his chatter void.

And wished he’d leave and take a walk,

To leave her less annoyed.

He asked if he could take her out,

Get to know her better,

She told him that she’d do without

His spoken love letter.

Attempted one more gambit move,

Emboldened by the drink.

She asked him if he’d please remove,

Didn’t need time to think.

Described inutile kinds of love,

In “love” wrong time, wrong place.

Pride-wounded hombre, home he drove,

Too late to save his face.

But God: 2 Corinthians 7

2008-05-02T17:28:00.004-06:00

Conflicts on the outside
Fears on the inside
~but God~

I try to rescue my life
I lose it
I try to save you from the serpentine surge of self destruction
You drown
Who am I to carry the world on my shoulders?
Are they so broad, to bear the curséd pains One already paid for?

Conflicts on the outside
Fears on the inside
~but God~

The Lion of Judah sheathes His claws for now
And waits for me to end my parade, my self-centered rant,
He longs for me to let Him fight for me.
How long must He wait?

Conflicts on the outside
Fears on the inside
~but God~

Intriguing Quotes From "The Shack"

2008-03-02T18:48:00.004-07:00

I just finished reading "The Shack" by William P. Young, and have here included the parts that made me think the most. Perhaps they will make you think too...

God's voice had been reduced to paper, and even that paper had to be moderated and deciphered by the proper authorities and intellects. It seemed that direct communication with God was something exclusively for the ancients and uncivilized, while educated Westerners' access to God was mediated and controlled by the intelligentsia. Nobody wanted God in a box, just in a book. Especially an expensive one bound in leather with gilt edges, or was that guilt edges?
Freedom is an incremental process. 95
Most birds were created to fly. Being grounded for them is a limitation within their ability to fly, not the other way around. You, on the other hand, were created to be loved. So for you to live as if you were unloved is a limitation, not the other way around. 97
All love an relationship is possible for you only because it already exists within Me, within God myself. 101
Unless I had an object to love-or, more accurately, a someone to love-if I did not have such a relationship within myself, then I would not be capable of love at all. You would have a god who could not love. Or maybe worse, you would have a god who, when he chose, could only love as a limitation of his nature. [...] The God who is-the I am who I am-cannot act apart from love! 102
Don't confuse adaptation for intention, or seduction for reality. 123
The real underlying flaw in your life is that you don't think I am good. If you knew I was good and that everything-the means, the ends, and all the processes of individual lives-is all covered by my goodness, then while you might not always understand what I am doing, you would trust me. But you don't. 126
Evil is a word we use to describe the absence of Good, just as we use darkness to describe the absence of Light or death to describe the absence of Life. Both evil and darkness can only be understood in relation to Light and Good; they do not have an actual existence. I am Light and I am Good. I am Love and there is no darkness in me. Light and Good actually exist. So, removing yourself from me will plunge you into darkness. Declaring independence from me will result in evil because apart from me, you can only draw upon yourself . That is death because you have separated yourself form me: Life. 136
Living fractal. 138
When we see each other or are apart, there is expectancy of being together, of laughing and talking. That expectancy has no concrete definition; it is alive and dynamic and everything that emerges from our being together is a unique give shared by no one else. But what happens if I change that 'expectancy' to an 'expectation'-spoken or unspoken? Suddenly, law has entered into our relationship. You are now expected to perform in a way that mets my expectations. Our living friendship rapidly deteriorates into a dead thing with rules and requirements. 205
Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries. -Elizabeth Barrett Browning

So, tell me what you think!!

Scribblings, Part I

2008-01-31T21:16:00.000-07:00

So, I've decided to post some of my creative writing on here, like when I started this blog thing. So here is a self portrait I did a while back to introduce myself to a writing group. Enjoy!

She sighed the potent sighs of longing and sank against the wall, sweat pouring in rivulets down the side of her face. Crying sobs of a violin flowed in through the window, drawing the soft bow of nostalgia across her core strings. She was alone in this foreign land. It was strange to her, and yet frightfully exciting in the same breath. She hadn't realized how much she missed the music. She left her country to find a new life of rich simplicity, but, in doing so, had forgotten to bring the former part of her self to support the new one as it grew. Weeks without the comfort of threads of notes woven together into a tapestry of music had worn her soul thin. But now, she closed her eyes, listened, and breathed in the spice-laden air of this tierra nueva.
She thought of home.
A duck just flew by and a small fish kept jumping on the other side of the sun kissed rock. The sun was behind the mountains, but a faint glow of peach-colored light still lingered above the horizon. Mayflies fluttered above the water that rippled by the rocks. The light gave the water the appearance of steel-gray silk. Azure clouds dotted the sky as stars began peeking from behind their puffy skirts. The waters sounded gentle applause to the Creator. Here was home. The smell of the river, the house, even the cows--the cool of the dusk near the river, near the earth. Here was here her heart dwelt.

Honduras in a Large Nutshell

2008-01-15T17:36:00.000-07:00

We began our “great adventure in the southern regions of the northern hemisphere on the western side of the world” (Sam) early on Friday, the 28^th of December. Sam’s flight was delayed, and mine left first, even though he was told I probably wouldn’t make it out that day due to the snowstorms. We had the rest of our flights together, with little to no layover from Denver to Dallas to San Salvador to San Pedro Sula to La Ceiba. I found it interesting traveling with another person; time went by much more quickly.

Honduras is a deeply intriguing country. When we deplaned in La Ceiba, I instantly noticed the air, heavy and rich like a vaporized silk. It was like walking into a rainforest sauna! Howard Pandy, an employee of La Hospital Loma de Luz, and his wife picked us up at the airport, took us to Quiznos to pick up some dinner, and dropped us off at our hotel. We ate and watched TV for a bit before I returned to my room and fell asleep once more to the sound of the chicharras.

Our luggage didn’t follow us all the way through our no-layover connections, but Norma and Charity, (Sam’s sister), came to pick us up in the morning. We shopped for food briefly and took the long, bumpy road to Balfate.

Our first full day in Balfate, a girl-24 weeks pregnant-started having contractions. The biggest danger was that, rather than having 90% oxygen saturation, she lived with hers at 65%. For all the skill and heart at Loma de Luz, they do not have the facilities to deal with this sort of trauma. But, “the prayers of the righteous man are powerful and effective” (James 5:16). They were able to get an ambulance with oxygen form San Pedro Sula (5 hours away) to come and take her to a bigger hospital with better facilities to care for her. I was amazed that the ambulance had no attendant, only a driver. I think the mother rode with her to San Pedro. The last I heard, she is stable and the baby is still developing inside. Yay God!

We went with Norma to her church on Sunday. It is very small and very young, pastored by a Guatemalan missionary and his family. Charity and I helped one lady with children’s church, while Sam helped another missionary, Penny, with her class. We taught basic hygiene paired with a memory verse. We talked this time about the importance of brushing one’s teeth and Psalms 51:10 “Crea en mi, O Dios, un corazón limpio, y renueva un espíritu recto dentro de mi.” We taught kids from 3-9 years old. It opened my eyes again to the paradox of whitewashed decay from Matthew 23:27. Sam mentioned a similar thought: how do we love people genuinely and help them see need for God, without trying to change their culture and force them into our preconceived molds? It is not our position to change people, nor should we be shocked by their lifestyles. We should love and care for them regardless.

After lunch, Norma and I went to the beach to swim and read. It was glorious! Think the Caribbean is the prettiest body of salt water I’ve ever swum in. I floated about out past the swells on the shore and reflected on life and love and happiness (Houseplant Song, anyone?). In the evening, we went over to Josh and Linzy’s to watch “A Christmas Story.” The following morning, Sam and I woke up at a decent hour and walked over to the Brownings’ to help. We started trying to create a rain gutter for their porch area. I felt fairly inadequate at this, but I wanted to do something. Later on, I got to paint…something I’ve done much more of. J I enjoyed this part a lot, in spite of having to clean off a layer of gecko dung from the tops of the cabinets. Yes, there are geckos all over the place here, and I love it! They make this crazy barking/chirping sound every once in a while. Honduras, land of barking geckos!

We went to the missionary New Year’s Party at the hospital. I met a newly engaged couple, Kara and Luke, with whom I chatted for quite some time. She was a fellow English/Spanish double major. She and Luke had both studied abroad in Costa Rica, so we compared stories and tastes in literature. We had a small campfire in the parking lot. To welcome the New Year, we toasted marshmallows to various degrees of doneness.” Some went for the “Carbon Delight” and others for the more delicate “Honeyed Heaven” shade. Sam and I had a chance to talk a bit at the fire about where we were both at. It was good to see more of what he thinks.

On New Year’s Day, we accompanied Norma in her visits to several families. I felt bad for Sam, since all the visits were in Spanish, but he patiently sat through them all and every once in a while, brought out his Book of Wisdom and Knowledge-(notebook of Spanish words/phrases he is learning)-and had me translate. Norma and I hiked up to the water tower and then the radio antennae further up the hill. The view of the Caribbean coast was stunning. The jungle breaks into sandy beaches lapped gently by azure waves. Farther out, dark islands rise out of the sapphire distance. ¡Qué hermosa es Honduras! ¡Qué arte de Dios!

After our walk, I met Sam at the bodega (shop), where he was cleaning up. I helped him sweep, and then Dr. Jeff gave us the job of driving his dune buggy back to the rancho. Ai yi yi! The jobs we must do! ;) The ride was pretty much awesome, and I got a bit of extra protein out of the deal…BONUS! The firebugs were glimmering like stardust all around the buildings.

We got up at 6 AM Honduras time (5 AM Mountain Standard), and met up with Mike and Josh to work. We took most the time getting all our materials together to start building the tebanco/loft/second floor in the Larson’s house up on the hill. First day of real work…first day of sweating like a fire hydrant. First of many to come.

Card playing is looked down upon in the Christian community in Honduras, but we were rebels and played cards after dinner. Sam almost always won, the chump! He’s like Caleb and his Monopoly! Ridiculous! (Bro, I WILL beat you some day in Monopoly…some day….) The power went out, so we played by light of lantern, and read by its light later on.

The electricity still didn’t work the next day, but I didn’t care. We had generators to power our tools at the work site. I went with Mike and Ian MacKenzie in the morning to pull one of the missionaries out of la plancha (river crossing). Sam and I ate at the triage (abnormal use of the word for a place down by the security gate where people wait and can eat lunch) before returning to work. I really enjoy working construction, though I have very little experience or skill of this sort. But the guys were most patient and forgiving of my error, and because of their grace, I actually learned a ton from the experience.

My luggage finally arrived on the 3^rd. Sam’s was still MIA. After the Thursday evening worship service, I went back to the house and did laundry/unpacked my bag. The jam I so carefully wrapped did not make it. Next time, I will use a bazillion ziplock bags and duct tape.

Friday after work, we went to Josh and Linzy’s and watched The Island, since they finally had power again. Josh leaned his dirt bike to Sam, so we bummed around on that when we needed to travel. We slept in slightly the next day, had a good chat, and then went over to hang out a bit at the MacKenzies. Charity, Sam, a few of the kids, and I watched The Saint. In the afternoon, we took the bike into Balfate, (7-10 miles away over soupy, bumpy road), to make reservations at the only comedor in town. We drove over to the Mike’s and invited him and his wife, and then made our way back. We stopped for a pop during a brief rainstorm and then Sam dropped me off at Norma’s. She was finally home, so I talked with her as she got ready to head back to work. Jeff’s father-in-law, Bob, is very sick with something that hit him out of the blue, and all the staff had been working day and night to pull him through. Norma stayed with him a lot, so we didn’t see much of her during the last week we were there.

Anyway, after talking with Norma, I realized how late it had become, and went over to the hospital to find Sam. We got to the Brownings’ too late—we had forgotten to inform them of the later reservation time. After several failed attempts to reach anybody on the radio, Dr. Jeff graciously invited us over to the rancho for dinner. So we passed a most pleasant evening with the McKennies. Hanna, the youngest girl, is a very devoted card player, so she engaged Sam in many rounds of Speed.

After a French toast breakfast on our own, we moseyed over to the church at the hospital. After lunch and another chat, we collected Charity and went down to a different section of the beach. Still beautiful. I swam around for a while before going back to shore to attempt bodysurfing. OK, so Sam succeeded. Charity got it a few times, too. I only got it about twice. My timing stinks!

Monday arrived again and we started laying down tongue and groove decking boards, so I got a lot of practice with a hammer and nails. It was my favorite part of the whole project. J We left at 5:45 AM with Mike and Ian for Ceiba, where we caught the Utila Princess out to the island. We got a room at the Mango Inn, (my recommendation for anyone who ever goes there), and then wandered around trying to find a dive shop with snorkeling. We found one on accident, en route to another, and went out with them. Snorkeling was fun, although the waves kept on filling the top of the snorkel and I had to empty it fairly often by hand, because just blowing didn’t clean it well enough. I saw some pretty cool fish, including several parrotfish, and I could hear them scraping food off the coral reef. As an added bonus to the experience, my curiosity about how a jellyfish sting feels is satiated. We all got several minor stings.

On the boat, we met an Irish woman, Kristen, who was scuba diving. On her recommendation, we went to Evelyn’s BBQ and Grill for dinner, and had a great time talking with her about world travel. We wandered about a bit more before returning to the little bar area outside our hotel. They had a hummingbird feeder there, and I thought, that’s nice. And then I thought, that’s strange that they have nocturnal hummingbirds here, but, hey I’m in a foreign country. They were bats. Little bats kept flitting about, sucking up the nectar in a most methodical manner.

We took the ferry back to Ceiba the next day, and the Brownings met us and dropped Sam and I off at the bus stop. Charity stayed with them in town, since she was flying out at 6 AM the next morning. We talked again during our 2 hour bus ride back to the hospital, paid our $1.70 fare, and checked out the hospital goings-on. Bob wasn’t doing well.

We quasi-finished the tebanco on Thursday morning and ran the electric for the lights/fans as well. We went to the Thursday afternoon service and started doing laundry and packing. Bob was doing much better by evening, and had opened his eyes once and began to have some reflexes. I hung out for a while with the Lilliards and McKennies, said my goodbyes, and returned once more to Norma’s. I hate goodbyes, but unlike some of my past trips where I felt incomplete, everything felt finished for the time being. We packed and cleaned up a bit before grabbing a quick wink for a few hours until we got back up at 3 to begin the journey to Ceiba to catch our 6 AM flight. We made it back to Montana without incident…WITH our luggage. And now to jump right back into the swing of things…classes start tomorrow! ¡Hasta luego, Honduras!

Death is Strange

2007-10-29T21:59:00.000-06:00

My grandpa died this morning. I got messages on my phone about it--strange, impersonal recordings. I don't know how exactly I expected it to end. I don't know how it will affect the family, really. I'm still trying to figure out how it affects me. What is Grandma thinking right now? How does one really deal with the death of the one person you've spent almost every moment of over 60 years with? Every smile. Every tear. Every pondering question. Every joy and every pain. My heart is rent for her. I still think she does not know the Great Comforter, whose heart bleeds along with hers for the death of one Henry George Ripley, dearly known as Rip to his friends and family. He was a mischievous man, my grandfather, but one of deep devotion to his family, to work, to pursuit of peace and justice. But although he was in his younger years devoted to "religion", I never discovered if he had a relationship with the Great I Am. Same story with Grandma. I would ask, and get turned away or met with silence. So I tried sharing my life for a year with them, trying to SHOW Jesus. And though I got questions, they never seemed to grasp that His heart was for them as well. So yes, my soul aches.
I spent three months this year taking care of both of them, getting to know them in their frail years. I helped dress them, bathed them, fed them, cleaned up after their messes, listened to stories, sang songs for their now tuneless ears. I shared life with them. And they, in that brief time, became most dear to me. They became more than distant grandparent figures, only there as the parents of my mother. I am part of their legacy. But I want to be near them. I want to pursue a deeper existence with them. And Grandma can't even move anymore. And I am in school.
So, since my tears are dry and cannot fall, I write my grief here. I spill out my tears in words. Short, punctuated pain.

So...don't put acid in your eye...

2007-07-17T23:22:00.000-06:00

This summer heat is melting me. And as I was waiting for my eye appointment at 3:00 today, I decided to make a trip to one of my fav restaurants for breakfast/lunch. I arrived at La Tinga, ordered a burrito con pollo y salsa verde. I had forgotten how intense the burrito is. I have a very high spicy food tolerance. When we were down in Mexico, I ate some food that was making others cry, and it didn't bother me a wit. This burrito, however, was very, very spicy. I loved it as it burned every pore in my mouth, esophagus, and stomach. Anyway, I washed it all down with some lovely jamaíca tea and headed back to the XA house for a bit of work. I had spent the morning visiting my grandma and giving her a haircut.
Back at the house, I did some work around the house, played a few tunes, and was just about to leave for my eye appointment when I accidentally touched the corner of my eye. Instant fiery, torturous pain shot through my iris and cornea, and whatever else feels pain in the eye. So I ran to the kitchen, tried flushing the pain with water. Didn't work. I ran to the bathroom and unloaded about a pint of contact solution into my eye and removed the then offensive contact lense from my throbbing, burning eyeball. It was at this moment I realized why I was in pain. Stupid tasty burrito!
I made it safely to my appointment wearing my glasses, careful to avoid any further touching of the ocular region. All went well, and the lovely man gave me eyedrops to help lessen the inflammation. So yeah, don't rub acid in your eye...it STINKIN' HURTS!!!

2007-07-02T01:41:00.000-06:00

My last night at the Blue Moon was last night. Rather sad, really, but necessary. The month of July was looking pretty crazy, so I put in my notice. Hopefully, now I can finish what needs to get done this summer. Also, yesterday, Laura, Dad, and I cleaned out our tack shed. When I was little, no one was even able to get in the door because of all the junk stored there...(didn't used to be a tack shed--back in the day it was a blacksmith shed)...and then we cleaned out part so we could store equine gear there. We finally started loading stuff in the back of the truck to head to the dump, and in the process, we discovered various and sundry pieces of history. We also found a lot of JUNK! I had to work before we finished, and by the time I returned, it was completely cleaned out and VERY beautiful. I love it when progress on any project or goal becomes so increasingly visible as the task goes along. And you know, I was pondering the thought that the tack shed is much like our lives.
We need to sort through the junk, find the things worth recycling, and take the rest to the dump, never to resurface in our lives. We amble along through life, allowing unnecessary baggage clutter our daily walks, and tend to stick it in storage, rather than letting Jesus deal with it. Why not let him take the junk away and polish up the hidden treasures within us so they can be put to use, rather than sitting under years of dirt and grime?
Well, it's late...or early...and I have a full plate. Aren't you glad this is a brief entry? ;)

Beneficial Bartending and Serendipidous Summers

2007-05-22T10:49:00.000-06:00

Well, friends, you can add another thing to the list of things-Kristel-and-everyone-who-knows-her-never-thought-she'd-ever-do: I'm bartending this summer! Yep, I got a bartending/waitressing job at the good 'ole Blue Moon Saloon in Divide, so I am able to walk or bike to work if I leave on time. Other than arriving home smelling like cigarette butts on occasion, I really do enjoy the job. I like meeting the people, trying to figure out how to make all the drinks, waiting tables--almost everything is enjoyable to some degree. The best part is that my schedule is flexible enough to allow for all my other summer activities.
For one, I got the house director position at Chi Alpha House, (NOT a Greek organization, I would like to point out), for this year, so I come back to Bozeman every week for house dinner/maintenance/hanging out/whatever needs to be done. Chi Alpha is a Christian group I've been a part of for four years...sort of like youth group/church for college students. Last year, XA bought an old fraternity building right across from campus...the former Lamba Chi Alpha house. We've converted it into a community living/ministry center where girls live on one floor and guys on another, and we share the community areas, like the living room, kitchen, theater room, volleyball court, etc. It's a pretty sweet setup. I'm looking forward to this year, although I know it will bring a ton of challenges.
Another project for the summer...HORSES! I am now the proud, first time legal owner of an equine! I am stoked! Her name is Atti...(I did NOT choose the name)...and she's a gorgeous 3/4 Arab 1/4 American Saddlebred bay 5 year old mare. She's had some groundwork done, but has never been ridden. I'm am excited to have her as my first training project. Pixie was truly my first, but I didn't know much about training when I started her--she was sort of trained when she was born, it seems.
Yep, so this will be my tentative summer schedule. Hope ya'll have a splendid summer as well! Shoot me a line sometime!

Bobcat Survivor!

2007-03-24T11:03:00.000-06:00

A couple Chi Alpha (XA) meetings ago, Rod called me over to the sign up table, and I signed up for an event that I wasn't too sure about. In fact, I sort of forgot about it briefly. I had no clue what I was getting myself into, but I'm glad I did. :) I met up with my team of four other members last night at 7ish and we ambled on over to Shroyer Gym to see what was up. We all got t-shirts and a team bandanna. There were 16 total teams. We began with the egg toss, filled a cup with water using a bucket of "moose blood" (aka water with red food coloring...sick moose, I can tell 'ya!), sudoku, an obstacle course over/under flags and through cones on a tricycle...wearing beer goggles, the equivalent of DDR with a guitar, dodgeball...(no wrenches)...sucking jello through a forked tube, eating baked beans with a toothpick, wheelbarrow races with 5 crackers and whistling at the end, Scattergories (my fav), shooting hoops, and the final test between the top 6 teams at the end of the night, just before midnight. Oof! We couldn't believe it, we went into the tug-o-war final test 4th! And we came out of that 2nd! We won some ski tickets, restaurant coupons, a day at the hotsprings, etc....but most importantly, we got away with all the leftover beans! The guys had us take all the leftovers, and kept telling everyone we won a lifetime supply of beans. Oi vey! We got back just after midnight, and then we hung out talking until 4:30 this morning. I slept out in my car for 5 hours, and now I'm up again with no plan of action for my day of freedom. Exciting!

Skiing...the good kind!

2007-03-11T11:22:00.000-06:00

We drove to Chief Joseph ski area down by Lost Trail yesterday. The weather was gorgeous! Mom's bday was on the 9th, and she wanted to go skiing, so we did...on the 10th. Jason and Laura met us there a little after noon, and we headed out on a snow-day adventure. We picked random trails to explore and I tried to practice technique...since I seriously lack all ability in this area. :) Dad and Mom gave me pointers on skating and gliding right, although the gliding thing I have a hard time with the timing. Oh well, it was awesome anyway. My skis are borrowed at the moment, although Laura found me some sweet skis for cheap, and some awesome poles on sale. Just waiting on the boots. Anyway, the skis I used were waxless, and had some serious kicker action...just not too much glide. We hadn't put any Alpina wax...(speeds things up a bit)...so I could go up hills with no effort...but had to practically push myself DOWN them! After a few hours of exploring, we wrapped it up, ate cheesecake with raspberries...(kudos to Laura)...and then parted ways to head to our respective homes. We ate a crockpot stew and watched Flicka afterward. What a day! I leave for Bozeman shortly and back to the grandparents'. So much for spring break!

Update '07

2007-03-02T11:46:00.000-07:00

Hmmm, well, warp to a new time in my life. I am no longer in Murcia...*shedding silent tear*...but I am content here in Montana in the 2 degree (-16.7 degrees C) weather with snow storms almost every night and some days. The snow is breathtaking. After I got back to Montana in December, I had a whirlwind month of family and friends, you know Christmas time. When we all get together, laugh and tease, drink hot cocoa and eat sugary sweets and cherish the time we have together. Seth and a very pregnant Caia came back from his Air Force base in North Carolina, and Jason and Laura came home for a bit. We all went skiing/boarding as a family like last year. Great times.
I was job searching, (I was not returning to MSU-Bozeman this semester), when my grandma had a stroke. She had been the primary caregiver for my grandpa, and when she went down, a big caregiver-gap was created. So that's what I'm doing now. I am living up Bridger Canyon about 11 miles, living like a 24/7 nurse. And the nurse part is ironic, because Laura and I had considered CPN training back in January, but didn't do it due to missed deadlines and her not getting into nursing school anyway. And here I am doing a version of just that.
I don't know how long this will last. I enjoy it for the most part, but there are days when I want to get out and just run somewhere, or play in the snow, or ride my horse...(many days)...hang out at a coffee shop and drink chai, have contact with people my own age...and I am limited to Tuesday nights and one other day a week. It's a good way to serve. I have to learn to be more selfless, and this is great training. It gives me time to reflect, write, draw, read, etc. What a strange bridge to be standing on! Enjoying the rest, and yet straining to be not just on the edge of action. Tuesday nights have been the highlight of my week. I go to Chi Alpha, (formerly UCF), at the new Chi Alpha house, (formerly Lamba Chi Alpha Fraternity) for the evening on Tuesday nights. So much is happening there, I get a taste of the God adventures I crave.
Oh yes, in other news, the very pregnant Caia is no longer that way. I'm an aunt for the first time! My bro Seth and sister-in-law Caia gave birth to Titus Stephen Salusso on January 29th. He was two weeks early, but weighed 9 lbs 1 oz, and measured 22 in. He was a big'un! Seems to be doing well--Mom and Sara visited them last week in NC. Seth just got orders to England for 3 years, though, so that's cool and horrible all at once. I mean, I guess I probably won't see him any more than I see him now, and it would be sweet for them to live in a foreign country for a bit...(neither has been outside the U.S. or Mexico)...but I know how big the ocean is now, and I won't be able to call them Verizon anymore. *sigh*
Aight, that's all for now. Chat lata.