On Being Back

My last few months in Bolivia were like injecting my veins with friendship speed.  Every day was celebrating something, and I had no end of cool people to celebrate with because they were coming and going, in and out of my country and city.  That's missionary life.

And missionary life was good for my friendships here in the US too, at least for those last few months.  My Facebook wall was always full of kind notes about people excited to see me when I got home.  Home.  As if that place existed to me anymore.


Now I've been back for just under four months.  I'm just beginning to feel settled into a semi-permanent job, a church, and a house.  And I am not on friendship crack anymore. And it's hard for me.  Maybe selfishly, but I liked being the novelty.  I was the gringa who could speak Spanish to my Bolivian friends, and my friends in the US were willing to excuse my bad communication and forgetfulness because I was serving the Lord in a foreign land. And the missionaries.  They were friends who understood my adventurous spirit and why I was willing to serve the way I did.  But my friends in Bolivia, even if they wanted to, do not have consistent internet access to stay in close contact.   My friends here can see my faults up close and personal, and I am just me again to everyone.  


How do I learn to be me, without a ministry or a cultural barrier to cover the parts of me I'd like to hide?  How do I exist exactly as God intends me to in this normal life?  This life means some nights at home with a book, and some days without phone calls. I like those things, but I'm not used to them.  Call it reverse culture shock, call it my third culture, but adjusting to do.

Coming Home

The following is semi-stream-of-consciousness writing about my transition.  It's written more for me than for people who read my blog, but posted for posterity.  


It's 11:17 p.m.  My nieces are spending a few days with us and want to sleep with Auntie Kayleen, but I was watching movies with friends and didn't get home until 10:45.  I just lay between them holding their hands until they fell asleep, but I won't let myself sleep until I set aside some time to process being back here.  Process having two little seven year-olds always wanting to play with me and hold my hand.  Process shopping malls and English-speaking friends and dishwashers.  My world in Bolivia was not living in a mud hut with no outside communication.  I had friends who spoke English, I could shop at supermarkets, I even ate Pringles.  But life is different here.  There are different expectations, different priorities.  

Today at church was hard.  As I walked up to the door with my mom, she greeted the girl holding the door for us, but only by saying hi.  I was actually startled by the fact that there was no hug and kiss like is traditional in Bolivian culture.  Lots of people gave me hugs when I came in  because I was home for the first time in ten months, but it was different from hugs in Bolivia, which are all about finding out how you are and just letting you know you're loved.  Hugs in Fall Creek are wonderful, because they say "You've been gone a long time and we've missed you," but they are different.


Also, tonight I hung out for the first time with non-missionary, non-Bolivian friends.  I was a  little nervous on the way there.  They are friends that I haven't known for a long time, and I worried that I wouldn't be aware enough of pop culture or even of how to be a friend in a North American setting to fit in.  Things were fine in our meal and movie, but I was very quiet, observing a lot more than I talked.  


There is no doubt that I miss Bolivia.  I miss my friends there, the work I had there, the tranquila culture, but I am glad to be here, too.  I start my exciting new adventure soon, and I'm ready to start looking for jobs and a place to live.  I'm ready to renew some friendships here.  I'm ready to serve Christ in a new way again.  I just pray for strength for the task and trust in God's faithfulness.


Song I've been loving my Matt Redman- Never Once

Kneeling on this battle ground 

Seeing just how much You've done 

Knowing every victory 

Is Your power in us 

Never once did we ever walk alone 

Never once did You leave us on our own 

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Twenty-three Places

As I transition from school teacher and worship team singer to dish washer and camp counselor, I am feeling pulled in a million directions.  No part of me wants to be vulnerable with all the new people who are going to be coming into my life in the next four months.  Massive transition


June: Discipleship camp
July: Work team/travel with friends
August: Home with family in WI
September: New life in MN


To use Matt Wertz's album title, I feel pulled in twenty-three places.  His song "Falling Off the Face of the Earth" fits my mood today.


Stay away from me
Cause I'll be gone soon
It's just so hard to let go once we've grabbed hold
It's nothing that you've done
You're not the only one
I'm just learning to be in twenty-three places

And I'm falling off the face of the earth
Crashing into bridges I burn
And I'm falling off the face of the earth
But I'll be home soon

Is this how the story goes
When rubber meets the road
Waving goodbye is so hard without hello

And I'm falling off the face of the earth
Crashing into bridges I burn
And I'm falling off the face of the earth
But I'll be home soon

I keep forgetting to
Keep you an arms length aways

Because I'm falling off the face of the earth
Crashing into bridges I burn
And I'm falling off the face of the earth
But I'll be home soon


I'm homesick for heaven