I know I've had to make major decisions that will impact my life and the lives of my family members before, but for some reason I feel so nervous about the decision facing me now. In about one week, I need to rank order the positions I hope to occupy next year and in essence I will be rank ordering the places I want to live next year. Deciding on where to live for the next four years means that I will essentially define the school options for my three children, the professional development and employment opportunities for my husband, and the quality of life for all of us. Last week I found myself half-wishing that the agency would just give me a flag and direct me to my new home.
One year ago when I thought I knew what my options would be, I was so sure that Kenya was the best place for all of us and I spent so much time doing research and convincing dear hubby and my teenager that it would be a great place for us. I even visited Nairobi in June for a couple of days to get a feel for the place and visit the school and I was even more excited about the possibility of moving there next year. But then the list came out and a place I never dreamed would come up for me appeared on the list along with an invitation to consider a place that I had mentally dismissed because of malaria.
So now I'm just confused!!
Kenya is still so attractive for many reasons (no need for anti-malarial drugs in the capital, great schools, good weather, lots of activities, friendly people, good housing, the list goes on and on) and it's the top choice for my hubby and eldest son; however, I'm worried about the high crime and Somalians and stories like this are not helping me feel better.
But now the Southern African nation of Zambia is appealing too and a bit slower-paced. There, too, we would have great weather, a moderate amount of stuff to do, low malaria risk in Lusaka, and friendly people, but there is also LESS CRIME and I haven't heard of any terrorist threats. BUT, it's more expensive and I've heard the high school doesn't compare to the schools in Nairobi.
Or What about the West African nation of Ghana? Rich in culture, enough activities to keep the whole family busy, a supervisor that I already know and like, great seafood options, beaches nearby, safe community but HOTTER THAN THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC with a very real malaria threat and an o.k. American-style high school.
Knowing that my family will face some level of risk no matter where we go is probably the heaviest weight on my shoulders. I've had a couple of people tell me that in this business, your decisions come down to you "picking your poison" since no place will be perfect. My only prayer is that we move to the place where all of my family members will thrive, where I'll be able to positively impact the lives of people that are less fortunate than me, and where my children and hubby can feel safe, happy, comfortable. Whew!
Is this the kind of anxiety that awaits me every two to four years until I retire? Somebody please tell me no!
We're hanging out in la República Dominicana for the next couple of years.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Catch-up Post #2: First Time in Africa - Ethiopia
I'm really disappointed in myself for not writing regularly whle I was in Addis Ababa - I had so MUCH to write about. Six weeks have passed and now I'm attempting to record what I remember below:
I felt a little nervous before going to Ethiopia because it is one of the poorer countries on the continent and based on what I'd heard from well-traveled people, developing countries in Africa were far behind Latin American countries. I was sort of expecting Addis Ababa, the capital, to be drowning in destitution - especially because I always remembered this country as the poster child for impoverished African countries. I was concerned that I wouldn't be able to handle the "new poverty" that I'd heard so much about since I was leaving Latin America and specifically, the Dominican Republic - land of Ikea, luxury cars, and Cartier stores. Despite my apprehension, I was super excited about leaving the Americas and finally going OVER a SEA to arrive at my destination for the first time.
I finally arrived in Addis at about 9:30 p.m. on May 31st and my friend and colleague picked me up from the airport and took me to her home. Two things stood out to me on that 10 minute ride to her home. 1) There was a line of homeless people lying on the street outside the gates of a church. I have certainly seen homeless people before sleeping in urban U.S. cities; however, I don't think I'd ever seen so many at one time. 2) Although my friend lives in a really nice home, in a presumably safe and nice neighborhood, I couldn't tell that her neighborhood was nice by looking at the surroundings. In every place that I've traveled (and again, it had only been limited to the Caribbean and Latin America prior to this trip) the difference between middle - upper middle class neighborhoods and poor neighborhoods is painfully obvious.
I spent 30 days in Ethiopia and left with a completely different view of one of Africa's poorest countries and frankly, of the entire African continent - which cannot and should not ever be put in one big box. The following phenomena left the biggest impression on me:
* The capital city was so full of life - even at night. There were tons of small businesses everywhere; lots of people on the streets selling everything from maps to produce, to pirated Sam Cooke, Lionel Richie, and Michael Bolton cds; several new buildings were being constructed; an incredible number of diplomats and expatriates live in the city and the African Union's headquarters is there; the coffee shops were almost always crowded with young people; and there are plenty of restaurants, bars, dance clubs, and places to go for live music.
* Ethiopians seem so serene by nature. From the people that I worked with to the taxi driver we used consistently to the random folks I encountered, they struck me as a peaceful group. It was common to see heterosexual men (and women) holding hands in public, there is a low rate of violent crime, and I believe Christians and Muslims live in relative peace together.
* Orthodox Christianity is alive and well. There are tons of churches throughout the city; most of the places of interest for tourists are churches or other sacred places; fasting takes place twice a week and for several additional days throughout the year; people kiss the walls and grounds of the churches as they pass by; many women cover their hair; most of the females I saw were modestly dressed and even the prostitutes' clothing just reminded me my younger days when I dressed "up" for the club.
My short time in Ethiopia was luckily long enough for me to dispel a couple of long-standing myths for me:
* SOME PARTS OF AFRICA EXPERIENCE VERY COOL WEATHER. Addis Ababa is more than 8,000 feet above sea level and I wore a jacket heavy enough for autumn in Washington, DC on most days. I slept under three blankets at night and I would have looked like a fool had my friend not warned me that it was too cool for linen in Addis.
* MALARIA IS NOT A SERIOUS HEALTH THREAT IN EVERY AFRICAN CITY. Thanks to the altitude, I didn't need to take anti-malarial drugs nor did I run the risk of contracting malaria in the city.
I felt a little nervous before going to Ethiopia because it is one of the poorer countries on the continent and based on what I'd heard from well-traveled people, developing countries in Africa were far behind Latin American countries. I was sort of expecting Addis Ababa, the capital, to be drowning in destitution - especially because I always remembered this country as the poster child for impoverished African countries. I was concerned that I wouldn't be able to handle the "new poverty" that I'd heard so much about since I was leaving Latin America and specifically, the Dominican Republic - land of Ikea, luxury cars, and Cartier stores. Despite my apprehension, I was super excited about leaving the Americas and finally going OVER a SEA to arrive at my destination for the first time.
I finally arrived in Addis at about 9:30 p.m. on May 31st and my friend and colleague picked me up from the airport and took me to her home. Two things stood out to me on that 10 minute ride to her home. 1) There was a line of homeless people lying on the street outside the gates of a church. I have certainly seen homeless people before sleeping in urban U.S. cities; however, I don't think I'd ever seen so many at one time. 2) Although my friend lives in a really nice home, in a presumably safe and nice neighborhood, I couldn't tell that her neighborhood was nice by looking at the surroundings. In every place that I've traveled (and again, it had only been limited to the Caribbean and Latin America prior to this trip) the difference between middle - upper middle class neighborhoods and poor neighborhoods is painfully obvious.
I spent 30 days in Ethiopia and left with a completely different view of one of Africa's poorest countries and frankly, of the entire African continent - which cannot and should not ever be put in one big box. The following phenomena left the biggest impression on me:
* The capital city was so full of life - even at night. There were tons of small businesses everywhere; lots of people on the streets selling everything from maps to produce, to pirated Sam Cooke, Lionel Richie, and Michael Bolton cds; several new buildings were being constructed; an incredible number of diplomats and expatriates live in the city and the African Union's headquarters is there; the coffee shops were almost always crowded with young people; and there are plenty of restaurants, bars, dance clubs, and places to go for live music.
* Ethiopians seem so serene by nature. From the people that I worked with to the taxi driver we used consistently to the random folks I encountered, they struck me as a peaceful group. It was common to see heterosexual men (and women) holding hands in public, there is a low rate of violent crime, and I believe Christians and Muslims live in relative peace together.
* Orthodox Christianity is alive and well. There are tons of churches throughout the city; most of the places of interest for tourists are churches or other sacred places; fasting takes place twice a week and for several additional days throughout the year; people kiss the walls and grounds of the churches as they pass by; many women cover their hair; most of the females I saw were modestly dressed and even the prostitutes' clothing just reminded me my younger days when I dressed "up" for the club.
My short time in Ethiopia was luckily long enough for me to dispel a couple of long-standing myths for me:
* SOME PARTS OF AFRICA EXPERIENCE VERY COOL WEATHER. Addis Ababa is more than 8,000 feet above sea level and I wore a jacket heavy enough for autumn in Washington, DC on most days. I slept under three blankets at night and I would have looked like a fool had my friend not warned me that it was too cool for linen in Addis.
* MALARIA IS NOT A SERIOUS HEALTH THREAT IN EVERY AFRICAN CITY. Thanks to the altitude, I didn't need to take anti-malarial drugs nor did I run the risk of contracting malaria in the city.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Catch-up Post #1 - Quick Observations in Frankfurt, Germany
It has been months since I've written anything and I have had so much to write about, so I'm getting back into the swing of things now and writing what I remember.
On May 30th, I landed in Frankfurt and stayed over for a little more than 24 hours on my way to Ethiopia. It is the only time I've ever spent time in a European city and there were a few surprises - most of them pleasant. The first major thing that I noticed was just how orderly everything seemed to work in Frankfurt. Nothing seemed chaotic - not the airport, the traffic, or the security checkpoints at the airport. I was also struck by how relaxed the airport security process was once I landed in the country. After I collected my luggage, I stood staring at two doors for about five minutes while I waited on the customs agents to show up. There was a sign on one side that was for people who had something to declare and another sign for people that don't have anything to declare, but there were no customs agents available to receive a form, inspect luggages or anything. I found that to be very interesting and disconcerting. Although standing in lines at the airports in the U.S. and collecting my bags even if I'm only passing through the U.S. to go to another country takes extra time and can be a little annoying, I prefer that to not seeing a single person of authority around in an international airport.
Since food is quite important to me, I was quite pleased to find many outdoor/indoor cafes with great-tasting fresh breads and cheeses at reasonable prices. I was not happy to pay almost $10 for a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice though.
The parks were beautiful, clean, well-kept and really green. The weather was beautiful and I loved the beautiful trees.
It was impressive to see so many people riding bikes to and from work throughout the day and having bike lines throughout the city. I saw youthful men and women and grey-haired women and men riding bikes. I even saw a mom carrying her baby in a sling on a bike as she SMOKED A CIGARETTE IN THE BABY'S FACE. And this brings me to my last point about Frankfurt, Germany: How is it that a country with such lofty goals to use generate close to 30% of their energy from renewable sources in an effort to help Mother Earth not wage a visible, aggressive campaign against smoking?!? I couldn't believe how many people I saw smoking cigarettes there! I might be exaggerating, but it seemed like almost half the people on the street and in the cafes were smoking. That was the only disappointing thing about my short time in Germany - the place seemed so "with it" in some ways, but so far behind the times in one important way that affects environmental and public health.
On May 30th, I landed in Frankfurt and stayed over for a little more than 24 hours on my way to Ethiopia. It is the only time I've ever spent time in a European city and there were a few surprises - most of them pleasant. The first major thing that I noticed was just how orderly everything seemed to work in Frankfurt. Nothing seemed chaotic - not the airport, the traffic, or the security checkpoints at the airport. I was also struck by how relaxed the airport security process was once I landed in the country. After I collected my luggage, I stood staring at two doors for about five minutes while I waited on the customs agents to show up. There was a sign on one side that was for people who had something to declare and another sign for people that don't have anything to declare, but there were no customs agents available to receive a form, inspect luggages or anything. I found that to be very interesting and disconcerting. Although standing in lines at the airports in the U.S. and collecting my bags even if I'm only passing through the U.S. to go to another country takes extra time and can be a little annoying, I prefer that to not seeing a single person of authority around in an international airport.
Since food is quite important to me, I was quite pleased to find many outdoor/indoor cafes with great-tasting fresh breads and cheeses at reasonable prices. I was not happy to pay almost $10 for a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice though.
The parks were beautiful, clean, well-kept and really green. The weather was beautiful and I loved the beautiful trees.
It was impressive to see so many people riding bikes to and from work throughout the day and having bike lines throughout the city. I saw youthful men and women and grey-haired women and men riding bikes. I even saw a mom carrying her baby in a sling on a bike as she SMOKED A CIGARETTE IN THE BABY'S FACE. And this brings me to my last point about Frankfurt, Germany: How is it that a country with such lofty goals to use generate close to 30% of their energy from renewable sources in an effort to help Mother Earth not wage a visible, aggressive campaign against smoking?!? I couldn't believe how many people I saw smoking cigarettes there! I might be exaggerating, but it seemed like almost half the people on the street and in the cafes were smoking. That was the only disappointing thing about my short time in Germany - the place seemed so "with it" in some ways, but so far behind the times in one important way that affects environmental and public health.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
One Dinner in the Life of a Struggling Expat (with one too many food restrictions)
Yesterday my teenager and his Haitian friend announced that his mom wanted to cook dinner for our family on Thursday - today. Of course we accepted the invitation.
I asked my son's friend if his mom was aware that we don't eat meat. He assured me that she knew. Although I still felt uneasy about eating at someone's house who doesn't know me or my family and whose ethnic cuisine I'd never tasted, I made a silent commitment to go, eat, and enjoy.
After arriving at their home and greeting the mom, aunt, sister, and son and learning which person spoke Spanish and which spoke English, the mom brought out a serving tray with 5 glasses of what looked like orange/pineapple juice to give us. I was quietly encouraging myself to drink this juice that I expected to be doused with sugar since I don't ever add sweetener to fruit juices. My husband, 13 year-old son and I were given full glasses of this "juice" but my young children weren't given anything, to their great disappointment.
After drinking some of this pungent "juice" and sharing it with our two and four-year-olds, my husband asked about the ingredients. The 18-year-old daughter explained that chinola (maracuya or passionfruit), pineapple, and orange juice were in it and the mom chimed in to say "and just a little bit of this" as she held up a 1.5L bottle of GIN!!!
Don't worry - I didn't fall out although I don't drink, my 13- year- old does not drink, and my two and four-year olds certainly don't drink alcohol. I just remember blinking my very wide eyes and trying to keep a smile on my face as my husband and I disappointed our children by telling them that the "juice" they were previously drinking with such enthusiasm was now off limits. Luckily, one of our hostesses quickly handed our little darlings two cups of non-alcoholic "cherry" juice.
I told my hostesses that I don't drink and they responded that "oh, it's just a little bit." I sat there trying to sip this gin juice and after a few more sips, I just couldn't do it anymore. 30 minutes later, one of the ladies took my glass while sucking her teeth jussst a little bit.
Finally, dinner was served. They had a table of rice and juandules (I don't know what the equivalent is in English but it is similar to tiny peas, just bitter if not washed properly), chicken, something else that looked like poultry, shredded cabbage with mayonaise, salad with shredded carrots, apples, tomatoes, and iceberg lettuce, and fried something.
I took some rice, shredded cabbage, and salad knowing that my son's friend must've told them that we eat alot of vegetables and fruit. My hostess insisted that I take some of the seafood - the seafood that looked like poultry- and she piled it on my plate. I asked what it was and she said it was lambi. Now is lambi a Creole, Spanish or French word? I resolved to taste the lambi and tried hard to believe that this food that looked and tasted like poultry was really seafood.
As we ate our food (we does not include my four-year-old who told me, "I don't like it" quickly after trying the fried something and shredded cabbage.), I kept reminding myself that it is extremely offensive to people from many other cultures when guests refuse to eat all or most of their food. So I forced myself to smile, chitchat and eat the shredded cabbage with mayonaise that I don't like and the carrot/apple/lettuce salad although cholera has made its way to Santo Domingo and I had no idea what they used to wash their produce, and the rice and juandules that were quite bitter because they probably weren't washed the way our housekeeper taught us.
I was sooo proud of myself...until I ate some of the mysterious lambi and discovered a tiny bone. Yeah. So I kept trying to whisper to my Spanish-speaking husband that had two glasses of the gin juice to ask him "have you ever eaten this before?", "is this really from the sea?", and "what kind of animal is this?" in Spanish or English depending on who was in the room with us since one person spoke Spanish and the other spoke English. Finally, I asked the hostess what the name of the food is again and she tells me "lambi". I ask her if it's seafood and she says, "yes". (this question and answer session with her is in English but her strengths are Creole and French). I then asked her how you say it in English but she couldn't remember. She's trying to remember the word and asks my husband if it's called LAMB in English and my husband who grew up on the Pacific Ocean and claimed to have eaten this before, but also had two glasses of gin juice, responded with a resounding "yes". So I tell her that, "no, I can't eat this because I don't eat meat and LAMB is not a seafood." She then tells me that it is from the sea. I asked her if it is a LAMB like the one that goes
I am always struck by the generosity of people I've met in other countries. Despite my UNgracefulness, the fact that she lost her sister in the earthquake last year and cannot live in her home in Haiti right now, my hostess gave me a tour of her home, offered to bring art back from Haiti for me on her next visit, baked us a cake, and repeatedly told me that her home is my home. I offered to invite them to our home next time for dinner (and yes one reason is so I can control the menu). I only hope that as I continue to befriend people in other countries, I will progress toward being a more perfect dinner guest.
I asked my son's friend if his mom was aware that we don't eat meat. He assured me that she knew. Although I still felt uneasy about eating at someone's house who doesn't know me or my family and whose ethnic cuisine I'd never tasted, I made a silent commitment to go, eat, and enjoy.
After arriving at their home and greeting the mom, aunt, sister, and son and learning which person spoke Spanish and which spoke English, the mom brought out a serving tray with 5 glasses of what looked like orange/pineapple juice to give us. I was quietly encouraging myself to drink this juice that I expected to be doused with sugar since I don't ever add sweetener to fruit juices. My husband, 13 year-old son and I were given full glasses of this "juice" but my young children weren't given anything, to their great disappointment.
After drinking some of this pungent "juice" and sharing it with our two and four-year-olds, my husband asked about the ingredients. The 18-year-old daughter explained that chinola (maracuya or passionfruit), pineapple, and orange juice were in it and the mom chimed in to say "and just a little bit of this" as she held up a 1.5L bottle of GIN!!!
Don't worry - I didn't fall out although I don't drink, my 13- year- old does not drink, and my two and four-year olds certainly don't drink alcohol. I just remember blinking my very wide eyes and trying to keep a smile on my face as my husband and I disappointed our children by telling them that the "juice" they were previously drinking with such enthusiasm was now off limits. Luckily, one of our hostesses quickly handed our little darlings two cups of non-alcoholic "cherry" juice.
I told my hostesses that I don't drink and they responded that "oh, it's just a little bit." I sat there trying to sip this gin juice and after a few more sips, I just couldn't do it anymore. 30 minutes later, one of the ladies took my glass while sucking her teeth jussst a little bit.
Finally, dinner was served. They had a table of rice and juandules (I don't know what the equivalent is in English but it is similar to tiny peas, just bitter if not washed properly), chicken, something else that looked like poultry, shredded cabbage with mayonaise, salad with shredded carrots, apples, tomatoes, and iceberg lettuce, and fried something.
I took some rice, shredded cabbage, and salad knowing that my son's friend must've told them that we eat alot of vegetables and fruit. My hostess insisted that I take some of the seafood - the seafood that looked like poultry- and she piled it on my plate. I asked what it was and she said it was lambi. Now is lambi a Creole, Spanish or French word? I resolved to taste the lambi and tried hard to believe that this food that looked and tasted like poultry was really seafood.
As we ate our food (we does not include my four-year-old who told me, "I don't like it" quickly after trying the fried something and shredded cabbage.), I kept reminding myself that it is extremely offensive to people from many other cultures when guests refuse to eat all or most of their food. So I forced myself to smile, chitchat and eat the shredded cabbage with mayonaise that I don't like and the carrot/apple/lettuce salad although cholera has made its way to Santo Domingo and I had no idea what they used to wash their produce, and the rice and juandules that were quite bitter because they probably weren't washed the way our housekeeper taught us.
I was sooo proud of myself...until I ate some of the mysterious lambi and discovered a tiny bone. Yeah. So I kept trying to whisper to my Spanish-speaking husband that had two glasses of the gin juice to ask him "have you ever eaten this before?", "is this really from the sea?", and "what kind of animal is this?" in Spanish or English depending on who was in the room with us since one person spoke Spanish and the other spoke English. Finally, I asked the hostess what the name of the food is again and she tells me "lambi". I ask her if it's seafood and she says, "yes". (this question and answer session with her is in English but her strengths are Creole and French). I then asked her how you say it in English but she couldn't remember. She's trying to remember the word and asks my husband if it's called LAMB in English and my husband who grew up on the Pacific Ocean and claimed to have eaten this before, but also had two glasses of gin juice, responded with a resounding "yes". So I tell her that, "no, I can't eat this because I don't eat meat and LAMB is not a seafood." She then tells me that it is from the sea. I asked her if it is a LAMB like the one that goes
Baaa, baaa. She laughs, my husband almost vanishes into thin air from embarassment, and I try to keep a straight face since I, too cannot believe that I just imitated a sheep in this stranger's home as I represent the US Government in a country that is neither mine nor hers. So, she emphatically tells me "no, it's not LAMB" and I ask her to tell me what it looks like. (I know, I just could NOT help myself). She explains that it comes in a big shell and you have to scrape it out. I asked if it was conk or concha and she and my husband say "yes" together. So although it still reminded me of dark meat poultry, I ate the rest without additional inquiries.
I am always struck by the generosity of people I've met in other countries. Despite my UNgracefulness, the fact that she lost her sister in the earthquake last year and cannot live in her home in Haiti right now, my hostess gave me a tour of her home, offered to bring art back from Haiti for me on her next visit, baked us a cake, and repeatedly told me that her home is my home. I offered to invite them to our home next time for dinner (and yes one reason is so I can control the menu). I only hope that as I continue to befriend people in other countries, I will progress toward being a more perfect dinner guest.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Air Show in Santo Domingo
A couple of Sundays ago, we went to the Malecón on the waterfront to enjoy the air show put on by the Dominican military, in conjunction with our own military while lots of other non-essential programs were on the chopping block. Anyway, I'd like to say the day was just perfect; however, my 13-yr. old was "lost" for 4 hours. My dear hubby and I took turns exercising by walking 1+ miles in 85-degree weather under the blazing sun looking for him. I alerted the police and was taken to a first-aid area to give a description, although I'm not sure why since they did not have the emcee announce the lost child and my son wore an orange shirt just like half of the other male spectators that day.
Don't worry though - he found us juuuussst when he felt like it. I was worrying and thinking he had either fallen into the Caribbean Sea or been beaten and had his cell phone stolen while he was joking around with school friends that he found. Lucky for me, his friend's father works with me and when my wonderful child couldn't explain where we were exactly, he decided to intervene. I was so happy he was alive and safe, I don't even think I yelled.
Unfortunately for the little ones though, our concern for big brother meant they had to enjoy about 2.5 hours of the air show from our car (the last place we were all together).
That was no fun for the children or the parents, but my 2 yr. old managed to create body art
and we saw some cool formations
and a smiley face in the sky.
You have to strain and look at the bottom of the picture.
Don't worry though - he found us juuuussst when he felt like it. I was worrying and thinking he had either fallen into the Caribbean Sea or been beaten and had his cell phone stolen while he was joking around with school friends that he found. Lucky for me, his friend's father works with me and when my wonderful child couldn't explain where we were exactly, he decided to intervene. I was so happy he was alive and safe, I don't even think I yelled.
Unfortunately for the little ones though, our concern for big brother meant they had to enjoy about 2.5 hours of the air show from our car (the last place we were all together).
That was no fun for the children or the parents, but my 2 yr. old managed to create body art
and we saw some cool formations
and a smiley face in the sky.
You have to strain and look at the bottom of the picture.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Company
My mom is coming! My mom is coming!
I LOVE LOVE LOVE company!!! My mother came last August, soon after we arrived, but before our car arrived so the only thing "special" she did was consume coconut water and young coconut meat from about 20 young coconuts and purchase something she needed from Ikea.
I'm not only excited because one of her bags is mostly full of special food items for us, like my 150 oz. of agave or bottles of Nettle to help control my daughter's environmental allergies. THIS time, her trip unexpectedly saved the day since next Tuesday is Grandparent's Day at Z. Mulenga's pre-school! I'm so thankful because I felt a little saddened by the thought of my daughter being the only child without a grandparent at school.
We're going to have a picnic at the Aquarium which has a beautiful outside part on a pretty part of the Caribbean Sea and visit Lost Tres Ojos and catch some of the DR's art.
I'm so looking forward to hanging out with her, my youngest two children are excited, my oldest loves her too but he's 13.
For those family members and friends that have considered visiting us, please do come. We'll treat you so well you won't want to return, but time is running out since we have less than 1.5 years left.
I LOVE LOVE LOVE company!!! My mother came last August, soon after we arrived, but before our car arrived so the only thing "special" she did was consume coconut water and young coconut meat from about 20 young coconuts and purchase something she needed from Ikea.
I'm not only excited because one of her bags is mostly full of special food items for us, like my 150 oz. of agave or bottles of Nettle to help control my daughter's environmental allergies. THIS time, her trip unexpectedly saved the day since next Tuesday is Grandparent's Day at Z. Mulenga's pre-school! I'm so thankful because I felt a little saddened by the thought of my daughter being the only child without a grandparent at school.
We're going to have a picnic at the Aquarium which has a beautiful outside part on a pretty part of the Caribbean Sea and visit Lost Tres Ojos and catch some of the DR's art.
I'm so looking forward to hanging out with her, my youngest two children are excited, my oldest loves her too but he's 13.
For those family members and friends that have considered visiting us, please do come. We'll treat you so well you won't want to return, but time is running out since we have less than 1.5 years left.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Remembering my Purpose
I love daydreaming, researching, imagining, anticipating, and wondering about many things in my life, especially where I'll live next. In 2009, I went a little crazy with all the daydreaming, researching, imagining, anticipating, and wondering about where I'd be only to end up in the only country that I hoped I wouldn't be. In 2010, I reduced time spent daydreaming, researching, imagining, anticipating, and wondering about where to next but I still couldn't stay away from Tales from a Small Planet. This year I spent 1 month in Barbados and found myself pining for the opportunity to live there next despite knowing that lots of little [bureaucratic] miracles would need to take place to make that a remote possibility.
During my time in Barbados, however, I had a revelation that left a lasting impression on me. "I am here to fulfill one of my life's missions". Consuming my energy with thoughts of "where to next?" and "oh, how I wish" is a symptom of my failure to honor my purpose for being here and disregard the totality of my "failures", disappointments, triumphs, prayers, and general life experiences that prepared and led me to be here. I certainly want to end up in the best place for my family and me, but I no longer want to write the detailed prescription [even in my head] for the best place for me to be. And I certainly don't intend to endlessly daydream, research, imagine, anticipate, and wonder about the next place as I did in the recent past.
I'm looking forward to living where I'm needed most, where I'll be able to influence lasting, positive change, and where my family will thrive.
During my time in Barbados, however, I had a revelation that left a lasting impression on me. "I am here to fulfill one of my life's missions". Consuming my energy with thoughts of "where to next?" and "oh, how I wish" is a symptom of my failure to honor my purpose for being here and disregard the totality of my "failures", disappointments, triumphs, prayers, and general life experiences that prepared and led me to be here. I certainly want to end up in the best place for my family and me, but I no longer want to write the detailed prescription [even in my head] for the best place for me to be. And I certainly don't intend to endlessly daydream, research, imagine, anticipate, and wonder about the next place as I did in the recent past.
I'm looking forward to living where I'm needed most, where I'll be able to influence lasting, positive change, and where my family will thrive.
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