I'm Baaaaaaack!!

After several long weeks of saying goodbye to my Nicaraguan home, I am finally back in my Michigan home. And I can't even express the utter joy I feel right now. Happiness doesn't begin to cover it. I feel light, excited, giddy even.  And a little bit cold too :)

Which isn't to say the move has been easy! Weird might be a better word to use. I've come home, and yet it feels so very alien. Things are the same and yet nothing is. I have a new room. Actually, my family has renovated several rooms in our house. We even have a new dining room table. Rhys is taller than Evan and I now hug his waist. Evan has a funky new hairstyle and a beard. Sarah and Jordan have a new home and a new puppy.  Mom's hair is longer and Dad's hair is grayer.  I hardly recognize us.

West Michigan, I’ve noticed, is very different too. My church has a new sanctuary.  There are new coffee houses and breweries on every corner.  Our gas station has a new walk-in beer cooler. There’s a new Japanese restaurant near home, plus countless others I’m sure I don’t know about yet. There's even an outlet mall not 10 minutes from my house. 

And that's just the start of what's new here!  Apparently, I am going to feel like a tourist here for a while.

But I'm excited about it :) I get to wander the streets of downtown and rediscover the hidden treasures there. I get to be excited about colder weather and cloudy days. I get to indulge in holiday delicacies like candy canes and peppermint mochas. I get to revel in a new wardrobe of sweaters, scarves, hats and boots.

Most of all, I get to see you all again.

I know I'm different. And I know you're different. I look forward to getting to know you again :)

Until it's Gone

“Only hate the road when you’re missing home.  Only know you love her when you let her go.”  These lines keep running through my head, the catchy tune in Michael Rosenberg’s folksy voice and a guitar strumming away in the background.  I’ve always loved the lyrics to his song “Let Her Go” as I feel they describe oh so well several moments in my life.  Now, more than ever, I feel like it’s my theme song, played in the background of some epic movie about a girl who goes off on adventures and makes her home wherever her feet tread, only to realize she misses that which she has left behind.

The truth of the matter is: I don’t really know it’s been my home until it’s not anymore.  Does that make any sense?  Yesterday, I had this really surreal moment of trying to feel sad about moving and leaving everything I have come to love here in Nicaragua… and I just couldn’t feel as sad as I wanted to.  It then dawned on me that, as I soak up all these last moments here and savor every bit of adventure left, I won’t miss it here until I’m gone.  I won’t miss the sun and heat until I’m stuck in the snowy cold north.  I won’t miss the crowded streets and the nosy hustle and bustle of city life until I’m trying to sleep at night and all I can hear is the wind and the crickets.  I won’t miss the people here who I’ve come to call family until I feel the distance of the thousands of miles between us. 

I won’t miss it until it’s gone.

But, Nicaragua, do not worry! 

For I will miss you, that I can guarantee.

I will miss your green hills and volcanoes that line the horizon.

I will miss your sunny smile that wakes me in the early hours of the morning.

I will miss your sandy beaches and palm trees and salty waves.

I will miss your noisy markets and streets full of traffic, animals, people and random surprises.

I will miss your fireworks and parades and marching bands and spontaneity. 

I will miss your people and their open hearts that have welcomed me here and loved me as family.

I will miss you, a lot.

But not until I have left you.

So, Nicaragua, in a few days when I finally leave your land, wave me goodbye and wipe away your tears,

Knowing that I leave a piece of my heart behind.

And that someday, I will come back to get it.

How Long Does a Goodbye Last?

Today, as I'm sweating from the intense tropical heat, it's hard to understand that we have arrived at the first day of December.  Yes, here in León we have Christmas music playing on the radio, Christmas decorations and gifts for sale everywhere, and Christmas lights decorating houses here and there. Sometimes you can even get a glimpse of a decorated tree in someone's living room. Even so, it doesn't really feel like December should be here yet... Like when did that happen?

I also have to admit that as I sit here and type these words, my sight is a tad blurry from unshed tears.  Quite suddenly it's hit me just how close the end is.  I know I am not leaving for another 20 days, but guys, I'm leaving in 20 days!

I've already started saying goodbye. To people. To places.  I've started planning the bigger goodbyes, going-away parties with my students, my host families, my coworkers, my friends. My next couple weeks are going to be filled with these goodbyes.

And I hate it.

I hate saying goodbye. I hate thinking that in just a little while I won't see you again. I hate knowing that I won't be able to just pop over and chat with you in your kitchen, or meet you for coffee, or enjoy a random parade or fireworks or a gigantonas performance that we run into on the street. I hate to admit that there will be no more street-food dates at that place behind the cathedral, no more long bus rides together to Managua, no more jaywalking and dodging traffic, no more movie nights in our living room. Really, I just can't stand the fact that I have no idea if I'll see you again.

So how long does a goodbye last?

A few weeks? A few months? A few years? Forever?

I know I want to see you again. I want to go to the beach with you again, watch the sunset, marvel at the stars. I want to have drinks with you on the third floor and spend too much time chatting and people watching. I want to speak Spanglish with you and laugh at how bad our English is getting, or be proud of a new Spanish word or phrase we learned. I want to do spontaneous things with you like birdwatching or going to a concert or going for an ice cream run or running home in the rain. I want to have sleepovers and air-conditioning dates and weekend getaways. I want to just be with you, doing whatever we fancy at that moment.

Bottom line: I don't want this to be an End. No capital E's here. Just nice pauses, a "see you later", a "nos vemos cuando nos veamos".

I’m going to pretend that this isn’t just a fanciful wish of mine, a fleeting hope that “ends” don’t exist, not really.  Yes, I will see you again.  Someday. 

Until then,

Kelsita