The Peruvian Post (Week 7)

I closed my eyes. The jostling of the comvi felt... almost therapeutic. When I opened my eyes, I was starteled to see that the clouds looked normal. Sometimes I get used to life being so profoundly different in nearly every way, that when something is the same, it surprises me.

Life here in Peru has begun to settle down, to feel... somewhat normal, whatever that means. Some days I wake up and think, "Woh! I have a mango tree outside my door. I'm living an incredible adventure. I'm learning how to be Brooke in a world that has never had me before. I'm learning how to communicate in a whole new way. I'm learning how to see the world through eyes that have never thought of water in terms of... water... but agua. I'm learning that I am not me... I'm Jo!... spelled Yo... but, not me." And sometimes, I wake up and think about this new reality, and I feel strong, I feel excited, and I feel so blessed.

And sometimes, I wake up and think about how I would just really like to run barefoot through a mountain stream, or drive myself to town for chai, or wear a cute burnt orange sweater. Or...hug my mama and my best friend. Did you know that you can't send hugs with WiFi or letters? Yeah, I know, it sucks. Somebody talk to Apple about that.

My thoughts have been all over the place. Sometimes I feel discouraged, but then I think;

"Girlfriend, you are learning what it means to see life through an entirely different culture, and it will take time to fully comprehend what that even means. You're learning to function in a life where there are only two people who can fluently communicate with you. You're learning to survive in a life where you just saw the kitchen rat, in person, while you were eating...ahem...and cooking. You're learning that sometimes the dogs will play with dead tarantulas in the living room.

And you know that child that just walked into your room? You're also learning to that they will give a funny look when you ask, "How are you?" because they have no context for what that means. You're learning how to undo all that excellent phonetics training your parents drilled into you from reading tutoring, and learning that your letters say entirely different things now. And, you know, it's okay that it took you so long to correctly say the name of your home country. It isn't the United States, or the USA, or America (usually)... it's estados unidos… no capitals.

You just made a PowerPoint presentation on the importance of keeping your sewer and food separate because some families don't understand that consequences come from contamination.

You are learning so much!"

Sometimes all this discourages me.

I miss my comfort zone.

I miss running barefoot wherever I please. No joke! It's not super safe to walk barefoot here because of parasites. So in the last 7ish weeks, my feet have not touched anything except my socks or my shoes. That is a whole lot weirder to think about than you might realize.

I miss my comfort zone.

I miss feeling put together and cute on more than just Sabbaths. I miss driving down the road and being able to read signs without thinking much about them. I miss remembering it's October based upon the chill in the air. I miss being able to fully express my personality without worrying whether or not I'll offend the new culture.

I miss my comfort zone.

I miss being able to drink from my water bottle without worrying when a little girl at church says, "Oh! I'll get you more water," and then proceeds to fill it up with cool water from her house. I miss having the ability to simply open a can of food when I'm hungry and don't want to cook, instead of fixing food from scratch nearly every meal. (Something I've strived for back home, but don't always follow through with.) I miss having more than just the words and silences of my loved ones to remind me they're still there.

I miss my comfort zone. So, yes, sometimes I get discouraged.

I have to remind myself to take a deep breath and "...allow the space between where I am and where I want to be, to inspire me and not to terrify me." (Tracee Ellis Ross) Sometimes I'm better at this than others.

I'm learning SO MUCH. My Spanish has a long way to go, but it is improving rapidly. I can already carry on conversations with strangers. Those conversations are rough and slow, and peppered with terrible grammar on my part, but they are conversations. And I'm learning about the lives of each person I meet. And, ever so slowly, I'm gaining the ability to show my personality through this new code of communication.

I'm learning how to ignore the spider webs that are inevitably in every building everywhere. I'm learning how to think, "Ehh! That rain water I just accidently drank may or may not kill me, but there's nothing I can do about it now so might as well enjoy my last few hours own earth." Teasing. I knew I wouldn't die, but I am thankful it never made me sick! :p I'm learning how to cook with spices by smell instead of label because I can't always remember what English name corresponds with each Spanish word, and my hands are in the food so looking it up isn't always convenient.

I'm learning that sometimes it will rain and the house will flood in a mere 15 minutes. I'm learning how to praise God in moments when I'm surrounded by 19+ people in a tiny room with a dirt floor and one tiny flame for light. I'm learning to embrace the fact that I now live in a culture where most girls my age have one to three kids already.

I'm learning how to continue looking for the beauty in this world, even though that just got a whole lot harder. It's difficult to look past the trash, sickness, and poverty to the flowers blooming in random places. It's hard to look past poorly constructed buildings to the love we can bring inside them. But I'm learning... I'm continuing to grow. It's not harder to search for beauty than it is back home, it's just different.

But, not everything is different. The clouds still look the same, and love still feels the same.

~TBS~