buttoned down

"It was curious to think that the sky was the same for everybody, in Eurasia or Eastasia as well as here. And the people under the sky were also very much the same--everywhere, all over the world, hundreds or thousands of millions of people just like this, people ignorant of one another's existence, held apart by walls of hatred and lies, and yet almost exactly the same--people who had never learned to think but were storing up in their hearts and bellies and muscles the power that would one day overturn the world." - George Orwell, 1984

I've been back almost a month now. I got a sweet nanny job with an awesome family. I'm living in the girls house in Pasadena again. I can't even avoid speaking some Spanish at least once a week. I love LA.

America is weird and magical. I started off with that vacation feeling I had in June when I visited for Mer's wedding. I often feel like Peru was a dream. It could have been. I have a vivid imagination. The only proof I have are the pictures, the facebook friends, and the Spanish skill. I've been re-reading 1984 so I'm half-convinced that the government was a part of it all. I never lived at an orphanage in Peru. I never knew those amazing children. I never met those amazing women and men who work hard to love those children. But then it happens.

I remember the Lord.

And I remember everything all at once. I remember all the joy, pain, adventures, and people like I was there yesterday. I remember the lessons as if I learned them in my earliest memories. I remember God's faithfulness. I remember the promises He made to me before going to Peru. It's going to kick your butt, Kristi. I'm going to teach you things you never thought you needed to learn. I remember how He kept all his promises.

A word to the wise. When you ask me how Peru was, don't expect me to know. I really don't know. I don't think I'll ever know. I know I was blessed. I know that God was faithful. The best answer I can give you is that Peru was everything. Every adjective you can imagine in English and Spanish is exactly what Peru was.

fanny pack

I'm in Ft. Lauderdale on a 14-hour layover and if it weren't for my book collection and glorious Starbucks WiFi, I would be really cranky right now. But alas, despite having had 4 hours of constantly interrupted airplane sleep and a 9-hour bus ride yesterday from Trujillo to Lima (yes, I've been traveling for over 24 hours now), I am in high spirits. I think part of my contentment is thanks to my fanny pack.

Rihanna knows what's up.

Yeah, I have a fanny pack (canguro in Peruvian Spanish). And proud of it. It's helped me stay organized in my travels home. One of the first fashion trends I noticed upon arrival to Peru was that everyone had a fanny pack. And not just your average middle-aged man or woman. Oh no. Stylish young people who otherwise would pass for middle-class Americans have fanny packs. And brand name fanny packs, no less! Quicksilver, RipCurl, and Nike being the most popular

My roommate the past two months, Alleen, made fun of me when I told her I had a fanny pack. She just doesn't understand Peruvian culture like I do. A pastor friend, Wes, who has been a missionary in Peru for 10 years, has a fanny pack too. I discovered this when he came to help me with some car issues when I first got back to Trujillo in July (long story and no, I didn't have a car in Peru).

Me: "You have a fanny pack!" (I totally tried to keep it cool. Wes is a pastor after all.)
Wes: "Why, yes, I do." (Wes is also a really calm person.)
Me: "Alleen was making fun of me for having a fanny pack! I love mine!" (Again, trying to keep it cool. But I swear I almost hugged him.)
Wes: "They're so practical."
Me: "I know! You need a pen? Oh, I have one right here. Phone? I don't need to dig through my pocket. It's right here."

We bonded. He has no idea how much more I respect him because of his fanny pack.

When I got mine, it was a great adventure with Whitney. We searched all over the outskirts and inner crevices of Mercardo Mayorista (well, I think it was that market, they all look the same to me). The search went something like this:

Me: "WHITNEY!!!!! THIS ONE IS IT!"
Whit: "It's kind of...ugly."
Me: "Yeah, you're right. I don't like it either."

But eventually we both found our perfect fanny packs...mine a burnt orange Quicksilver one and Whitney's a black Nike one with pink accents. And so my journey home continues with my trusty fanny pack.

I already miss you, Peru.

let go

Today was my last visit to the orphanage until who-knows-when. It wasn't as difficult as I expected, nonetheless it was hard. It was a short visit, knowing that I just needed a few moments to take it all in and then let it all go.

Let go of the sound of Jorge screaming "Tía Kristi!" Let go of reading to Alejandro on my lap. Let go of pretending to eat Juan as he laughs hysterically. Let go of Rosita's smile. Let go of Abel's hugs (not so hard to give up since he purposely squeezes too hard haha). Let go of Edwin's laugh. Let go of chasing Consuelo around yelling, "Quiero un abrazo!" Let go of Josue's good and bad moods. Let go of giggling in the Luces. Let go of the smell of rice cooking. Let go of playing on the columpios. Let go of the tears and sweat.


As I walked down the road from the orphanage I told the Lord, "Please take care of my kids." But then I remembered they're His kids. And so I whispered, "Thank You for allowing me to help take care of Your kids this year," as I let the tears flow.

oh hey, life

When I posted "Job hunting! Will take ANY leads in the Greater Los Angeles area! Prefer working with children and/or teens; foster care, youth ministry, education, nanny, etc." on my Facebook profile yesterday, I had no idea most of the comments would be along the line of, "What?? You're back?! What happened?!!" First of all, I had no clue that people pay so much attention to their newsfeeds. Secondly, no, I am not back in America, yet. I am going home earlier than planned, September 1st. A quick rundown on my time in Peru for those who care or are super confused. (Wait, aren't you staying for the rest of your life?)


August 2010: I came to the orphanage planning to stay for one year.
November 2011: I decided to commit to an extra 5 months (until December 2012) because I became the volunteer coordinator.
March 2011: Drama and bad decisions made by orphanage leadership led me to resign as VC as of June 1st.
May 2011: Decided to stay in Trujillo, start teaching English in July, and living with a missionary friend.
June 2011: Visited home for a little under 3 weeks for Meredith's wedding!
August 2011: Decided to leave Trujillo "for good" (the Lord only knows) and move back to LA.


Now, I didn't decide to leave Trujillo because of drama or bad leadership or anything like that. There were a lot of different reasons, I'll list the main ones here:


Feeling
Yeah, I've heard the "don't make decisions based on your feelings" speech before. And trust me, I follow it a lot of the time. But I don't follow it a lot too. I am a huge intuition person and ever since I got back, off and on, I wondered if I was supposed to be here. Like I didn't feel like I fit anywhere really. Like I didn't have a purpose anymore. Yes, I know I am a child of God and He can use me in all circumstances. "Lack of purpose" is just the best phrase that can describe how I've been feeling. I just felt in a way where I knew this wasn't the place for me right now. I would ignore the feeling for days when things felt perfect, but I knew. The only thing that kept me from going right back home was my sense of duty. I had made a commitment to my friend Julie and the ESL company I was working for.


Julie
I'm not saying Julie is a reason for my leaving. She was just a part of the story. She's one of the people who made it harder for me to decide to leave. She is one of the kindest, most genuine, Christian women I've ever met and a wonderful friend. Right when I had decided "once and for all" (I love making concrete decisions then changing my mind. I like to pretend that I'm stubborn and fierce.) to suck it up at least until November because of my commitment to Julie, she decided to step down as the manager of the company. I have nothing against the owners of the company, they are great people. But I didn't commit to them, I committed to Julie. I believe that God uses circumstances as signs and guideposts in life. Julie resigning was probably the final push for my decision to leave Peru.

Schedule
I've been working everyday since I started teaching English here. I have to pay the bills, buy food, and have some fun. So I have to work for the company full time, Monday-Friday, and then I work at an institute on the weekends (Sunday morning too! But I go to church on Sunday night, so not so bad). My total hours teaching isn't more than 25 hours per week (count in planning, there's no way I work more than 40 hours per week). But anyone who has worked everyday just to get by, knows that it's draining. Everyday I have to think, "What class do I have? What lesson?" One full day of rest is rare and I'm not like you workaholics out there, working everyday does not energize me. Plus, I could be working everyday in a job I'm not passionate about in the States where all my closest friends and family are!


Passion
I really do enjoy teaching English. I also liked selling glasses when I worked at LensCrafters. I liked selling chocolate when I worked at Harry & David. I am not passionate about any of those things. I am the type of person who struggles with working in jobs that have no meaning to me. "Man, teaching this rich Peruvian child English so that he can make more money someday is really fulfilling." Nothing against rich Peruvian children, they are just as cute as the Peruvian orphans here, but I don't have a calling to teach English. And the orphanage was a calling on my life, it's hard to be in the same city doing something without the same amount of meaning to me.


Orphanage
The orphanage is okay. The kids are okay without me there. I knew they would be okay. And I didn't feel like things would fall apart without me. I just thought I could help keep things normal for the kids. Or something. There is a new director and always the coming and goings of volunteers, so I thought staying a little longer might help things. And maybe my presence has helped, but my being unhappy for most of the week just for the once-a-week visit to the orphanage? No matter what impact my visit makes, unless the Lord calls me to it, it's not worth it. And He's clearly called me home.


If you made it through all that, I'm surprised but grateful that you care so much. Or maybe you were hoping for some good gossip. Either way, thanks for reading all that. It is all from my heart and I am so grateful for this crazy Peruvian adventure I've been on the past year. Peru will forever be my second home. I love this country, these people, their language, and their culture (even when it stresses me out). Jesus is sneaky and I know he allowed me to come back to show me that I'm not supposed to be here anymore. He is always gracious with me.

rrrrrratón

I went to visit the orphanage last week! (I've been there every Wednesday for the past three weeks.) I saw a friend from LA whose volunteering at the orphanage, Stephanie. That was exciting! She just got here on the 1st (my Peru anniversary!) and I'm so excited for her to experience the awesomeness that is the albergue.

I spent most of my time in the the Luces house today. I enjoyed some chistes with Isabel and Margori (a new girl since I left, Oriana's sister). Among the jokes from Isabel:

"A kid comes home after school and tells his mom, 'Mom, all the kids make fun of me because I have two big front teeth.' The mom responds, 'What? Don't listen to them, my son.' The kid says, 'Okay, thank you, mom. I feel better now.' The mom responds, 'Good! Now close your mouth so that your teeth stop hitting the floor."

My Spanish teacher Marita.

I about died of laughter (after I asked her to explain whatever the phrase she used for "two big front teeth" was). For those of you who know me well, I laugh pretty easily. And I didn't really find the joke itself to be that funny. But it was hilarious to me just because my Isabel was telling it and it was such a "Peruvian" joke. If you've lived in Peru for any amount of time, I think you understand what I mean.

Then there was my hang out time with Marita. Oh man, I love that girl. A little background: I wasn't a fan of Marita when I first arrived. Not that I disliked her, per se. She has a strong personality and likes to tell people what to do. I've never appreciated bossy kids, since childhood (uhhum...Kelsey...). Fast forward a few months into my stay at the orphanage, and Marita became one of my favorites (shhh...I don't have favorites).  I love her spunk and how she says whatever is on her mind. I love her.

In the middle of us talking about nothing in particular, Marita proceeds to teach me how to role my R's. First of all, you people out there who can role your R's, I don't want to hear it! I've just never been able to role my R's. I've lived in Peru for a year and I'm pretty good at Spanish...except my R's! It was hilarious to have pushy Marita shove a pencil in my mouth, lengthwise, in order to aide me in my quest for Spanish pronunciation perfection. She must have learned the trick from one of her gringo tios or tias because she has no problem rolling her R's. "Diga rrrrratón," she told me. I responded, "R...rr....ratón?" She and the rest of the Luces found my lack of ability hilarious. I thank God for them, reminding me I'm not as awesome as I sometimes think I am. At least I'm not as awesome as Marita.

la vida loca

Today:

Student: "Your Spanish is really good! I understood everything you said on the phone yesterday."
Me: "Wow. Thank you! I really appreciate that. I've lived here a year so I should know some Spanish by now."

As of today I've lived in Peru for a year now! Whoa. And man is everything a lot different than how I expected it to be at this time last year. At this exact time last year, I was on a bus a couple hours away from Trujillo feeling nervous, scared, excited, and oh so thankful for the opportunity to serve at the orphanage. I thought by August 1, 2011 that I would be heading home for good. But here I am, living in town and teaching English. So weird. Not to mention the countless experiences I've had this past year...excitement, heartbreak, fear, anger, joy, gratefulness.

Roxana, Juanpier, y yo.

Thank you again to everyone who funded my year (what turned into 10 months) stint at the orphanage. I'm still visiting the kids every week so I'll keep you updated on how they're doing (assuming I become a better blogger like I plan to be!). 

What is the main lesson I've learned in the past 365 days? I've learned a lot of things of course, but the lesson that sticks with me most? He is my Only Hope. Jesus is the Only Hope for anyone and everything in this broken world. And I'm so glad He is.

nacer de nuevo

"Having the reality of God’s presence is not dependent on our being in a particular circumstance or place, but is only dependent on our determination to keep the Lord before us continually." -Oswald Chambers

I've been back in Trujillo for over a month now, doing my English teaching thing. And as it turns out, I really like teaching English! But I must admit, I've been homesick the past week. Not sure why, just missing all the friends, family, and normal things of home. Visiting kept me content for a while, but lately I've found myself missing the simplicity of life at home...not that it was ever super simple, I'm from LA after all...but I know what to expect more when I'm home. Life is "normal" here but it just feels weird not being at the orphanage, and trying to figure out where I fit in.

Last night at church (I teach on Sunday mornings so I have to go to the night service), the sermon was on having a "nacer de nuevo" or being born again. You know, in John 3 where Jesus talks to Nicodemus about seeing the kingdom only if you're born again. It was a great message. (At the end, four people came up to profess their belief in Christ as their Savior!!! I was a little excited.) Today, while reflecting on a billion different decisions and thoughts, I wondered how I could revive myself. Being born again in the Spirit is first when you come to Christ and I've know Jesus since I can remember, my earliest memories he was there. And this past year he's clearly shown himself to me.

Every year, month, week, day, hour, moment I find myself experiencing another new birth with my Savior. I feel as if I'm in a funk of not knowing where the next re-birth will be in my life. I jumped from a very spiritually rich growth experience (in case you're wondering, the orphanage) back into a normal "work, hang out with friends, go to church" world--but in Peru. If you're wondering how to pray for me, pray that I trust that God is here, even when life seems dull, and that he'll reveal what's next for me. Where the next nacer de nuevo will take place. I have no idea. And that's okay because he knows every detail of what's next. My job is rely on him continuously.