Today was another day of the slow countdown to our doomed destinies that will be revealed to us on Monday at orientation. I slept in while my roommate began doing his Allah-friendly dawn prayers. It's kinda funny to me, 'cause he definitely likes to sleep in. Myself, I pray whenever and read my Bible whenever and occasionally pop into church. But Jesus is a bit of a different God from my understanding. I woke up to the sound of internet. The provider had finally come and now our room was incredibly popular because we were the only ones with internet access. My life was changed as I was finally able to post things to Instagram and Facebook and text with my friends on a more consistent basis, and I stopped worrying about how I was going to get the money from my U.S. account to pay for my dorm, 'cause apparently online banking is a thing here, but the local bank teller didn't seem to know that much about that.
There are two other Christians, both Eastern Orthodox, and though a few things about their denomination are iffy to me, I'm pretty happy to find whatever kinds of Christians I can.
Tomorrow I'm hoping to go to church. But considering that I don't know where any protestant churches are or when they start, I'm not getting my hopes up. Maybe I'll start a Bible study. Who knows?
My roommate learned today that I'm introverted, and, being extraverted, he doesn't know how to deal with me. I'm a new creature in his world. He doesn't realize that it's perfectly fine for me to go back to the room while everyone is hanging out and just read a book by myself. Or, if everyone else is around, for me to just go for a walk. In fact, I think I'm the only introvert here. Everyone is trying to be friends with everyone at all times. I hope this internet shuts them up so I can be alone and study forever...
Saturday, August 30, 2014
August 29, 2014
We met some other Med 1 (first semester of med school) students today. The hallway I live on has a crew that has kinda bonded in the past two days that we've been here. We went to campus for the first time today and, consequently, had internet for the first time since arriving at Nevis. I let family know I'm alive, signed up for classes, then went "to town", the town of Charleston. This is where banks and grocery stores and something closer to civilization lives. I set up a bank account and then learned that I can't just transfer money over from my bank electronically. I have to give them cash. Which means that really, setting up a bank account feels like it was a waste of time. Online banking still hasn't properly arrived in Nevis and it shows. However, I might be able to do it online, so hope remains when I get internet again.
Speaking of which, I have already been (over)charged for internet and they did not set it up at the time promised ("tomorrow if you sign up tonight). So I will be having a strongly worded conversation with the sales rep who got us hooked on day one.
Due to the strong Muslim presence here, there aren't nearly as many drinkers. This makes it look even more weird when I buy five different beers and a bottle of rum (all locally produced) from the grocery store. But one of the three white people I've met also seems to have the same train of thought, so I hopefully won't be alone in it.
My roommate is Muslim and doesn't drink. He also said that he can't even pass me a beer or anything. Holding alcohol is apparently off-limits.
I met one other Christian. He's Eastern Orthodox, which is cool, because it's still Christian. He and I talked beers and I thought it wonderful. There's at least one other student who's Christian.
Someone freaked out in the shuttle bus today when they accidentally referred to me as "white" in front of me. This has never. Ever. Happened. So I started calling myself cracker and honkey and whatever else, and encouraged them to try to come up with good white people jokes. Try to offend me. 'Cause most white people jokes I know of are about us being wealthy and privileged.
Anyway, these days are long and confusing. With the sun going down at 6:30 PM, my internal clock is even more screwed up than usual.
I'm debating whether to get up and brush my teeth, considering that my roommate is asleep and I also don't wanna get up and do it. I wanted to pretty myself up for orientation, but I honestly don't think that I'm gonna meet anyone I'm interested in. Even aside from the malnourishedly skinny criteria, I don't really feel attracted to this ethnic a crowd. But hey, maybe there will be one girl I haven't met who just happens to be exactly the one and I'll feel like an idiot for NOT BRUSHING MY TEETH TONIGHT.
August 28, 2014
Well, I made it to Nevis. I brought only $23 cash with me, so I've already had to borrow money for the taxi and boat from St Kitts. I've been hanging out with seven other students who are living in the same dorm and I remain the only white person. But everyone is super friendly and the dorm situation has a lil' bit of the college feel, just with more of a deserted island feel to it. We only have to live here for 3 1/2 months. Then we get to live in apartments or houses.
My roommate, a Pakistani Canadian Muslim, saw me reading my Bible and asked if I was religious. I said "yes" and he replied that he has a lot to learn from me (and I returned the sentiment). I get to learn about this new religion in a pleasant context, and I also get to share the gospel. But mostly, I'm feeling like there's so much to manage here that when classes start, it may just be overwhelming.
In any case, I get to sleep tonight and enjoy exploring Nevis tomorrow. My adventuresome spirit that had been kicked down after Europe is trying to rise up once again.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
25 hours.
In 25 hours, I leave this country that I have so learned to appreciate in the past several months. It was during the last year that I discovered my body's almost allergic reaction to patriotic movies, causing me to become misty-eyed at particularly stirring moments in spite of my perfect mental health and stoic persona. Soon, I will be living in a new country. On an island. With new humans. I will go into it knowing no one and working harder than I've ever worked in my life. Or else I won't achieve the calling that God has for me. But in defiance against all counselors and advisors of note in my life, God has so far prevailed. Or, at least, told me to keep working.
So now I'm considerably packed and am becoming more and more apprehensive of what's to come. But unlike with my trip to Europe, I'm not actively disliking this. It'll be a shock to get myself back into hardcore healthy academic life, but after my last year as an undergrad and this past gap year, I'm pretty sure I can do anything.
Say what you will about gap years and living life as an adult, but it grows you. And even if you do things wrong (like not work on relationships or go to church or ever leave your house), you can learn from it and appreciate where you are now.
There are so many questions and ideas scattered in my mind that I've been putting off 'cause it's so much to think of, especially since I've put off all such thoughts for the three months since I've been back. How will I sing without a car and without a regular Christian chapel service during the week? Is there karaoke (I just checked and yes, on Monday nights not far from my school). What about love? Will I find it? If so, how many? How soon will I have to change my Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/everything else to private because doctors can't have fun on social media? Will I like rum? Will I be taller than my roommate? Will I be the token white dude in friend groups at this school that appears to be largely attended by Arab humans? Will I learn to scuba dive?
So now I'm considerably packed and am becoming more and more apprehensive of what's to come. But unlike with my trip to Europe, I'm not actively disliking this. It'll be a shock to get myself back into hardcore healthy academic life, but after my last year as an undergrad and this past gap year, I'm pretty sure I can do anything.
Say what you will about gap years and living life as an adult, but it grows you. And even if you do things wrong (like not work on relationships or go to church or ever leave your house), you can learn from it and appreciate where you are now.
There are so many questions and ideas scattered in my mind that I've been putting off 'cause it's so much to think of, especially since I've put off all such thoughts for the three months since I've been back. How will I sing without a car and without a regular Christian chapel service during the week? Is there karaoke (I just checked and yes, on Monday nights not far from my school). What about love? Will I find it? If so, how many? How soon will I have to change my Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/everything else to private because doctors can't have fun on social media? Will I like rum? Will I be taller than my roommate? Will I be the token white dude in friend groups at this school that appears to be largely attended by Arab humans? Will I learn to scuba dive?
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Impermanence
Friends and I talked today about the future since I'm a few days from shipping off. I told them that I won't be a real practicing doctor till I'm at least 31.
We all want to build up a community of close friends and family. We all want to easily have a go-to group that we could raise our own families with. But as for me, I feel too impermanent. Eight months working a job, three months in Europe, three months at home, then two years on an island, two years in whatever locations my clinicals take place, three years (minimum) residency, and then I get to start working as medical missionary. Which, as it happens, will also involve a state of impermanence as I go to work in needy areas, likely for months at a time.
I just feel like all I usually have is God and myself and occasionally I get to see a good friend. Those occasions will be further in between now...unless med school is full of people like me. But we all know that I'm a bit of a mutation that isn't likely to see a double anytime soon. And that's probably for the best anyway. I can hardly deal with one of myself.
We all want to build up a community of close friends and family. We all want to easily have a go-to group that we could raise our own families with. But as for me, I feel too impermanent. Eight months working a job, three months in Europe, three months at home, then two years on an island, two years in whatever locations my clinicals take place, three years (minimum) residency, and then I get to start working as medical missionary. Which, as it happens, will also involve a state of impermanence as I go to work in needy areas, likely for months at a time.
I just feel like all I usually have is God and myself and occasionally I get to see a good friend. Those occasions will be further in between now...unless med school is full of people like me. But we all know that I'm a bit of a mutation that isn't likely to see a double anytime soon. And that's probably for the best anyway. I can hardly deal with one of myself.
Monday, August 18, 2014
A Few Goodbyes
I visited Arkansas for the last time for a long while. Where else could visiting with a friend consist of walking through Walmart for an hour and a half (none of us planning on making a purchase)?
I never visit Arkansas and then think to myself "I should have done something else this weekend." It's always worthwhile. Or, at least, it is this last time. It might still be nice if I visit in four months. I doubt it will still be as nice in two to four to seven years. People change, move, become worse or better. But at this point, most were still worth being around, and I learned things about myself and others that I wouldn't have learned otherwise. That is a great measure of whether you should be around particular people.
I also visited Tulsa, where I said goodbye to a good friend (the only roommate I ever chose) who will also be leaving the country to go to school for years.
It's a weird feeling, all of this. It's not like graduating high school or college, where there's a chance to ease out of where you're at with occasional visits. I'm going to an island and the world, along with the people I knew in it, will be very different by the time I see them again. Some will likely be married. Some might even have children. A lot are similar to me, getting out of a sucky phase of life to one that, though also sucky, is also filled with purpose, which makes it all worthwhile.
I never visit Arkansas and then think to myself "I should have done something else this weekend." It's always worthwhile. Or, at least, it is this last time. It might still be nice if I visit in four months. I doubt it will still be as nice in two to four to seven years. People change, move, become worse or better. But at this point, most were still worth being around, and I learned things about myself and others that I wouldn't have learned otherwise. That is a great measure of whether you should be around particular people.
I also visited Tulsa, where I said goodbye to a good friend (the only roommate I ever chose) who will also be leaving the country to go to school for years.
It's a weird feeling, all of this. It's not like graduating high school or college, where there's a chance to ease out of where you're at with occasional visits. I'm going to an island and the world, along with the people I knew in it, will be very different by the time I see them again. Some will likely be married. Some might even have children. A lot are similar to me, getting out of a sucky phase of life to one that, though also sucky, is also filled with purpose, which makes it all worthwhile.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
What Can We Do?
My brother and I were discussing the events in Ferguson, MO tonight, and we each had very different approaches. His thoughts were to this effect: someone high up is pulling the strings, everything would be better if everyone had guns, and some other conspiracy theorist things. It led me to further develop my own thoughts.
Our founding fathers spent FOREVER trying to make a constitution and form a proper government that would have the greatest chance of success, avoiding corruption. This is why we have checks and balances. However, as can be found in one of the Federalist papers, the last check on the checks and balances that isn't as official or well-known is the people. The people have a voice. Not just a voice, but a responsibility.
My view in the face of injustice (and justice too) is that each of us has a chance to do the best that we can with what we have. To the best of my knowledge, our votes still have value. So do our actions. In this day and age, our social networking voices can be heard. People can make a huge difference if they just try. If we just try. If I just try.
I learned from my parents' divorce that blaming does no good for anyone. If you view people as people, blame doesn't hold well for the accused or accuser, 'cause who likes to just yell "YOU DID IT" at someone who knows and understands that they did it? Instead, we need to look around us, see what each of us can do, and do. Because if we don't, the world will get worse.
Our founding fathers spent FOREVER trying to make a constitution and form a proper government that would have the greatest chance of success, avoiding corruption. This is why we have checks and balances. However, as can be found in one of the Federalist papers, the last check on the checks and balances that isn't as official or well-known is the people. The people have a voice. Not just a voice, but a responsibility.
My view in the face of injustice (and justice too) is that each of us has a chance to do the best that we can with what we have. To the best of my knowledge, our votes still have value. So do our actions. In this day and age, our social networking voices can be heard. People can make a huge difference if they just try. If we just try. If I just try.
I learned from my parents' divorce that blaming does no good for anyone. If you view people as people, blame doesn't hold well for the accused or accuser, 'cause who likes to just yell "YOU DID IT" at someone who knows and understands that they did it? Instead, we need to look around us, see what each of us can do, and do. Because if we don't, the world will get worse.
Saturday, August 9, 2014
Gap Year: A Lonely Tale
I'm finishing up this gap year now. It's been the hardest year of my life thus far, I think. It began the day after graduation, when I began studying for the MCAT. I had to say goodbye to friends and so many things I loved. We played a drinking game as we tore down the #blanketfort. Every time we cut twine or pulled out a pin that held it up, we drank. My friends sarcastically (but then also really) held me down as I did the job. It represented so much. And it created an atmosphere that I've never felt before but hope to feel again.
Then I moved back to Texas. I studied and studied. But I didn't have the six months I needed. I had two and a half. I went to pool parties with friends in Dallas and studied for the MCAT while I was there. I drank the most liquor at once that I've ever done, and consequently had the worst hangover I've ever had. But God even used that for my benefit I think, getting me out of a situation.
And in the midst of studying, I got a call. And I said "yes". I was offered the chance to replace someone who'd dropped out of a medical mission trip to South America. I didn't even know where we were headed at first, but all travel and stuff had already been paid for. And so I went a few weeks later and it was an incredible example of a doctor working in the world of medicine and in ministry. Their family was there too, teenage daughters. Such an incredible example of what my future could be. And it also gave me the chance to be useful, to have purpose, which is what I absolutely adore about being a missionary.
A week after that trip, I began working at the neurologist's office. It was an enormous privilege, and I don't think I was qualified, but they took me on just the same. An unpaid intern for a month, then (after I accidentally deceived them) I became a full-time medical assistant.
That's right. I did it. I did what my family (on my dad's side at least) had always made out to be the pinnacle of human worth: a full-time job. And I learned that I don't like it. I listened to "Making Money" by Ben Rector very frequently during my hour-long commute to remind me that the low hourly wage wasn't my reason for working there. I had the privilege of working for a very good doctor, and to have a huge amount of patient interaction. After a time, my reason for getting up in the morning (SO EARLY) wasn't to please the office manager or even the doctor. I got up because people needed help and I was essential for getting them that help in a timely manner.
The patient base grew when I joined, which I firmly believe is something beyond correlation. Things get blessed when I'm around because I'm a real Christian. Another doctor retired and did something apparently unheard of, passing on all of his patients to the doctor I worked for. And then the medical assistant who taught me most everything I knew (and was far better at it) turned in her two weeks' notice. I was part-time at this point because I had realized that working full time is the worst, but the office manager asked me if I would go full time for the sake of giving him time to hire a better replacement. And then the office manager fired the receptionist (which he was totally right to do) and all the while, the practice was growing with the number of patients to handle, so I was already working two jobs, but then had to work another. Three jobs at once at the office was happening for a time, and then when replacements came, I couldn't train anyone like I had been trained because I was working three jobs and just trying to pass one of them off so I could keep my head above water.
But one bright spot in the middle of that came when I was talking to the doctor in her office after work and she told me that she was "impressed" with how I'd been handling everything. My reply was that I was just trying to keep my head above water.
Throughout these months, I had been reading travel blogs at night before going to bed. All of these beautiful places and people writing about how much they'd learned and how much better they were from it, and here I was stuck, just helping people. I liked the job. It was mentally stimulating and seeing patients also helped my communication skills like crazy. When I interviewed for my future med school, I was fantastic on the phone 'cause a lot of my job was on the phone. But when I got home for the day, or even on the weekend, I didn't want to do anything. No editing that video from the Amazon, no creative side projects you promised yourself you'd complete after graduating from college, NOTHING. Just drink the bottle of wine you earned by taking care of patients and lose yourself in a movie and then pass out. I didn't socialize that often 'cause my friends weren't as great of people and I didn't want to get worse. I was also incredibly thrift 'cause everything was done with the idea in mind that every penny saved is a penny to use in Europe. At first, I was driving to Arkansas every other week to visit friends. But then, two things happened: it was expensive and they got used to it. So I stopped visiting for a month or two at a time, and I liked that friends appreciated my presence more. But I saw them less...
And then a beautiful thing happened. A lot of my friends graduated. I got to see them fairly frequently and things were looking up. But then I got accepted into a medical school and received enough denials from others to be sure of what was going on. I had somewhere to go now. This meant that I could finally plan my trip to Europe. So just when my friends were all moving back to the same area, when we were all excited to have a little group to hang out with all the time, I made my Europe plans. I bought the plane tickets and informed the office manager that I was leaving for Europe and probably wouldn't be coming back to work (a month and a half in advance, 'cause two weeks' notices are stupid at a doctor's office). I trained the new employees who would replace me and began the process of dreading the decision I had made. I didn't do Europe the way that people do Europe. I was going there to better myself, to face challenges and meet people and to not have money. It was a walkabout, a sabbatical. And I knew that if I did it the way I planned to do it, I wouldn't like it. So instead of dreaming about traveling, I secretly loathed it. It's like having a big test coming up, except that everyone is jealous that you get to take it because it looks more like a hand painting station. It was so much harder than hand painting.
But I did it. I ditched my friends and family and left a great many comforts behind and immersed myself in a way that I'd never been challenged to do before. I learned that real Christians are even harder to come by than I'd thought (and I wasn't exactly rounding up before). I learned that I have an almost-Canadian accent because it's so easy to understand, and that my sister's accent is far more southern. I learned what it's like to be conned and how it never settles well if you try to even things out against someone else if you've been conned. I learned to be a jerk in times of need. I learned that I am much more attractive than the average person, and learned to stop being so impressed with a girl just because she speaks/is French. Girl, I'm still way prettier than you. I learned that, at least from those I saw, there appear to be more attractive men than women in the world. I learned that there are a LOT of attractive women in Turkey, but I also learned that their culture is INCREDIBLY foreign. I learned to stop caring about looking really good every time I go outside (but I'm working on correcting that back to good standards). I learned that I'm into way too young of girls, and that it's dangerous to flirt in bars in Europe because the drinking age can be as low as 16 (and people often have fake IDs). I learned that snuggling for body heat can make a girl like you a LOT and it can be hard to shake. This reiterated the point that I'm good looking and it's a problem until I find someone whose looks will complement mine a lil' and we get hitched and all that.
I also learned that I missed my friends and the ideal time of friendship that I had left behind. I learned that I don't ever want to backpack through Europe like this again, at least not for this length of time. I learned that Europe needs Christ more than a lot of places I've been. Europe needs real Christians. I learned just how much I appreciate clean clothes and showers. I learned to appreciate having a car with good mileage, so I never, EVER have to worry about finding a place to sleep or a way to get somewhere. I learned, more than ever, that I wish I had someone to share it all with.
And then I got back. Aside from attending a friend's wedding, the first two or three weeks after my return are a blur. I slept soundly and drank wine and loudly watched movies on a tv without having to care about other people in a hostel or waking up the next day or anything else. I hung out with my brothers (usually one or the other) pretty constantly, depending on who was living at the same house as me. After working so much on keeping my accent pure, I learned to slur my speech and mess with words again, because my family gets bored of the English language and enjoys making it more difficult. I did odd jobs for my parents, moving furniture or doing chores. I went to my family's 4th of July party where my aunt and uncle laughed in my face when I told them I was underpaid and overworked when I had my job. I was quietly informed that my assessment was incorrect, though they knew nothing of the situation I had been in. And from there, I've really mostly been trying to cram as much NetFlix through my eye sockets as possible, 'cause I'll soon be without it. We'll get NetFlix on the island, but I won't be using it.
Then I moved back to Texas. I studied and studied. But I didn't have the six months I needed. I had two and a half. I went to pool parties with friends in Dallas and studied for the MCAT while I was there. I drank the most liquor at once that I've ever done, and consequently had the worst hangover I've ever had. But God even used that for my benefit I think, getting me out of a situation.
And in the midst of studying, I got a call. And I said "yes". I was offered the chance to replace someone who'd dropped out of a medical mission trip to South America. I didn't even know where we were headed at first, but all travel and stuff had already been paid for. And so I went a few weeks later and it was an incredible example of a doctor working in the world of medicine and in ministry. Their family was there too, teenage daughters. Such an incredible example of what my future could be. And it also gave me the chance to be useful, to have purpose, which is what I absolutely adore about being a missionary.
A week after that trip, I began working at the neurologist's office. It was an enormous privilege, and I don't think I was qualified, but they took me on just the same. An unpaid intern for a month, then (after I accidentally deceived them) I became a full-time medical assistant.
That's right. I did it. I did what my family (on my dad's side at least) had always made out to be the pinnacle of human worth: a full-time job. And I learned that I don't like it. I listened to "Making Money" by Ben Rector very frequently during my hour-long commute to remind me that the low hourly wage wasn't my reason for working there. I had the privilege of working for a very good doctor, and to have a huge amount of patient interaction. After a time, my reason for getting up in the morning (SO EARLY) wasn't to please the office manager or even the doctor. I got up because people needed help and I was essential for getting them that help in a timely manner.
The patient base grew when I joined, which I firmly believe is something beyond correlation. Things get blessed when I'm around because I'm a real Christian. Another doctor retired and did something apparently unheard of, passing on all of his patients to the doctor I worked for. And then the medical assistant who taught me most everything I knew (and was far better at it) turned in her two weeks' notice. I was part-time at this point because I had realized that working full time is the worst, but the office manager asked me if I would go full time for the sake of giving him time to hire a better replacement. And then the office manager fired the receptionist (which he was totally right to do) and all the while, the practice was growing with the number of patients to handle, so I was already working two jobs, but then had to work another. Three jobs at once at the office was happening for a time, and then when replacements came, I couldn't train anyone like I had been trained because I was working three jobs and just trying to pass one of them off so I could keep my head above water.
But one bright spot in the middle of that came when I was talking to the doctor in her office after work and she told me that she was "impressed" with how I'd been handling everything. My reply was that I was just trying to keep my head above water.
Throughout these months, I had been reading travel blogs at night before going to bed. All of these beautiful places and people writing about how much they'd learned and how much better they were from it, and here I was stuck, just helping people. I liked the job. It was mentally stimulating and seeing patients also helped my communication skills like crazy. When I interviewed for my future med school, I was fantastic on the phone 'cause a lot of my job was on the phone. But when I got home for the day, or even on the weekend, I didn't want to do anything. No editing that video from the Amazon, no creative side projects you promised yourself you'd complete after graduating from college, NOTHING. Just drink the bottle of wine you earned by taking care of patients and lose yourself in a movie and then pass out. I didn't socialize that often 'cause my friends weren't as great of people and I didn't want to get worse. I was also incredibly thrift 'cause everything was done with the idea in mind that every penny saved is a penny to use in Europe. At first, I was driving to Arkansas every other week to visit friends. But then, two things happened: it was expensive and they got used to it. So I stopped visiting for a month or two at a time, and I liked that friends appreciated my presence more. But I saw them less...
And then a beautiful thing happened. A lot of my friends graduated. I got to see them fairly frequently and things were looking up. But then I got accepted into a medical school and received enough denials from others to be sure of what was going on. I had somewhere to go now. This meant that I could finally plan my trip to Europe. So just when my friends were all moving back to the same area, when we were all excited to have a little group to hang out with all the time, I made my Europe plans. I bought the plane tickets and informed the office manager that I was leaving for Europe and probably wouldn't be coming back to work (a month and a half in advance, 'cause two weeks' notices are stupid at a doctor's office). I trained the new employees who would replace me and began the process of dreading the decision I had made. I didn't do Europe the way that people do Europe. I was going there to better myself, to face challenges and meet people and to not have money. It was a walkabout, a sabbatical. And I knew that if I did it the way I planned to do it, I wouldn't like it. So instead of dreaming about traveling, I secretly loathed it. It's like having a big test coming up, except that everyone is jealous that you get to take it because it looks more like a hand painting station. It was so much harder than hand painting.
But I did it. I ditched my friends and family and left a great many comforts behind and immersed myself in a way that I'd never been challenged to do before. I learned that real Christians are even harder to come by than I'd thought (and I wasn't exactly rounding up before). I learned that I have an almost-Canadian accent because it's so easy to understand, and that my sister's accent is far more southern. I learned what it's like to be conned and how it never settles well if you try to even things out against someone else if you've been conned. I learned to be a jerk in times of need. I learned that I am much more attractive than the average person, and learned to stop being so impressed with a girl just because she speaks/is French. Girl, I'm still way prettier than you. I learned that, at least from those I saw, there appear to be more attractive men than women in the world. I learned that there are a LOT of attractive women in Turkey, but I also learned that their culture is INCREDIBLY foreign. I learned to stop caring about looking really good every time I go outside (but I'm working on correcting that back to good standards). I learned that I'm into way too young of girls, and that it's dangerous to flirt in bars in Europe because the drinking age can be as low as 16 (and people often have fake IDs). I learned that snuggling for body heat can make a girl like you a LOT and it can be hard to shake. This reiterated the point that I'm good looking and it's a problem until I find someone whose looks will complement mine a lil' and we get hitched and all that.
I also learned that I missed my friends and the ideal time of friendship that I had left behind. I learned that I don't ever want to backpack through Europe like this again, at least not for this length of time. I learned that Europe needs Christ more than a lot of places I've been. Europe needs real Christians. I learned just how much I appreciate clean clothes and showers. I learned to appreciate having a car with good mileage, so I never, EVER have to worry about finding a place to sleep or a way to get somewhere. I learned, more than ever, that I wish I had someone to share it all with.
And then I got back. Aside from attending a friend's wedding, the first two or three weeks after my return are a blur. I slept soundly and drank wine and loudly watched movies on a tv without having to care about other people in a hostel or waking up the next day or anything else. I hung out with my brothers (usually one or the other) pretty constantly, depending on who was living at the same house as me. After working so much on keeping my accent pure, I learned to slur my speech and mess with words again, because my family gets bored of the English language and enjoys making it more difficult. I did odd jobs for my parents, moving furniture or doing chores. I went to my family's 4th of July party where my aunt and uncle laughed in my face when I told them I was underpaid and overworked when I had my job. I was quietly informed that my assessment was incorrect, though they knew nothing of the situation I had been in. And from there, I've really mostly been trying to cram as much NetFlix through my eye sockets as possible, 'cause I'll soon be without it. We'll get NetFlix on the island, but I won't be using it.
Friday, August 8, 2014
Introverted Goodbyes
Being introverted is difficult. I've got three weeks left in this country, then I'm gone for a long while. I hung out with an old friend tonight after working through the heat of the day in Texas (100 degrees of fun) and cut it short afterwards. In the olden days, we would've gone to his house to play video games or something, hung out with the rest of the family, then talked about life a little bit as we went to sleep. But I was pretty done after a few hours.
But at the same time, I know I'm about to be gone. I won't see these people again for at least four months, but more likely it'll be two years. Or more. I dunno.
I'm excited to ditch the life I'm living and jump back into a world of learning with an entire new culture and people surrounding me. But I'm also not happy about ditching the last vestiges of moments that seem to sparkle, the moments that only come when I'm with my JBU friends. Those moments seem to have largely faded away with my Texas friends, and they're fading fast with my JBU friends. And that last trickle that remains is about to be left behind. Because really, I don't know how likeable any of them will be when I return. I don't know how likeable I'll be when I return.
Maybe someday, when I have a #blanketfort again, things will be simpler and there will be a healthy consistency in my life besides God.
That #blanketfort has come to represent a critical time in my life. My creativity was manifest in a construct of my own design and I was able to study un-creative things in it. When it came time to study hard, I was in an atmosphere that was comfortable, aesthetically pleasing, and relaxing. I found an incredible balance in sleep, academics, and workout schedules. I didn't even pull all-nighters, which I had ALWAYS done in past years at school.
Hopefully island life will help me similarly, though I don't see it comparing to the #blanketfort, since I won't be the architect of the place where I'm sleeping.
I want to want to hang out with friends, and I want the times we hang out to be perfect, but they probably won't be, and then I'll leave forever. Lalalalala
But at the same time, I know I'm about to be gone. I won't see these people again for at least four months, but more likely it'll be two years. Or more. I dunno.
I'm excited to ditch the life I'm living and jump back into a world of learning with an entire new culture and people surrounding me. But I'm also not happy about ditching the last vestiges of moments that seem to sparkle, the moments that only come when I'm with my JBU friends. Those moments seem to have largely faded away with my Texas friends, and they're fading fast with my JBU friends. And that last trickle that remains is about to be left behind. Because really, I don't know how likeable any of them will be when I return. I don't know how likeable I'll be when I return.
Maybe someday, when I have a #blanketfort again, things will be simpler and there will be a healthy consistency in my life besides God.
That #blanketfort has come to represent a critical time in my life. My creativity was manifest in a construct of my own design and I was able to study un-creative things in it. When it came time to study hard, I was in an atmosphere that was comfortable, aesthetically pleasing, and relaxing. I found an incredible balance in sleep, academics, and workout schedules. I didn't even pull all-nighters, which I had ALWAYS done in past years at school.
Hopefully island life will help me similarly, though I don't see it comparing to the #blanketfort, since I won't be the architect of the place where I'm sleeping.
I want to want to hang out with friends, and I want the times we hang out to be perfect, but they probably won't be, and then I'll leave forever. Lalalalala
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