Self control vs. Motivation vs. I don't care

I love wine. I'm a firm believer in drinking a glass of wine at night. Preferably a dry red wine. And when I go out I'm a firm believer in having an IPA or two with my friends. Alcohol, coffee, food...they are all substances that bring people together. I usually like to call a friend and "get a drink" because it's cheaper than dinner. I will inevitably have a drink with dinner so...getting a drink works just fine.

Sometimes I'm afraid to calculate how much money I spend in alcohol but it's time to get real real here. I'm trying to go on vacation and that means I need to save some dinero, plata or colones. (I chose Spanish words because I want to go to COSTA RICA on my vacay.)

Here's a snapshot of how much money I could save for my trip:

Week 2 of February 2012

Tobacco Road $11.37 (Happy Hour = glass of wine + app)

Whole Foods $8.90 (burrito + single beer)

City Bev $17.09 (beer + nachos ((best nachos ever))

Roxy $7.00 (one drink!)

James Joyce $10.00 (two beers)

Cosmic Cantina $8.70 (negra modelo+ quesadilla + Worst Date Ever 2012)

Nantucket $10.71 (salad I could have made at my house)

Maybe that's two week's worth of going out. Or maybe I went out more and I'm lying to my public. Needless to say, I could save a lot if I figured out what's important. In the past I have said that I value experiences over things and while I still do, I want to trade the common experience for a better one, in Central America so...my new goal is to get a jar and put the money I would have used for booze INTO THE JAR and then I will be RICH! I will trade this:

for an Imperial Lite on the beach (and don't think that my roommate in this picture will feel left out because she'll be on the beach too). So...unless you are a boy who wants to take me on a date and buy me drinks, let's go for a walk or come over for some chips and salsa and hang out! I will take a pic of the jar with all the $$ I've saved. If you never see that post you will know that I decided "I don't care" and I will just eat rice and beans forever.

Your permission.

Many of you have probably heard this story. If you're reading anyway I give you permission to skim it. That's right - I will allow you to do that.

I was sitting at my lovely oak-colored desk, starting my morning with a small skim mocha when my new boss walked in the office. Remember it's early. The phone rings and I answer in my pleasant phone voice I cultivated at Eurosport. "Thank you calling ------, how can I help you?" I wrap up the conversation neatly and professionally and turn to my boss who is now sitting in the chair across from me.

-Joy, I just wanted to tell you that you are doing a GREAT job.

-Oh thanks...

-I also wanted to tell you that when you answer the phone, I give you permission to use your name.

I look at him very confused, absolutely certain he's not taking this where I think he's taking it.

-Uuuhhhhm...

-Yes, I have heard that in SOME CASES, people need to know they are EMPOWERED! to do things. And this is it. I am giving you permission to be confident.

OMG. He's definitely saying it. I am mentally scrambling for the appropriate words but he has already launched into a story about how a sad little employee from McDonald's always felt guilty about charging a particular customer 15 cents for a cup of water until he said it was ok to charge him.

-You see, Joy, that McDonald's employee was just not confident in herself until someone told her she could do it.

I could tell my blood pressure was rising. I think I closed my eyes for a few seconds. Thankfully it was far too early to react quickly and I very calmly (in work-Joy mode) told him that I feel extremely comfortable on the phone and don't necessarily feel like I need his permission.

I can tell the words aren't getting through.

-Well good, Joy. I'm so glad we had this conversation. Good work. Good work.

What are you most looking forward to?

I have decided to start blogging again. It's been awhile. My lovely (former) roommate, Elizabeth, gave me this amazing Question and Answer book as my moving-away-from-Charlotte gift. Today's question was "Are you holding a grudge against someone?" I answered that for my own personal knowledge and decided to answer tomorrow's question for this entry, which is: What are you most looking forward to?

I love lists. I love New Year's resolutions. I love goals and I love questions that make you think. It can be especially annoying to some people but I love what if questions. What if I reached my goals? What if I didn't get roadblocks everywhere? To start envisioning things that I hope for was a good exercise for me because the past few months have made it difficult to imagine happy endings. After reading this amazing book about creativity, Breakthrough Creativity, I learned that one thing that helps me visualize solutions is to map them out using pictures. So I started doodling little stick figures that depicted the things I'm most looking forward to:

having my own place with a spot for my piano, having two hours out of my week where I get to volunteer at the Mexican consulate, feeling content with whatever job I get, reading the books on my 2011 book list, making one new recipe a month and finding community where I am. It's a neat exercise. Try it. In list form or maybe the stick figures will work for you too.

The shot put type?

Today I updated the "write something about yourself" box on my Facebook page. I don't know why I thought about this incident recently but I chuckled to myself when I thought of the time in 1992 that we went to Colorado for a....homeschooling conference. Among valuable workshops that my parents must have attended, there were also competitions for the kids. The things that stand out to me about this trip are:

1) My Mom's "snowy" pantsuit (which she also wore while shoveling snow this year in 2010). (Check back soon for a real photo!)

2) Feeling proud of myself for doing the high jump really well (for a 9-year-old).

3) Learning to "ski" down a rubber mountain that had dish soap on it.

And finally, getting to the whole updated section on FB...

4) Failing at throwing the shot put and being told I wasn't the "shot put type."

In the moment when I twirled around a couple times with the metal ball and tried to throw it, or "put it" if you will, I realized I was going to fail. The metal ball fell inches away from me. When the person judging tried to encourage me with exclamations like, "You're the runner type! Don't worry about not being the shot put type!" all I could feel was devastation that I couldn't throw the metal ball. In hindsight, I'm glad I finally got some closure on that situation. I occasionally run into these things as an adult. ie: singing, pottery, arts and crafts...but it's ok. I can try things as long as I don't mind failing sometimes.

Adventures with the Neti Pot.

It was day 97 of mouth-breathing and sounded like someone with year-round allergies who had adapted to eliminating the "th" sound out of her vocabulary. I broke down and called my mother who told me to buy a Netti pot. I got off the phone without saying goodbye, rushed down to the closest Rite-Aid in my sick clothes with wadded up toilet paper in my hoodie pocket and and roamed the aisles looking for this scary-sounding mucus wonder. When I was checking out, the clerk asked me if I was playing the game of life.

"Haha, I'm trying...just trying to get well." I said, as I thought, "umm....what...."

Then he hands me about a gazillion little Rite-Aid Life cards to keep playing. For future reference the correct answer is "no thanks."

Anyway, I got home anticipating leading a mucus-free day that consists of breathing and talking normally and a healed nose that is no longer bright red. I read the instructions carefully and laugh to myself at the image of the lady holding the Netti pot up to her nose with water streaming out the other side. So I concoct the water/saline mixture and prepare to be healed. I place the blue thing in my nostril and bend over while tipping my head to the side.

Nothing.

And then I start reading the material again to make sure I'm doing it right. I find everything I want to know about a Neti pot except "how long is it supposed to take?" Wouldn't that be an FAQ? One minute later, still nothing.

I start panicking. What if I drown because the water's not draining out? What if I stop the flow and it gets in my ears and I get a weird ear infection? I keep it there for another couple of minutes that feel like forever and a few drops of water come out the other side.

I finally stop the flow and race to my phone. I just moved into Kristen's house and don't have my computer yet so I call my mom so she can Google "how long for Neti pot to drain" and when my mom doesn't type those exact words, I know it. This is how it went:

"Mom! Can you please Google "how long for Neti pot to drain?" It's not draining! I think I might drown. Quick!"

"How do you spell Neti pot? Ok...let's see...the Neti pot concept has been used for centuries-"

"No, Mom. Did you Google what I said? Not just "Neti pot" but use the words drain, how long, all that." I want to cry.

"Ooooh, well, let me see...did you tilt your head?"

"Yes."

More reading of useless information that will not help me survive this experience.

"Mooom. I'm sorry. I know I'm freaking out but please Google what I said." Finally we find something that says I'm not going to die and that if it doesn't drain out it means one is too congested for the wonder teapot to help.

Awesome.

Since then, the Neti pot has made me more congested and I feel less than great about using it. I've heard it works wonders for people who aren't too bad but I should have expected something like that to happen seeing as how I'm a hypochondriac and everything. Unfortunately this is the most exciting update on my life right now.

Sorrow.

Dear Lord. Please come to us now in our times of sorrow. In our deep, intimate moments that no one else can see except ourselves. Heal the parts of our hearts that hurt from old wounds and doubt. Save us from the old demons who come back to haunt us and tell us lies that are so easy to believe. Strengthen us when we feel alone and empty. May you comfort the people whose lives have been shattered by the earthquake in Haiti. Be with the people who live their lives in angry self-defense and break down their walls. Be with those who cannot see their worth as a human being created in Your likeness. Give grace to us so that we may show grace and forgiveness to others, especially when it hasn't been asked of us. Show us our pride and our selfishness. Show us how to change. Take away the yearning to be right. Heal our hearts and teach us to serve.

Hello Twenty Ten!

Here it is ya'll. A new decade. Twenty freakin Ten. Or as I am still saying...two thousand ten. But I have been informed that that is poor grammar. Or that I'm poor. Or something along those lines. As I type my first blog of the first decade I am excruciatingly aware of many things in my life. I still have not found a car - I don't really have a job - don't really have a plan. But let's not be negative! Here is a small reflection from my journal. I always like to list things I've accomplished in the previous year and my hopes for the year ahead so...

Excerpt from my REAL journal slash it's a little edited:

1. Completed mission work in Los Anonos with amazing experiences and thankfulness.

2. Found part-time summer jobs successfully while fulfilling my dream of working in a coffee shop.

3. Went to language school for three months; made and maintained relationships with people who don't speak English.

4. Learned how to salsa.

5. Improved Spanish skills.

6. Had my 3 year anniversary of no smoking.

7. Became a vegetarian.

Other things of note...I grew strong in my faith only to then go backward which generated a lot of unanswered questions. I discovered my passions in life. I totaled my car. I tried surfing. I met the Caribbean Ocean and went to Nicaragua via chicken buses with two of my Best Friends in the world. I started playing volleyball again. I talked to my dad, albeit briefly, about politics. (Or really we discussed how we don't discuss politics).

As the new decade begins, I am at a crossroads in my life and am trying to seek the Lord for answers. Hello 2010 - I am ready for you.

Stream of bears.

I had originally thought to make this blog a stream of consciousness type deal. I felt like it would help me process a little and it would also serve as an example of how I've been feeling lately. Stressed, overwhelmed, slightly hopeful, angry, hurt, expectant, forgiven, thankful...a whole host of emotions that have culminated into me being a little sensitive and feeling very lost most of the time. The photo describing Surge, Ashleigh and Justin's cat is indicative of...me. Be careful of what emotions may come out.

The things on my desk right now are my camera, my phone, my ipod, a post it note with a lawyer's number on it and the word "accident," a precious card from my friend Bethany, and a black mocha stout that I just finished along with a slice of veggie pizza from Whole Foods. The pizza guy was a little sloppy and gave me a slice too big for the box which made the pizza stick out and that irritated my perfectionist tendencies. It also made the top of the box come open in the car which was kind of annoying.



I think the highlight of the weekend, amidst the trying times of orchestrating life without a car, was when I left my brother's apartment this morning to walk to Starbucks and a random cabdriver said, "Excuse me lady, do you speak Spanish?" I think I probably scared him with how excitedly I ran to the car, "Si!" I practically shouted. Apparently his client didn't speak English and he needed to get to Cary. I think I helped them at least figure out what two roads were involved in the destination and what the name of the apartment complex was. I feel like that small incident was just a reminder of how much I love the Spanish language and how much I want to be using it right now. Watching telenovelas isn't cutting it. Maybe that's what life is. A main question with a vague answer and then a continuous journey of trying to reach the destination.

Details.

Details make things beautiful...an antique broach on a corduroy blazer, the paprika on my grandmother's mashed potato casserole, the swirls on my dad's homemade fudge, the cinnamon sticks in the apple cider. Every detail in life comes with extra effort and sometimes I think it's easy to let the details in our own life fall by the way side.

Details in language have been such a struggle over the past three months. Making sure to use the right preposition, the right gender, the most appropriate word, the most appropriate expression... Every morning I am thankful for the opportunity to learn and practice all day and am definitely sad that today was my last day of classes. Now the effort will be all on me. I have to seek out places to volunteer, take time to study, write to friends, apply to schools. Figure out the details of HOW to get to the next level.

Eres lo que tu mas profundo deseo es, como es tu deseo es tu voluntad, como es tu voluntad, son tus actos, como son tus actos, sera tu destino.

A moment with the fam.

The other day I shared a moment with a member of my tica family. This woman and I are on very superficial terms that include: "Buenos dias, hasta luego, como amenecio, and buenas noches." I actually don't know her name or her relation to the family. I think she's my "dad's" sister and her name is Virginia but I wouldn't swear on that. Anyway, sidenote - I love her style. She always wears cute headbands, great sweaters and mustard-colored shirts with grandma frills.

So one night I was sitting at the dinner table by myself and there was a huge platano (big banana) on the table. "Virginia" picked it up to move it and it fell out of her hands and banged the table with the most ferocious noise. For some reason it struck me as hilarious and decided to tell her it was like her weapon. Virginia, in turn, thought that was great and we both died laughing. Like a real laugh. I'm laughing just thinking about it. So she started pretending like she was shooting her brother with it and told the whole family that I called it a weapon.

So, I experienced my first inside joke with the "great aunt" and my first real joke in Spanish that even I appreciated.

Finally an aguacero.

I am currently enjoying the beautiful sound of an aguacero. It's chilly but cozy because of my cup of coffee and the fact that I feel like "all's well in the world" right now. I find myself wanting to use Spanish phrases with English speakers and English phrases with Spanish speakers but I think that's the nature of learning a language.

One month is over and I feel like it has been a hard one. It's hard to get to know people for a month knowing that they will leave to go back to the U.S. or Europe after their stint at language school. It's hard to know what to focus on and how to prioritize my time with people. My "family" from last year is so far away, but it is in my heart to see them at least once a week. I went to Los Anonos last weekend and was able to connect with some people from last year. That made my heart happy. As did how well Biscuit remembered me.

My daily routine:
-Wake up around 5:45 a.m....lay in bed until 6:15.
-Get ready.
-Read my Bible.
-Eat breakfast (usually it's a plate of pineapple, a banana and a small amount of watermelon because my tica family knows I like pineapple more than watermelon).
-Take the bus to school.
-Get on the computers and catch up on emails.
-Class from 9-12.
-Eat lunch, usually with Christina, Kirk or Sandro.
-Class from 1-2.
-Advanced (yes, advanced!) dance class at 3 p.m. SALSA!
-Hang around school and then take the bus home...
-Dinner around 6 p.m., using the Spanish phrases for "No, I'm too full - thank you, though! No, no more soup, thank you! Mmmm, I don't know why I didn't eat the rice. I am full."
-Go out to get a drink with classmates OR watch TV with house siblings, listen to my new Bright Eyes mix CD and read Atlas Shrugged.

New things in C.R.

Disclaimer for all blogs in Costa Rica: the keyboards are usually slightly crazy so I may or may not be able to find apostrophes, depending on which one Im using.

I arrived in San Jose last Thursday. Ive experienced a broad range of emotions, as usual, when it comes to unknowns and change. This time around is totally different. I may as well be in a new country, except for the nice comfort of knowing a few people here. But I am definitely very alone this time...there is no Rebecca Dunning to process with, no Biscuit to distract me and no Internet in the house, much less a Vonage phone to connect with people. There ARE, however, new people to meet, Spanish to speak and new buses to ride...multiple ways to be misunderstood and homemade Tico food to eat.

The things Ive learned in my first week:
1. Homemade que que seco is FAR better than getting it from a restaurant.
2. Cold showers are miserable.
3. Pejibayes (pictured above) are a super food, cheap and I really really like them (sin mayo).
4. Movies at the San Pedro mall are 2 for 1 on Wednesdays.
5. If a taxi driver doesnt know where you live when you give him your address, dont let him take you.

Snap shot.

Food: Coffee, oatmeal, banana, plum, spinach salad with black beans and corn, Lara bar, PB+Ezekiel bread, curry couscous+tomatoes+basil+fried green tomatoes, zucchini muffin, wine, almonds.

Miles:
2

Good times:
1) Drinking coffee this morning on the porch
2) Reading books to Emery and Riley
3) Eating dinner with Christa, Bekah and Donald
4) Talking to May on the phone

Tomorrow:
* Work out
* Continue going through my clothes
* Celebrate Kristen's birthday at Satisfaction
* Spend QT with bekahchristarileyemeryjackrowan
* Be quiet

Me unedited.

So tonight I'm totally frustrated because I can't freaking go to sleep. I tried winding down at 9:30 ish in the hopes that I would be able to enjoy 7.5 blissful hours of sleep from the hours of 11-6:30. But no, I am still awake and it's 12:15 a.m. I've checked facebook a trillion times, written some emails, read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and, let's be honest, have been thinking (aka worrying) about things in my life.

I may have also had an iced cappuccino at 3 p.m. Not a good idea but it was sooo delicious.

So, what am I worried about? Here's the short list:

1) Worried about finances. On the bright side, I have awesome parents who've let me live with them and eat their food. On the down side, I'm going to Costa Rica in less than 3 weeks and don't have as much money as I'd hoped. The actual trip should be ok...it's the coming back that's not looking so great. I guess I shouldn't have eaten so many dinners from the Whole Foods hot bar.

2) I am really fed up with the theory of He's Just Not That Into You. Granted, the only reason I'm fed up is because the guy I speak of is apparently just not that into me. (See Chapter 1: He's Just Not That Into You if he's not calling you). Another reason this is soooo irritating is because I feel like it's always the guy I like who's not into me. The lawn and garden care worker at ROSES can be into me and ask for my number and ask, "How come you're single?" And the guy who I wish would could call me DOESN'T. Thanks, life.

3) I don't know if I have a third thing to bitch about right now. That's my short list. It may not seem like much but because I can't sleep these things tend to get blown out of proportion. I guess I could list my fears of Costa Rica:

Fear 1: That it will be awkward since my "host family" is actually just one woman who lives alone. Imagine us eating every meal together having small talk and not listening to precious Tico child Spanish that fills in awkward silences.

Fear 2: That I will gain another freshman 15 from Costa Rica because my host mom is a pastry chef.

Fear 3: That I will spend thousands of colones on taxis because I don't have a car and am too afraid to ride the bus at night.

Fear 4: That I will have no social life and won't have any need of taxis because I'll be alone every night reading.

Fear 5: That I won't learn enough Spanish and my life savings will be spent for no reason.

Hmm....that about covers it. Now I will go lay back in my bed in the hopes that this was therapeutic and I will go to sleep in no less than 10 minutes. And that blog spot will stop deleting my paragraphs every time I try to publish this.

H1N1 has not won.

I wanted to write about my experience with swine flu, a.k.a. H1N1 virus earlier this week when I was in the throws of the sickness. Funny how incredibly uninspired one can be while under the influence of a 101 degree fever. So now I will take the time to reflect as this is the second day without a fever and I'm feeling the need to be productive again.



It all started on Sunday morning when I woke up. My forehead was seeping heat and I had this weird, tight cough that was half-hearted and unproductive. I layed around all day thinking it would go away. It didn't. So I texted a co-worker to see if he could fill in for me but he was helping his girlfriend move (precious). So...I went to work.


After work I realized how much energy had been sapped out of me. I checked my messages and listened to one from my mom. "Just checking to see how you feel! And by the way, I think you have swine flu because your symptoms sound like the ones on the CDC Web site!"


Great, thanks Mom. I went home and proceeded to tell her that I don't have swine flu and I don't appreciate her making me a hypochondriac like herself. The next morning I felt even worse and agreed to go to the "minute clinic" like a poor person because I don't have health insurance. The woman at CVS was chipper and kind, but after hearing my symptoms basically refused to diagnose me. She said to go to Urgent Care.


At Urgent Care I was humbled even more when signs everywhere asked people to wear a mask if they had flu symptoms. I wore a mask. And after I saw the nurse and the doctor (who was super nice), he said, "Do you want the bad news or the good news?"


"Ummm, it doesn't matter." I'm sick, Mr.! Don't play games with me.


"No, you have to choose! That's how the game is played."


"Mm, ok, the bad news." Never choose that option first.


"Ok, well the bad news is you have the swine flu!" He seems so nonchalant about it. I sit there in my hoodie, hunched over like an invalid.


"You're kidding."

"Nope. But it's ok. We're not going to test you or give you any antivirals. Those are only given to people 65 years old and up. You should be fine in about seven days. The good news is that you won't get it this fall when it mutates and gets worse!"


That was the beginning of my seven day quarantine. What followed was a fever haze, moving from the couch downstairs to my bed to the couch upstairs, a lot of movies and being served vegetables and beans from my mom.


And now I'm finally feeling better. I seriously can't wait to be out in the world again.

Nugget of wisdom.

I'm reading a book recommended to me by Becca D. It's called Reaching Out by Henri J.M. Nouwen and I am absolutely loving it. Granted, I like books that have "steps" to achieving something and this book isn't like that but I'm getting a lot of nuggets out of it. My favorite part so far is in the section Reaching Out to Our Innermost Self. Rainer Maria Rilke is answering someone's question of, "should I be a poet?" His response is:

"You are looking outward and that above all you should not do now. Nobody can counsel and help you, nobody. There is only one single way. Go into yourself. Search for the reason that bids you to write; find out whether it is spreading out its roots in the deepest places of your heart, acknowledge to yourself whether you would have to die if it were denied you to write. This above all-ask yourself in the stilled hour of your night: must I write? Delve into yourself for a deep answer. And if this should be affirmative, if you may meet this earnest question with a strong and simple "I must," then build your life according to this necessity..."

How beautiful is that? I feel like I've always struggled with the question, "what should I do with my life?" I am totally NOT where I thought I'd be at 25.5 years but that's not a bad thing. I have never felt more in tune with myself and God as I have the past two years. I still have a long way to go but I know that having the answer within my reach is a reality. One thing I know is that Spanish is something I must do. I know it with a sense of strength and motivation and a little bit of fear mixed in. And I am so thankful that God is giving me the ability to make it happen, whatever "it' will look like in the future.

I'm sorry about your burned bagel.

I worked 7-12 at the coffee shop on Monday. That was my first early morning shift and it was pretty freakin crazy. Tons of people, so many bagels (toasted or not toasted, with butter? what kind of cream cheese?), tons of coffee to brew...it was all pretty awesome. Except for when I didn't know what I was doing. The manager realized I had not been trained on what to do with the pastry items. I mean, obviously it's common sense stuff, but there's always a "way." Like, do you cut the muffin vertically or horizontally? Why are there two toasters and which setting do you use? So I was learning as I went.


Well, this particular morning there was a woman who looked like she was on her way to the hospital. White scrubs (or pink), kind of tired looking, a kind yet apprehensive face. Anyway, she wanted a plain bagel with butter to go and of course I used the new toaster that didn't have a label for the "perfect toast."


So I popped it in and waited. And by wait, I mean I took a ton more orders and got distracted and kind of forgot about it until it dinged and I realized it kind of burned. And there was still a huge line of people waiting for their order to be taken. And that poor nurse was just sitting at a table waiting for her damn bagel and I didn't know if I should a) toast another one and make her late for work or b) just give her the slightly singed one. I mean, late to work or dark bagel? In that split second I decided to just give her the burned bagel and hope for the best. She didn't say anything about it so I hope she was still able to enjoy it. If she looks worried about her breakfast next time I see her I'll probably tell her that I adjusted the toaster setting to "perfect."

It's not school but there's a learning curve.

This is me in the laundry room at my parent's house. (Note: I'm living at my parent's house...) I like to think that the dress project is sort of like my life. My life as I know it slash sewing are new to me and I and hope the finished product is wearable. (The dress turned out great, thanks to my mom.)

Since I've been home I've experienced a broad spectrum of feelings. I figured I would be totally great. You know, glad to be back but also looking forward to returning to CR for language school. Why would I be emotional? But I have been...not in a dramatic sort of way (except for that one time, Dad - I'm sorry), but in a "I'm not comfortable" sort of way.

It's strange living with my parents. They're great but I'm 25. I'm used to having my own place and doing my own thing. Not answering to anyone. I am so thankful for the time and space that I have to save money but it's definitely not easy.

I have two jobs right now - being a nanny and working at a coffee shop. I think this in-between stage is what I was always afraid of when I imagined myself quitting my 8-5, benefits, feeling-important jobs. But it's not that bad. Granted, I wouldn't want to do it past the summer, but if the plan goes well, I won't have to. I'll be back in Costa Rica doing language school by September.

The uncomfortable things in this stage like not having my own place, not being active in a church and feeling grossed out from all of the dairy and meat I've allowed myself to consume are just stepping stones. When we're doing something new, it's not comfortable. We have to ask for help and be willing to learn. Humbly. And that is probably the hardest lesson I will have to learn this summer. It's ok to need help as long as we ask for it.

A little more comfort.

I don't know if you can see her very well because she's so tiny, but this is Doña Carmen. Her precious little frame is very fragile and she falls often, frequently voicing some of the aches and pains of old age (she's 97). On the right is her sister-in-law Doña Teresa, who takes care of her on a daily basis.

Doña Carmen is usually asleep in her single-size bed, with her radio turned up to a ridiculous volume because she's hard of hearing. When we visit her, there's always a surprise of some sort, whether it's singing us a song in English or entertaining us with her stories of when she was young . She is such a joy to visit.

On this particular day, we were delivering a gift from one of the team members to her - a new mattress and soft sheets. She was ecstatic about the color and the material and called herself "Reina Carmen" or "Queen Carmen." When we arrived at the house, it was a quite a time. We woke the poor soul up and got her out of bed; then we had to cut the mattress down to size for it to fit. When we changed the mattress out we found her machete which we made sure to put back under the mattress for protection. Just imagining Doña Carmen wielding a huge knife at an intruder is hilarious since she's about 4'6".

I hope that her new mattress will be a small source of comfort for her since that is where she spends her day. She is one of the people in Los Anonos who I will dearly miss.

Star pupil.

Meet Alixon...ten years old, only child, shares a house with her younger cousins, likes to knit. She is the epitome of a responsible girl who will achieve much in her life. I probably would have competed for her role of self-appointed class monitor at her age, but the comraderie of student/teacher works well.

When class starts she is super attentive and always carries Andres' (her cousin) notebook, pencil and paper in her bag, ready to distribute them when needed. If Andres and Gerald start arguing or whispering, she will typically move to sit between them, not forgetting to whisper a hushed "callase." (Translated as something between shut up and be quiet.)

Another way that she is a "star pupil," if you will, is that she helps the other students communicate with me. When they're talking to me rapidly in their prepubescent Spanish I look at Alixon and she translates in the Spanish that I understand. Slowly and in simple structures. It takes so much effort to understand how our idioms and slang affect communication with an outsider. I appreciate Alixon's attempts to make teaching easier and will definitely miss her as a student.

A young woman named Taylor will be coming in June to take over the role that Rebecca and I have and while this is a great blessing, there will be a lapse of a month. I trust that God will use our efforts for His good and that the relationship with Alixon and the other students will continue.