Waking up on the race has been different in every country. Philippines and China it was "normal" someone's wrist watch going off. South Africa it was the sounds of people getting out of their squeaky metal bunk beds and twenty people moving around in an old house. Mozambique for the first week or so it was the sound of little Juiette squealing with delight, then it was Rock's wrist watch again reminding us that we needed to be up early to take down our tent in the kitchen because they needed to set up for breakfast. in Swaziland it was the knowledge that if you didn't get up fast enough what you wanted to have for breakfast might not be there. Romania we got to sleep in, thank you snow storm. Bulgaria our contacts rarely scheduled anything in the morning, this girl made like Jack Johnson and woke up slow. Serbia in regards to waking up was a lot like Bulgaria. Here in Guatemala it's the jarring sound of fire works. These means of waking up and waking up to new surroundings every month has become normal.
What is normal? If you had asked me what normal was nine months ago my definition would have been vastly different from the one I would give you today. It's now normal for me to be surrounded by people I don't understand, literally. It's normal for me to ask someone when I arrive at their house, "Can I drink the water? Can I flush the toilet paper in the toilet?" These are rational, completely logical, very normal questions for me to ask. It's normal for me not to know what I'm doing next week, next month or the month after, or to even know where I'm going. To be honest with you the day isn't over so I don't even know where I'll go yet today. You never know when there needs to be a Coke-A-Cola run or a need for more pan (bread) ahhh me gusta mucha pan. In all honesty though this is the thought that I woke up to today, after the firework, "If this is normal, than has life back home become forgien? How long will it take me to re-acclimate to my now forgein life back in the states? Don't worry I didn't dwell too long on it, I had to down two de-worming pills with breakfast so that kind of drove the thought from mind.
Here it is though, returning. The truth is, I will return back to the states in ten weeks (roughly) and I have already started praying about that transition and what I hope it to look like. I hope and pray that the changes that God has made in me (not the asking about water and toilet paper) will remain and that I will continue to walk in them. I hope that I'm able to integrate these new changes with grace and strength. I pray against bitterness, frustration and fear. Please join me in this prayer. That and for no more parasites or malaria for any of my squad for the rest of….ever. For now, I'm going to go join Bea in her tent to watch some Twilight Zone. Yeah, that's normal….
