Welcome Back

Hello to anyone and everyone who still tunes in despite the infrequency of my blog posts! As I've mentioned, these will be much more frequent (every week) but try not to complain if you all get bored of hearing about my typical forty hour work week for the next seven months.

So I got to go back to the U.S. for three weeks in December and see many family members and friends which was much anticipated. It felt like falling right back into the familiarity and routine of small town living that I've known my whole life. Going to favorite coffee shops and stores, fielding questions (including "where's your tan?"), and even some cherished days of never leaving my parents' house. It did feel like something of a college break, and it felt odd to not have work for so long. So as much as I loved the free time, I was equally ready to come back here and get back to work.

One thing I never expected about coming back is that it felt similar to when I went back to the states. As soon as I picked up my bags from the customs I was ready to field (ignore) the various calls of "taxi, lady" from the crowd of cab drivers preying on travelers right at the doors to exit the airport. I was ready to casually converse with the one brave taxi driver who ignored me when I told him I already had a ride. And I was more than ready to hop into Sergio's taxi when he arrived (indicated by his familiar cab and call of "chele" out the window when he saw me).

I had gone to the states and come back several times so although I was proud of holding my own, it was also slightly routine. The real test of getting back into the swing of things was to come a few hours later when, after having been up since three a.m., I went with my boss to get the two new PDs from the airport. Keep in mind that I was only community certified and had just taken three weeks off from driving stick, so driving into downtown Managua was not my best work (super shout out to Dana for putting up with all the (literal) bumps along the way). To keep things brief, we survived the trip that night and Arthur and Bee got settled into the Manna house.

Since I was still the only PD here who could drive, I had to brave the trip again the following night and I'm happy to report that it went much smoother. The night following that I drove again and received my Managua certification. It wasn't exactly how I planned to do so, but being thrown into the situation helped me conquer my timidity I still felt with driving. I had planned on maybe eventually working up to Managua certification but felt that it wasn't necessary. Actually rising to the challenge is just yet another display of the versatility that living here has provided me and the new things that I will never cease to encounter.

After the eventful weekend of airport trips, the week was quieter in comparison. The only program we had running this week was the community clinic so it was one of my only chances to get out in the community. We also did have to flyer for our programs to just spread the word about starting dates, times, and costs of each program. This was another instance in which I felt surprisingly familiar. Seeing community members and showing the new volunteers around made me realize how much I had settled into Cedro Galan over the past five months.

Settling into other roles (mostly my position as house manager) was also smoother than expected. Three weeks without using my Spanish didn't seem to set me back too far. Catching up with house employees and taking care of some small repairs without a hitch further solidified my transition back.
And if my relaxing and familiar week couldn't have gotten better, I topped it off with a day trip to a beautiful hotel on the Pacific Coast, Gran Pacifca (website here) with Jackie, Susan, and Bee, my fellow PDs (the boys stayed home to watch football). We spent the afternoon sunbathing at the pool as well as walking along the beach. There was a dog who hung out at the resort and also walked along the beach with us, he seemed very accustomed to beach life. It felt great to get out of the house for the day but to still be relaxing. It was one of those days during which I felt so fortunate to be here (although that's just about every day for me).

I'm not sure what exactly it was about coming back: the five months of experience finally kicking in, having to step up to a challenge here like never before, or the resurgence of love I have for Nicaragua and the work I do here, but I didn't feel like a visitor anymore. I guess the way to sum up this recurring feeling is by saying that I never expected living in a foreign country to not feel foreign. That I might feel just as comfortable driving a stick shift van as I do an automatic Subaru Impreza. That I might actually miss only having two domestic beer choices. Or that I might be lucky enough to be welcomed back to a community where I've lived for a matter of months as lovingly as I was welcomed back to the town I've lived my whole life only a few weeks before.