Sadie, my oldest daughter, gets a kick out of the fast-talking blurbs at the end of car and pharmaceutical commercials. In fact, I love it when those “fine prints” are excitedly auctioned off at the end of the commercial, just to hear her giggling.
Consider this post the fine print, if you will, of what is about to take over my blog. We have been in Costa Rica for just over two years, which means, of course, that it is just about time to blow this joint. I won’t go into all the reasons why you are just now hearing about our time here. But, I will spend the time remaining creating a kind of travelogue (travelblogue?) about some of the adventures we’ve had while in this part of the world.
Where’s the fine print, you ask? Allow me. Title is a little long, I suppose, but dead-on. Feel free to read the following with the voice of your favorite fine-print reader from the radio playing in your brain.
A Day/Week/Month in My Normal Life So You Don’t Get Confused & Start Thinking All We Do Is Go to the Beach
My brain calculates why it should be getting out of bed
then operates at minimal levels until properly fueled by coffee.
The mechanical whizzers that keep the abundance of lovely hedges surrounding everyone’s house, well, lovely
interrupt my read-alouds worse than any toddler ever could.
But, the hedges are lovely.
I remind my children to wash dishes, take out the trash, make up their beds
and then I remind myself of the same things
do the laundry
sweep the patio
oh, and feed the kids
And text Travis little love letters like
ice cream please.
with chocolate shell
can you make sangria.
And see? I’m grateful to have such indulgences easily available
for a price.
I think of friends and family
call someone if I can eek out a few moments
then wonder why they don’t call back.
I check my Facebook and find
far-away friends putting on happy faces
and insight into American culture.
sew something or
knit something or
watch some television.
I kill ants
and massive amounts of mosquitos.
I linger in bed as long as possible before going to market
where we find the best papayas, mangoes, bananas, strawberries,
crazy-large zucchinis and carrots
eggplants (that might have worms)
broccoli (with tiny, perfectly-matching green bugs)
all while speaking Spanish
and hoping they don’t think we’re tourists
because we need cheap food.
Because we have hungry kids
who have grown a LOT in our time here
and we are still a single-income family.
We worship with wonderful believers
and sometimes the sun is setting just at the end of the sermon and the breeze is whispering through the sanctuary
and sometimes there is no fresh air, and instead I feel sweat dripping down my back.
We hope for biblical sermons
and sometimes we get them.
We improvise with streaming sermons from our “home” churches in the States.
Wow, are we grateful for that ability
but there are sometimes tears
as the kids remember their friends sitting in those pews, listening to the same sermons.
And we have tears too.
Because we remember the ease of getting to church
the abundance of friends found there
being part of community
instead of feeling apart from community
because we are with the embassy
exempted from much that is local.
We travel around in traffic
that looks like testing for a video game
in our cars that can’t get fixed without weeks or months
of hounding down the really pleasant, friendly mechanic.
And the cars must be fixed and in condition
for a loss
so we can buy newer cars
that our next post will allow to be imported.
I meet with friends
at the pool
or the park
or on their sofa that looks the same as mine (girl, I love your throw pillows!)
over drinks or books
or both whenever possible.
I weigh the months in my mind
am I still making a home
or getting ready to tear it apart
purge all extra poundage
for the next move.
I inventory our health.
Eyes, teeth, general.
Is it better to do it here
or in the States
or gamble with the next place?
I rewrite the school schedule, allowing for
the time lost in the States
and wondering when is the next time I can get away from it all