The dreaded last day of vacation

Saturday finally came, marking the end of our week in Belize. We were leaving Sunday morning, and Valerie and I were both a little mournful on Saturday, wanting to cherish our last swims, fruity drinks, bike rides, and conversations with new friends. That morning was the most gorgeous sunrise yet.

Midmorning, we cycled into town, in desperate search of some sort of anti-itch remedy for the sandfly bites that were driving me insane. The cream we found was moderately successful, but the smoothies and coffee we enjoyed while out was a delight. 

Our last dinner at the hotel restaurant was delightfully windy. We allowed ourselves to be a little bit selfish and take the best table in the house, a table for two that allowed both to face the sea with an uninterrupted view. A trifle romantic than we needed, but a welcome boon on our last evening in Belize! 

The next morning, we savored the sunrise, the last breakfast before we returned to a world of eating peanut butter toast and coffee while putting on makeup before work, and some short but sweet farewells with new friends. 

All too soon, we were back on our international flights. But we can't complain (too much!)! It was a delightful trip. Valerie is a wonderful traveling companion. We have the same travel ethos and the same sense of humor. Belize, like France, Switzerland, and Spain, might never be the same! 

Jungle Ride

Our last planned adventure in Belize was a jungle horseback ride. Valerie had never ridden a horse before but she was willing to humor my burning desire to be horseback once again! After another gorgeous morning, with coffee and sunrise swim, we headed to a nearby stable.

This will remain one of my favorite places to drink a morning cuppa!

Val enjoying her first coffee of the day

We were each assigned a horse and then in the company of three guides, off we went. We rode through several orange groves and then into the jungle. Several of the guides have seen jaguars, but we were not so lucky (although perhaps we were lucky not to see them!) Partway through the ride, we dismounted and had the option of a cooling dip in the Sittee River. I was the only one crazy enough to go in the river completely, and it was worth the slightly damp clothes on the return ride. 

Sittee River

Silver and I

Upon our return, Michelle, the owner of the stable, gave Valerie and I some fresh starfruit! I have never seen this fruit on the tree before.

Following Michelle's advice, we decided the best way to combat saddlesore-ness was to spend the remainder of our day in the water :) 

The only challenge was deciding on which way we wanted to enjoy the water. The day, as you can see, was gorgeous.

Zip Line

On Thursday, the sunrise was gorgeous and the water stilled, giving us a break from the windy days we had been having.

We celebrated with a morning swim off the dock, partly to avoid a really thick black muck that had unfortunately washed up on the beach. The rain the night before had apparently washed it into the sea from the river system. Still, swimming off the dock allowed us to avoid it. And what a way to wake up! After breakfast, we hopped into the truck and drove to Bocawina National Park.

Here we had our long awaited zip line adventure! We had nine separate zip lines that traversed the jungle. It was a delightful experience!

Our guide, Victor

Step off the platform! 

I loved this adventure. There is something amazing about flying through the air. Each zip line ended too quickly for my tastes, and I would have gladly done it a second time!

Belize is taking care to try to promote tourism but simultaneously preserving the environment. Each excursion we took had an element of education, thanks to our knowledgable guides. We learned that almost half of Belize is national park land, and every organization we encountered is taking care to preserve the natural beauty of their land. It is wonderful!

Maya Ruins and Cave tubing!

Our first day of adventures began with a gorgeous sunrise.

After an early breakfast and two cups of coffee, we (and several other guests) piled into a van and drove two hours to Xunantunich, a Mayan archeological site with stunning views of Belize and Guatemala.

We also got our exercise! Howler monkeys called in the jungle, but unfortunately, they wanted to be heard and not seen. Valerie and I had been exercising each day, including a fitness challenge to build up to doing 100 squats in a day. After all of these steps, we decided that we had earned a day without squats!

After a delightful lunch at a local cafe, we began the second part of our day. We arrived at St. Herman's and suited up for a short jungle walk, and then descended into a cave system for some river tubing. Although we had headlamps, we all turned them off and tubed in the dark for a little while! 

It was an amazing experience. The water was cold and in some places, very deep. The pitch black can be a little scary, but we survived :)

Belize

May and June were difficult months, simply for the reason that I didn't know what I should do next. I love teaching adults English as a Second Language, but it is difficult to full-time work in that field in the USA. I kept agonizing over what I should do. A wise friend, David, kept reminding me that I can't plan everything and sometimes I just need to let go. I also felt that I just needed to go! Finally, my dear friend Valerie said that she could take a week of vacation at the end of July. In a quick turn of events, my mom found a small seafront inn in Belize that was doing a summer special. Valerie and I both had enough frequent flyer miles for free tickets to Belize, so we booked the hotel and started counting days.

On the Friday of our departure, I drove to Valerie's, parked my car, and then we drove together to DC. We found a cheap place to park near the airport, and arrived right as the shuttle to the airport was departing. Not good. We could see it driving away, despite the fact that the driver knew we needed it! When he came back, he insisted in his strong West African accent that the shuttle had to leave right on time. Valerie teased me about my increasing anxiety as each minute passed. Half an hour later, we hopped into the shuttle, dropped my bag off at the baggage drop, and headed through security. A few funny conversations later, we were at our gate! We have some interesting memories from the same terminal from our last trip together (to Arizona), and we were in high spirits by the time we reached our gate.

Despite the full waiting area, I wanted to get a picture of me in my happy place...passport in hand, and an airplane waiting to be boarded. I intended for it to be a somewhat discrete snapping of the cell phone camera, but that was not to be. Valerie and I were both cracking up with laughter, and the end result was that we had the attention of the entire lounge, most of whom probably assumed that I excited because I was getting on an airplane for the very first time. Oh, how little do they know...

Before too much longer, we were able to board our first flight, which would take us to Houston.  We continued to bring smiles (and occasional smirks) to the people around us, particularly the fellow in front of us, who at one point discretely paused his music on his phone but left his earbuds in his ears so he could eavesdrop shamelessly on our banter. 

Houston airport closes overnight, and our flight was one of the last ones to arrive. We could stay in the airport, and I had very excitedly told Valerie that I had two passes to the United Club. Valerie, utilizing her super-sleuthing skills, found out soon after we booked our tickets that the United Club was not open overnight but opened at 5 a.m. We arrived in Houston at about 12:30 a.m., and quickly located a fairly empty gate with access to a wall outlet for the all important charging of electronic devices. The next four hours are a blur of nodding off in the most uncomfortable positions as I tried to wrap myself around the metal arms of the seat, waking because of obnoxious country music trumpeting through the loudspeakers at 2 a.m., wrapping my scarf around me to try to find an extra degree of warmth, and then finally, joyfully, realizing it was 4:45 a.m. We gathered our belongings and went to the United Club. After submitting our passes, it was like the world instantly brightened! We took the escalator up to the second floor and saw a delightful buffet with warm oatmeal, plenty of hot beverages, and soft chairs. 

Warm and happy, we enjoyed our breakfast before boarding Plane #2, which took us to Belize City. Upon disembarking, we both sighed in relief at the sticky wave of heat that greeted us. We walked into the airport, and proceeded to shuffle through the queue for immigration. Then, it was a quick stop at baggage claim before walking to customs, and then following the signs to our next domestic flight to Dangriga. 

We found our tiny little airline and dutifully handed over our printed confirmation of tickets (again, Valerie's good planning, not mine!) and our passports, and in turn received handwritten tickets. After a short wait in a somewhat chaotic lounge, where we could purchase plantain chips, Cheetos, and water, we were escorted onto the tarmac to board our tiny little plane to Dangriga. I love tiny little planes. The pilot helped us settle in and then said, "We just have to make a quick stop at the other Belize City airport to pick up another passenger if that's alright?"  I wasn't sure if he actually needed permission, but I smiled and said that was fine! A quick hop and a jump, and we were at the next airport. Then, up and away we went and Valerie and I forgot to speak as we just looked out at the amazing blue beneath us.

I could look at this water for days and not tire of the view. 

Entirely too soon, we were flying over a little bit of land and then we arrived at Dangriga. 

We disembarked and Valerie and I both paused at the tiny little metal cart, where our suitcases and one other passenger's suitcases were being unloaded from the plane. Unsure if we were to simply collect our bags there, we started to ask the man, who looked a little offended and told us, "No! You get your bags from baggage claim!" The pilot rushed over to us, clarifying, "This is Dangriga! Are you getting off at Dangriga?" After assuring him that yes, we were where we were supposed to be, he walked us over to "Baggage Claim"....which was a metal sign a total of about 25 feet from the plane. There we could collect our bags from the little metal cart. And then our pilot waved a tall, slender man over and said, "Stephen, these are your guests for Beaches and Dreams!" 

Stephen gave us a wide grin, shook our hands, and then collected our bags from us to put in the vehicle. He warned us that we would have jungle air conditioning...windows down! And so began our vacation, as we drove over a slightly bumpy paved road and headed a little further south to Hopkins, Belize. 

Peach Pie

Yesterday was an important day! Following in the traditions of the women before me, on both sides of my family, I made my first fruit pie. I've enjoyed many a pie before, but yesterday, with Momma's supervision, I made one myself!

Dad returned this morning from Moz, and we saved the first piece for him! I might not win a pie competition like my grandmother, but it tasted pretty good! :)

Nonverbal communication

Monday was President's Day, and a holiday for my class. Tuesday's class was cancelled because of winter weather. Somehow, after only two days of class, the week still feels exhausting. 

I went to get my students this morning, taking a snap of Moby and I as I waited for the massive vehicle to warm up at least a little bit. Yep, you can see four rows of seats, two car-seats, and just out of the picture is the most unhelpful ice-scraper ever made. The ice scraper might be more helpful if I 

could fully reach the windscreen when standing on the ground.

Most of the caseworkers don't like to drive Moby, so I typically get the pleasure of driving him. At first, I was afraid, I was petrified (...Did you start singing too???) but I've gotten used to it. It makes me chuckle when I turn the ignition only to have our solitary cassette tape start blaring Nepali music.

Most of our students/clients live in a housing complex not far from my teaching site. We've established a meeting point at an old gas station. Almost every morning, I pull up to the gas station and see two of my most faithful Bhutanese students, waiting stoically in the cold, occasionally smoking a cigarette. 

For the entire first month, their faces were always serious and almost dispassionate. They rarely came to class in December. Their caseworker called them finally, asking if they would come to class in January. The caseworker (who is from the same cultural background) told me, "They said they will come. But you have to remember, they might not come. Culturally, they will always say yes, but that doesn't really mean yes." 

That first day in January, I drove to the gas station, wondering if I would have any students at all. It always makes me smile to see my students standing in a line outside the gas station, patiently waiting for me in front of the "No Loitering" sign. The men dress in Western clothes, although sometimes they are wearing the traditional cloth hat called a topi. The older women are always awash in colors, wearing traditional cloth wrapped around their thin bodies in blues, reds, and yellows.  

Since that day in January, there have always been at least two men waiting for me at that stop. Sometime in January, despite the arctic temperatures, something thawed in our relationship. Now, Naina Singh and Sher Man return my smile and wave as they finish their smoking and climb into the van. As new students arrive, these two men shepherd them into the van, showing them how to buckle seat belts or open the door. They proudly say, "Good morning, teacher!" 

I should add that my conversations in the van are hilarious. By the end of my trip to collect students, there are normally at least two languages being spoken, and sometimes as many as five or six. Most of our students live in proximity to others who share their language. If absent students are part of the Nepali community, I'll normally ask Sher Man or Naina Singh if they know if they are coming. The response is a flurry of Nepali directed at me, which is completely incomprehensible to me, and then a much more helpful "Go" or a hand gesture to wait longer. 

There are several new students who live in a housing complex adjacent to the apartment block. One woman, Dil Maya (which is an incredibly common Nepali name judging by how many Dil Mayas are in our program), has been running late most days. As a result, I've begin to drive by her building on my return trip, hoping to hurry our departure a little bit. She wasn't at the gas station today, so I asked my regulars if she was coming. I got shrugs in response and gestures to drive past her house. I acquiesced and slowed down as I drove by her house. A man was standing on the stoop, smoking a cigarette, watching us with mild interest. Sher Man caught his eye, and through entirely non-verbal communication, managed to communicate that we were wondering if Dil Maya would join us today. The man went into the house, came back out, responded with a hand wave of his own, and Sher Man informed me, "She not come today." There was no need for a cell phone! 

I had to share this last picture. I keep reminding myself that I need to slow down. I have misread a number of things because I'm reading really quickly. I was substituting for another English teacher a few weeks ago. Her class is held in a local Baptist church. As I got on the elevator, I glanced at this sign:

At first glance, I thought it said, "Please do not pray on the elevator!" That seemed a trifle odd, particularly in a church! 

Recap :)

August through January has been a blur of milestones, because of travel and life changes. I will attempt to recap, but I'm already looking forward to another good year of more changes!

August involved a flurry of a new roommate in the apartment (my mother), new ESL classes, a new baby in the family (my cousin had a sweet little girl) and beginning to work on developing a proposal for my thesis project (a requirement for graduation). I blissfully reduced my employers to one!

September proved more memorable.  I clarified my thesis topic, deciding that I wanted to create an English program for teenagers that would teach peace and conflict resolution through English lessons. Another cousin (Havenbird!) got married in a beautiful ceremony on the family farm and a day later, I left for the Middle East to begin work on my thesis in an appropriate context.

October was spent in a little town called Beit Sahour, which is adjacent to Bethlehem, in the West Bank. I helped to run a coffeeshop, learned how to make a killer Caramel Latte, baked sweets for the coffeeshop and hungry friends, taught a lovely group of guys to play Dutch Blitz, enjoyed falafel for dinner on a regular basis, went to weddings, and danced and laughed until the days blurred together. The intersection of identity and language became a little clearer and a lot more complex through conversations with Palestinian youth. 

In the midst of it all, I interviewed (Skype) for jobs in China, Taiwan, Turkey, and Saudi Arabia, and viewed countless other job offers. Completion of my project meant that graduation would become a reality in December, and my plans included a job in a nice warm climate. None of the jobs seemed quite right. The job in Taiwan was at a language institute and would include teaching a lot of young learners. The job in China was with a new program and they wanted me to assume the head teacher position, which would include massive amounts of program planning as well as teaching. The job in Turkey was unpredictable hours. The job in Saudi came with a number of perks meant to counteract the restrictions of the culture, but I was still unsure. 

In the quiet of a Bethlehem afternoon, I read a staff email from my teaching job in the USA, announcing a new position that would opened in November. This position offered more hours and would involve teaching an intensive English class for newly arrived refugees. After an email conversation that lasted about a week, I surprised myself and submitted my updated resume and letter of interest to my supervisor. 

Around the same time, my 3 1/2 year old niece announced during a 1 a.m. Skype call (1 a.m. for me!) that "Mommy and I are getting a new baby!" I squealed at a volume that rivaled the squeal of my apartment-mate in Beit Sahour when she found out earlier that evening that we had a mouse. (The mouse became known as LeRoy and he was relocated successfully to the garden after several weeks.) Th news that there would be another baby in the family filled me with excitement and added to my growing sense that maybe I shouldn't take a job overseas just yet. 

I left Palestine at the beginning of November. I'm not sure if I left part of my heart there or if I brought part of Palestine home in my heart, but regardless, the six weeks I spent there had an incredible impact on me. I flew via Frankfurt, Germany, and arrived later the same day in Rome. A friend had spent a month in Italy studying Italian and we had planned to spend the last few days of her time in Rome together. I arrived around midnight at a gorgeous apartment, a few hundred feet from the Spanish Steps. 

The next few days were spent revisiting Rome. I enjoyed a coffee at a coffeeshop founded in 1760 with a long history of famous patrons. I wandered with camera in hand to some of my favorite sites. Meredith and I window shopped and savored gelato and delicious meals at some of her favorite spots.  We talked as I struggled to begin to make sense of my last two months, trying to understand freedom, injustice, reconciliation, and peace. Our trip culminated in a fantastic morning vespa tour of the "hidden" history of Rome. Valerio and Ipazzio were excellent tour guides. 

On November 9th, I left Rome to fly back to D.C., flying again through Frankfurt. I sat an airport coffee bar, struck by the irony that as I left one place divided by a massive wall, I was watching news stories on the 25th anniversary of the collapse of another wall. Berlin's wall may be history, but the wall cutting through Palestine still stands. 

I arrived in the USA later that day, a Sunday, and my new position officially started on Monday. I burrowed under my blankets to keep warm as I tried to plan a multi-level ESL class for refugees who had been in the USA less than a month and simultaneously finish my project. Cold, gray November days blurred together as my eyes became strained from endless hours of looking at a computer screen and reading about teaching strategies.

December 8th was the first day of my new class. December 13th was the deadline for my capstone project and the deadline for proposal submissions for an ESL conference. December 21st was the due date for my comprehensive exam. In any spare minute, I searched for possible apartments to rent (My parents are now both back in the USA and living in their apartment, which I had been renting in their absence.) December was a month were every minute counted and if I wasn't editing my thesis or writing a lesson plan, I was thinking about what I still needed to do. 

Miraculously, I survived. My supervisor accepted my thesis, my comprehensive exam completed on time, my classes stopped being quite as overwhelming to plan, and the committee for the ESL conference accepted my proposal without revisions.

My diploma arrived in the mail in January. It's official! I will walk in our graduation ceremony in May but it was celebration enough to finally see that piece of paper announcing that I am FINISHED! And now, one week remains in January! Although it still seems surreal that I don't have to do homework, I already find myself thinking about other ways to continue academically. My advisor and her husband were traveling in January and offered me the chance to house-sit for them, since I have yet to find an apartment that fits my budget. As I look around, their tables are decorated with my Arabic flashcards, International Phonetic Alphabet flashcards, printouts relating to teaching pronunciation and developing literacy, and a stack of library books. 

As I think about what I've just written, I'm amazed. I am blessed. In 2014, I visited Tanzania, Brazil, Palestine, and Italy. I turned 30. I graduated with a M.Ed TESOL. I started a new job. I learned more about my strengths and grew in some of my weak areas. I stopped caring about some things and became more passionate about others. I've been encouraged and supported by friends and family around the globe (literally!). It has been an incredible year. 2015 holds a lot of promise as well!   

My Second Surprise Party :)

My students felt badly that they all hadn't been prepared to celebrate my birthday last week.  When I returned on Thursday to our class, they were ready to party once more!  I don't understand why everyone doesn't want my job! :)