Pumpkins and plethoras

So, fall is wonderful. I think I see many things with new eyes after Peru, and fall is one thing I am seeing with renewed appreciation. The beauty of the colors really is astounding. And there's something about that crispness in the air and the crunch of leaves beneath your feet, those clear blue skies... things I've always loved, and I'm enjoying again.

And I've enjoyed some of the things that come with fall. Like pumpkins. With several of my friends and classmates who live in my apartment complex, I have been to a pumpkin farm,

complete with corn maze

pig races

and big pumpkin-shooter (oh yes, you read right),

carved pumpkins (and roasted their seeds :),

and eaten some choice, fall-inspired goodies that could very likely put you into diabetic ketoacidosis (which I can tell you all about, thanks to nursing school)... which, considering I'm not a diabetic, is probably quite a feat.

But another thing about fall is how it makes you think and be thankful. And this next week offers a lot of opportunities for that. I'm thankful for long bike rides on beautiful days. I'm thankful for a week break for Thanksgiving. I'm thankful to get to see friends soon. I'm thankful to get to spend time with family. I'm thankful for that feeling of rest you get when you are in that place where you grew up and (thankfully) feel content. I'm thankful for enough food to eat and grandparents and cousins to eat it with. I'm thankful for siblings, even though I won't get to see them over Thanksgiving. I'm thankful I get to be among all that this year. I'm thankful I got to be in Peru for it last year. Yes, there is certainly a plethora of blessings for which to give thanks... and may we never forget to do so.

In defense of playgrounds

Several weeks ago after church I made my way to a park a few blocks down and set up shop at a picnic table under a pavilion. If I had to study for these tests, by golly I wanted to enjoy the beautiful weather.

However, I ended up studying the people about as much as my notes. As parks will do, this particular picnic table was positioned next to a playground. Now I have many a fond memory of playgrounds, be it at Pierce Street Elementary School, Ballard Park, Joyner School, or down the street from my grandparents' house in Vicksburg. But now, regrettably being several years past prime playground age (and size - have you tried the monkeybars recently?!), I looked at this phenomenon with new eyes and a new appreciation.

In the space of about two hours that Sunday, I saw several families come and go. I saw four ethnicities and heard three languages. Each family had a different family structure. I wondered at their stories. Granted, this playground was uniquely placed near several neighborhoods that allow for this kind of diversity and variety of clientele. I know not every playground has such a priveleged opportunity.

What what a cool one it is. Think about it. A playground. A simple, natural place for kids to do all sorts of things that are important. Play. Be active. Run around. Be creative. Encounter other kids in their area. Perhaps kids who are quite different from them. And what if... they start playing together? What if the playground becomes more important than the differences? And they learn this without thinking from an early age? What if they have a safe, pretty, encouraging place to get outside, be active, and have this encounter? Not to mention the effects on the parents and caretakers that bring them...

So I have decided - perhaps again - that I am a proponent of playgrounds. Be on the lookout for a more timely next post on the defense of pumpkins. Because, especially as I missed October last year, I am remembering that fall is AWESOME.

Little things

It's always fun...and strange...and exciting moving somewhere new, starting over. Involves anticipation, anxiety, adjustment. I've had my share of all of the above in the past month, but I'm enjoying things overall. Nashville is a cool city and, amidst the classes and studying and tests that have now begun and threaten a steady stream, I've managed to sneak out and enjoy bits and pieces in opportune moments. Like farmer's markets, the National Folk Festival, a Greek Festival, free park concerts, or just studying under a shade tree and blue skies. Because, as cool as it is to be studying something I actually enjoy, want to do, and will use, it's important to keep a balance. From now on, nursing will be a huge part of who I am. But it's not my identity. Just a complement to it, another piece of who I am in the Lord. So, balance is necessary, I think.

Ergo, finding fun things as the (prudent) opportunities arise. :)

As I continue to get accustomed to this new place, a new role, and these new people here, familiar faces and comforts have been a pleasure. I've had the chance - and will soon be able - to see some people I love, as they've come through on their way here or there. One of the perks of being a little closer than Peru, I guess! Maybe not for too long, but it's a blessing to share some time with them. Like a cool spray of water on a hot day, or the joy that is an ice cream cone, they leave my heart with a smile, refreshed to jump back into the task of living and investing in this present.

So here's to good friends, family, fall on its way, and falling asleep to thunderstorms.

The next step

Wow, sorry I’ve taken this long to write again. It’s been a crazy month between enjoying friends and family in Tupelo, visiting siblings in D.C. and Kentucky, and preparing to move to Nashville. And now, here I am, with a new apartment, a new roommate, a new city, and a new program. And that’s all quite exciting. But sometimes I still remember that tomorrow makes four weeks since I left Trujillo. I still think about Peru every day, and I miss it. I’ve got the flag on my wall, limónes in the fridge, barley coffee on the counter, and pictures in the frames.

So, borrowing from my dear friend Devon Emig (although she did this before she actually ended her year in Germany), I’ll give a quick list of things I miss about Peru. And, to add an upbeat, things I’m glad to return to.

PERU IS AWESOME BECAUSE:

- The people

-The fruit (especially mangos, avocados, and juice)

-Menús (fixed price, 2 course lunches for 4 soles/$1.50)

-Bodegas (neighborhood everything-stores) and panaderías (bakeries)

-Colectivos, combis, micros (the exciting and crowed public transportation)

-Walking everywhere

-Being with people who are different from me in many ways every day, having relationships with them, and that being normal

-Fresh foods and cheap produce

-Speaking Spanish

-Salsa and cumbia music

-A lack of obsession with time, phones, and work

-People’s generosity, accessibility, and availability

THINGS THAT ARE NICE ABOUT THE U.S:

-Friends and family (of course)

-Toilet paper in public restrooms

-Water fountains and tap water

-It being normal to be an active, athletic girl

-Salads at meals

-Seasons

-Green (Peru is a beautiful country, and many parts have a lot of green. Trujillo isn’t one of them.)

-Driving (even though I didn’t really miss it)

-Telephone calls

Impact

Wow, I don’t really know where to start. The Starbucks playing music in English in the Lima airport seems a world away from Trujillo, and, thanks to some inexplicable warp in time and space, I’ll supposedly be back in the U.S. tomorrow night. Can a year really have already passed? I remember arriving so clearly… yet I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime since then.

The last few weeks have been a blur and, due to sporadic internet access and general busyness, I haven’t done a good job of keeping you all up to date. So thanks for your patience… Medically-related, the mission is in the middle of short-term team season, which means there have been several groups come down to do medical campaigns. We had a group of dental students and, a couple of weeks later, a few doctors and a physical therapist doing campaigns in Wichanzao and the surrounding communities. Dr. Glover, a general surgeon from Jackson, MS, was in Trujillo for a week doing minor surgeries in a room in the Wichanzao church. He had actually stayed an extra week after spending a week with his church in Cajamarca. I got to go help translate with that group and, with about 6 doctors, 4 dentists, and lots of helpers, we attended about 1300 patients in a week. Pretty crazy, but a cool experience.

Sometimes I wonder how much short-term trips actually impact a community. Of course, they are much more effective when a long-term option providing follow-up care is available, and maybe a lot of the relief is only temporary for many of the patients. Yet, honestly, it’s at least some relief, and it’s more than many of the patients who travel a few hours from remote towns would be able to access otherwise. Maybe it’s enough to give them a little more strength, a little more hope. And maybe it just helps to have a professional actually listen, care, pray, and try his or her best to help.

I’ve been thankful I stayed and have been able to help with these campaigns and with the day-to-day rhythm of the clinic, which has been consistently busy lately. Aside from work, I enjoyed spending about 8 days living with my friend Karina and her family. They don’t live in Wichanzao itself, but they are in La Esperanza (the same general area of Trujillo), and it was great to get to live a little closer to the clinic, be in a family environment, and spend more time getting to know them. And then this past week has been rich with investing in people and making sure I do my best to “say my goodbyes well,” as someone counseled me. Good advice. Thankful for chances to spend time with people, and for the blessing of having so many people who’ve touched my heart.

The clinic’s despedida (goodbye party) was so much fun and, although hard to say goodbye, it made me appreciate again what a unique feel of family the group has. It’s difficult, sad, and definitely surreal saying goodbye, and I’m sure it won’t really hit until I’m back… and even then, little by little. (Be prepared for periodic reflections and realizations.) However, I don’t feel like I’ll never see these people again. They’re a part of me, and God has taught me so much through them. And, Lord-willing, I’ll get to see them again. As my mom wrote me before I came to Peru, “See all you can, make lots of memories, and leave part of yourself there.”

Check – more than I could have hoped. Praise the Lord.

Hospitals

It’s funny… I kind of expected that, after going to Cajamarca a few weeks ago, I’d have a pretty normal life here in Trujillo for a month, return to Cajamarca for the medical campaign the week of July 4^th, and then finish out my time in Trujillo. Funny how things change.

The last few weeks have certainly not been calm, and I’m thankful to have a chance now to just sit still in the apartment (actually, it’s not even my apartment – staying with another nurse from the mission since the other interns left). But I’ve spent the better part of the past three weeks with one of our patients in and out of the hospital. He’s an 82-year-old man named don José, and we’ve been trying to get him an endoscopic surgery to remove nasal and sinus polyps since December. So, after lots of appointments, delays, and endless lines and paperwork relating to his government insurance (which, in spite of everything, thankfully covers just about everything), he finally had that surgery about two weeks ago. After a night in the hospital, he went home…which is actually a room in the church, since he has extremely limited resources, no family, and a few months ago could no longer live with the family he’d been with.

Patients waiting to make an appointment with the government insurance.

Lots of waiting...

But a week after his surgery, he started having some pretty severe stomach issues (won’t go into detail) that left him so dehydrated and week that he couldn’t even stand up. So, to make a long story short, we took him to the hospital and he spent the next 8 days there to get rid of his stomach infection, recover fluids, and get his distressed kidneys working right again. Like I said, the insurance helps a ton, but in the government hospital it’s pretty imperative to have somebody with you because if the doctor prescribes a medicine or test, you have to go pay (or get it approved by the insurance) and then pick it up yourself. Perhaps one of the understaffed personnel could take care of it later, but the medicine would probably be delayed way too long, or the tests might go undone. So, rotating with a few ladies from the church and a couple of clinic staff, I was in the hospital with him for a good part of the last week and a half.

Pretty crazy there for awhile. But I learned a lot, saw a lot, thought a lot, and got to know (at least by recognition) several people who worked there. Of course there are all types, but the majority – at least on his floor – were very good to us. And when he began to recover appetite and strength enough to be more talkative, it was really cool to get to know don José better. This little man – who was born in Cajamarca, only went to school through 3^rd grade, has educated himself through enviable curiosity and reading, lived in Lima during his young adult years, was in the army for two years, ran the 100 and 400 m, likes soccer and basketball, was in love once better never got married, had everything stolen from him 40 years ago, moved to Trujillo, grew old without family, sells candies in the big Hermalinda market, and became a member of the Wichanzao church a month ago – has been through a lot. And, despite the nature of the circumstances, it was cool to get to hear some of it.

Don Jose in his hospital room.

Thankfully, don José went home Thursday. He seems so much better, and we’re praying that he keeps recovering his strength and can return to the rhythm he had before. But even so, the truth is that he’s getting older and living alone in the church probably isn’t a viable long-term solution. I was thankful to get to care for him over the last few weeks, but there’s always a little doubt of “How much is okay?” Because the truth is, I’m leaving in a month, and the economic and family situations of many of the church members don’t give them much leeway to dedicate the care he needs. But, I also think that I/we haven’t done more for him than we would for an elderly family member, and I don’t think he should be denied the same attention just for being poor and without a family. But the next decision will be how to best care for him in the future. I probably won’t be part of that decision, but I’m praying for wisdom for those that are and that God will open up the right options.

Paces and Peace

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the pace and rhythm of life. I think it’s always changing, but there are some things that always seem to crop back up. Goodbyes, for example. A year ago, I was saying goodbye to the places and people that defined my college experience. In these last few weeks, I’ve said goodbye to the other six interns I’ve worked with for the past ten months. I guess when you live, work, and learn together in such tight community (especially in a different country and culture), you get pretty close. The group was very special to me, and I’m thankful we’ll always have this bond. But things will look a lot different now that they’re gone. Besides missing their friendship and doing life together, I’m living in a different place, and I don’t have the schedule of two weekly intern studies or teaching SALI English classes anymore.

But, despite missing the companionship of my compatriots, I’m looking forward now to the different pace of this last phase of my time in Peru. The pace of the month leading up to their departure was frenzied, to say the least. Practically, people were finishing up SALI classes, packing their belongings, and saying difficult goodbyes to their friends and lives they’ve made here. Emotionally, all of that is combined with processing what

this past year has meant, how it has impacted them, the struggles, joys and lessons they have experienced, how God has worked in their lives. In a way, I went through part of that process with my friends – at least in a supportive, observant way. But I know my turn’s coming soon and, although I definitely don’t want to get ahead of myself, I think their goodbye process started my reflection wheels turning. Which, considering that I get to spread that process over the next couple of months, is a good thing, I think.

But I was pretty worn out by the time they all left, so I was thankful for another change of pace: I spent last week in the mountain city of Cajamarca, helping a couple there with some ideas for conversational English classes they’re starting at the church. I hope some of my presence was helpful, but I also just appreciated the chance to learn from their relaxed way of doing life and to enjoy being out of the city-pace of Trujillo. Seeing the room where the Spanish conquistadors held the Inca king Atahualpa hostage was a wonder. Going for a run in the dairy fields outside Cajamarca was refreshing. Visiting a few of the mountain churches gave me a breath of fresh air, literally and figuratively as I saw the distinctive, difficult, and beautiful reality of the culture and congregations in towns like Huacraruco, Manzana Mayo, and Quinoapata.

Whether it’s guiding a horse in a circle for four hours making a brick mixture, selling vegetables and fresh cheese in the market, or working in the clinic in Wichanzao, I guess we all have our own pace. Maybe God gives part of it to us, depending on our personality. Maybe sometimes it changes, depending on our circumstances. Maybe we should always be aware of it, running hard enough to make the most of every opportunity but slowing down enough to relish relationships, take in the scenery, and take care of ourselves. I’m pretty sure I’ll be trying to find that balance my whole life. But I’m thankful for the chance to try, and for people who inspire me to run hard and those that show me how to slow down. I think God gives us peace somewhere in the middle, when we run for Him but aren’t striving to be enough on our own…when we’re close to the pace He’s made us for.