Well, I´m just gonna get right down to business, 1. because I´m not really in a blogging mood, and 2. This keyboard sucks more than a vortex. Literally, thank you to all the OTHER spacebars in the world that function properly. A holiday to celebrate you to be shortly announced.
But what to say more than jdfkljdkfjakljdfkdlfjdakljf(/%$&/?????????????? Yeah, I think that´s the language I feel fluent in right now. The "what the frick?" one. I will describe being a trainer like this: it means being tired. And fluent. But mostly tired and fluent. Well, forcibly fluent. I don´t know what it is that makes the human brain go into overdrive when it knows it has no guardrails, but as soon as all my Spanish safeguards left (Hermanas Lund and Amaya), my brain was like, "well, crap... let´s understand some Spanish, shall we?" So, we have been, better and better. Not to say I understand every single thing, but man, is it nice to feel fluent. But not so nice to feel tired. The extra effort required of my brain is making the rest of my body more and more useless. They may have to wheel me off the plane for my homecoming on a gurney. Serving with might, mind, heart and strength? Add a few additional organs in there and we may be onto something here.
But I am starting to actually recognize the change that´s coming over me. Especially now that I´m training Hermana Bryant. Because trainers are supposed to be good. Examples. Good examples. And I´m good. But I´m no saint. So I struggle between wanting to show her the way perfectly and not caring about obeying EVERY SINGLE RULE. She loves the idea of obedience. I love the idea of my sanity. So it´s interesting. But what´s really interesting is when I realized this morning that she´s exactly how I used to be when I first got out on the mission. I had certain expectations about what would happen and what I would be able to do. And then when things aren´t always exactly the way you planned them, you get frustrated or elated, depending on the situation. So, in spite of the fact that I´m not always the perfect example, at least I have one to clarify what I´m trying to explain.
So once upon a time, Hermana Bryant and I made our first lunch together. She was stirring the macaroni noodles when suddenly I hear her say, "uh, Hermana, there´s bugs in here." I thought she meant a couple little ants, so I went over, and low and behold, there were two cockroaches floating to the top of the water. She was ever so slightly freaking out, and I thought,"well, that´s gross. But fixable." So, I spooned them out and told her the water would boil it out. And she responded, "is that gonna be your solution for everything? Just boil it?" I may have laughed hysterically. Because a former version of me was right there with Hermana Bryant, properly disgusted. But the present version of me just couldn´t work up the energy to care. Yes, I eat cockroach mac´ and cheese. Sure, I´ve lost a little of my pride. I´m gonna be real cute when I get back to the states. But it only got better that night when we had no water and she asked how we would be showering. I filled her in on the magic of bucket showers, and she was like, "wait, we shower out of the poop bucket?" To which I said, "it´s not a poop bucket, we just use it to flush. And occasionally mop the floors." She may or may not have purchased her own personal bath bucket after that. And I may have had another burst of laughter. Is this what real parenting is like? Getting a real kick out of all the things your kids do? Cuz our first week has been a real scream. It´s actually pretty fun watching someone relive the magic I´ve lost a little bit. Every wolf whistle, every bucket shower, every Dominican meal is new to her, so it had sort of become new to me. And it reminds me that at one point, I thought life here was weird and hard. And look how I´ve grown. The hard part is convincing her that she´ll get there someday too. But that´s the thing about experience- sometimes you need your own to grow and learn the truth of something for yourself.
Anyway, hence the obtaining the best of both worlds, in a Hannah Montana fashion (you´re welcome, Delaney). I now have what was formerly two areas as one area, and a four person house is now for two. And I have the best of the Dominican and America, as in, I can understand the culture and language here and because I have a fresh American comp., I can still enjoy my own. Is this the spot where I should use the word(s) win-win? Cuz I think I will.
Well, that´s about all the effort I can exert for one blog entry. But I must leave you with this critical wisdom: First, if you thought that the word Smurf is funny in English, you should hear it in Spanish. For our night of friendship that we hold at the church Friday nights, we played a game involving verbs. You try to guess the verb by asking where, how, etc. you can do it, but you replace the verb with the word Smurf. So everyone was asking (in Spanish, obviously), "can you Esmurf in the morning?" and things like that. Esmurf. My favorite word and wink-wink joke with Hermana Bryant.
Oh, and if any of you come to the D.R. and are in desperate need of nail polish, look no further than your local Pica Pollo, or translated, fried chicken restaurant. The chicken will give your stomach much fat and sadness, but the shades of polish are to die for. I´m going to indulge in decorating later tonight. So you see, I haven´t completely lost my ability to be cleanly. Or at least, somewhat attractive. And with this information to mull over, I bid you adieu.
Cuando en Cuando,
Hermana Sweeners
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