Of Beanstalks and Eavesdropping

Have you ever felt like you were a mere inch high, staring up at a redoubtable giant reminiscent of Jack and the beanstalk? (Fee, fie, foe, fum, etc.) Not at all like the friendly giant below.

Because that's how I feel at the moment: small, insignificant, about to be crushed by a sneering mound of bureaucratic red tape. There is so much to do. I congratulate the individuals who have completed it and not died from it yet.

On that note, I wasn't exactly dropping eaves, but I couldn't help but overhear someone else crying about having the same difficulties in the library a few days ago. Before you say that I'm a horrible person for not helping her, she had a support group with her. They were trying to figure out how she could fly home for Christmas if she sent off her birth certificate and old passport in order to get her new one. And her state ID was expired.

And I realized that I'm not so badly off. My plane ticket is paid for. I have my passport at home. I have an ID card that guarantees repatriation of remains or medical evacuation. I have my malaria pills, and all my vaccines are up to date. I have my forms turned in, including the one that says if I do illegal drugs I'll have to leave.

It doesn't matter how prepared I am. I'm still scared, and ultimately unprepared. It's the first time ever I've been out of the country, and I won't be able to connect with the people I love back home. The internet will be somewhat erratic. My posts on this blog will be sporadic at best, and random to boot (like this one). So you'll just have to understand that I'm overwhelmed, and scared, and busy.

How Caviar Relates to Plane Tickets

It's official.

I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Mainly excited, I suppose, but most assuredly terrified as well. Will I forget everything I ever knew about Spanish and forget how to say the simplest of things? Will my host family be able to understand me amid all the uh's and um's? Will my gaffes be ludicrously awful? (Let it be known that I hate feeling like an idiot, regardless of the fact that it happens a lot.)

Already homesick, to a point, which is a weird feeling. I mean, honestly, how can you miss your mom already when you kiss her good-bye every morning and good-night every night? How can you miss whispering about your day with your sister, while doing that very thing?

Wondering why I ever thought it would be a good idea to go to a country where kidnappings and other freaky things are spoken of casually as things to be very aware of. How dumb am I?! Will I be safe? Will I even have the street smarts to know if I'm not?

Wondering if my church will be recognizable when I return. It's not like I want it to stay the same way; I don't. But I wonder if Jonas and Katya and Adeleide (the cutest kids in the world, by the way) will have forgotten me by the time I get back. I wonder if some wonderful people will come, and I'll miss a couple months of knowing them.

These aren't horrible problems to have. They're first-world problems, just as much as a shortage of the best caviar is a first-world problem. That is to say, they're not life-threatening or dire.

But you'll notice that 1 Peter 5:7 says to cast all our cares on God. Not most. Not just the really important ones. All of them. Which includes plane tickets and bus trips and twisted tongues and homesickness and, yes, even potential embarrassment.

As silly as all that is.

The group

Let me introduce you to the group individually. This way you (I'm talking to my mom here) can envision people when I mention names.

First off: Dr. Craft. We call her Señora. She's been out of the country a lot, and will be with us our entire time in Ecuador.

In alphabetical order of first names, then:

To the left is Alexandria. She goes by Alex, and she's hilarious. She's the one that most readily admits to having breakdowns about Ecuador. I know I have them; I just don't tell anyone.

To the right is Åshild. She's an international student from Scandinavia, and she's been to a lot of different countries.




To the left is Daisy. Her family is from Ecuador, and she's been there before, so she's not nearly as stressed as I am.

To the right is Edith. I've had several classes with her this semester. She's freaking out over air fare and Machu Picchu.

 To the left is Liesel. She's staying the entire semester for an internship, so naturally she's excited. She also may get cheaper air fare than the rest of us, so naturally we are jealous.

To the right is Lizz. She's really sweet (not to say the rest of them aren't), and I'm looking forward to getting to know her better.


To the left is Natalie. She's a Junior. I'll let you know more about her when I learn it.

Lastly, to the right is Richard (on bowtie day). He alternatively goes by Ricky. He's the only guy in the group, and I pity him.





And then, of course, there's me. But you know me already, so I don't need to explain that.

That's the group. I'll put up a group picture when we take one.
 
¡Hasta la vista!