It's New Year's Eve, and we're going out in Antigua tonight to celebrate! Rumor has it that this year the city government is trying to squash the all-out street party that New Year's Eve in Antigua has become over the years, so everyone cross your fingers that they're unsuccessful!
Hmm. I realized: the entire 2010 year has come and gone, and I never spent one minute of it in the U.S. So weird.
Enjoy tonight's celebrations, and see you in 2011! :)
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
YES, I Like Taylor Swift
Only a little late for Christmas (thanks, Guatemalan postal system), about a dozen holiday packages finally arrived at NPHG for us volunteers from family and friends around the world! As Katie and I were tearing open ours at the kitchen table, this is the conversation that took place:
Me: Finally!!! My mom sent me this box forever ago. I really hope it has food. AND I think she was going to send me the new Taylor Swift CD!
Katie: Oh, is that for your section of girls?
Me: (Slight pause)
Katie: Or for you, haha?
Ummmmmm....
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
The Coming Back
I love this quote. Always have (since the day Helenaki mou opened that card from her sister in that apartment in Athens, Greece). Always will. Now, more than ever, feels like a good time to remember it.
"Because in a sense, it is the coming back, the return, which gives meaning to the going forth. We don't really know where we've been until we come back to where we were. Only, where we were may not be as it was because of who we've become, which is, after all, why we left."
November/December Magazine!
Another issue is out!
And with only four weeks left, I think this could very possibly be the last one Leti and I and the kiddos ever put together. Weird.
Also, enjoy this pretty new format by Issuu. (Gracias to John at NPH Peru for the tip!) Click on the tiny white arrow on the right to flip through the magazine. Click on the actual pages to view full-size and zoom in.
And with only four weeks left, I think this could very possibly be the last one Leti and I and the kiddos ever put together. Weird.
Also, enjoy this pretty new format by Issuu. (Gracias to John at NPH Peru for the tip!) Click on the tiny white arrow on the right to flip through the magazine. Click on the actual pages to view full-size and zoom in.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Tía Duty: Check.
At 12 p.m. today, I officially ended my December-long tour of being a tía. We made it! (And we may or may not have celebrated with a spiked coffee at 12:15 p.m.)
It's kind of funny how I spent this entire year thinking that this intense, exhausting, crazy month of being a full-time tía was looming ahead. For 11 months, December seemed like it was the biggest deal. And now, it's over. It came and it went and it felt like almost nothing at all. How did that happen?
I was telling a friend the other day that sure, tía-ing has its horrible moments, but there are a lot of really great moments too. So at the end of the day, it all sort of balances out. I don't think I really look back on this month in specific good-or-bad moments -- it just sort of felt like one big blob of an experience.
It's kind of funny how I spent this entire year thinking that this intense, exhausting, crazy month of being a full-time tía was looming ahead. For 11 months, December seemed like it was the biggest deal. And now, it's over. It came and it went and it felt like almost nothing at all. How did that happen?
I was telling a friend the other day that sure, tía-ing has its horrible moments, but there are a lot of really great moments too. So at the end of the day, it all sort of balances out. I don't think I really look back on this month in specific good-or-bad moments -- it just sort of felt like one big blob of an experience.
An experience I would like to repeat any time soon? Probably not. But an experience I'm glad I did? Yeah. Yes. Definitely.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Lessons in Tía-hood: These Kids Are (Usually) Tough
All month long, I've been dealing with a group of preteen and teenage girls who spend a lot of their time talking back to me, giving me attitude, and going out of their way to do the opposite of what I ask them to do. So when I went into these past few days of the Christmas holiday sort of feeling like they were any other work days, I mistakenly assumed the kids would be acting that way too.
But that was dumb.
Friday was Christmas Eve, and about halfway through that night's special dinner, all our girls started to cry.
It started out with one, but when one preteen girl cries, they all begin to cry. So within about 20 minutes, we probably had about seven crying girls who didn't want to talk to us, didn't want to talk to their friends, and just didn't want to be there at all.
The truth is that my first thought was "Why are they all crying?! These girls don't cry. They talk back and bully each other and tell jokes and make fun of one another. Why the heck are they crying?"
And then my brain kicked in. Carrie, you dummy.
It's Christmas Eve. They're kids. This is supposed to be the most exciting day of the year for them -- wasn't it like that for us growing up? And they're here. They have families outside who they aren't allowed to see, or they don't have families at all, and all of their friends left them and went home to their own families this month -- and they're here.
The whole thing was sort of a smack in the face as to where I really was: sitting at a table with a bunch of kids who act so tough all year long, but on the biggest day of the year show you they aren't always so tough. They're just kids. And they're kids who, despite this gorgeous NPH campus and the incredible opportunities that come along with it, aren't blind to their reality. They understand exactly what life has handed them.
It was sort of sad to realize that on Christmas Eve in the middle of a fancy dinner. I won't deny that. But then it was sort of amazing to see that 30 minutes later, not one of them was crying anymore. They were all running around, releasing high-pitched little-girl screams, and picking on each other -- as usual.
They may not always be as tough as I think they are, but in the moments that would likely send you or I into a full-out week of woe-is-me depression, you gotta hand it to them. These kids are tough.
But that was dumb.
Friday was Christmas Eve, and about halfway through that night's special dinner, all our girls started to cry.
It started out with one, but when one preteen girl cries, they all begin to cry. So within about 20 minutes, we probably had about seven crying girls who didn't want to talk to us, didn't want to talk to their friends, and just didn't want to be there at all.
The truth is that my first thought was "Why are they all crying?! These girls don't cry. They talk back and bully each other and tell jokes and make fun of one another. Why the heck are they crying?"
And then my brain kicked in. Carrie, you dummy.
It's Christmas Eve. They're kids. This is supposed to be the most exciting day of the year for them -- wasn't it like that for us growing up? And they're here. They have families outside who they aren't allowed to see, or they don't have families at all, and all of their friends left them and went home to their own families this month -- and they're here.
The whole thing was sort of a smack in the face as to where I really was: sitting at a table with a bunch of kids who act so tough all year long, but on the biggest day of the year show you they aren't always so tough. They're just kids. And they're kids who, despite this gorgeous NPH campus and the incredible opportunities that come along with it, aren't blind to their reality. They understand exactly what life has handed them.
It was sort of sad to realize that on Christmas Eve in the middle of a fancy dinner. I won't deny that. But then it was sort of amazing to see that 30 minutes later, not one of them was crying anymore. They were all running around, releasing high-pitched little-girl screams, and picking on each other -- as usual.
They may not always be as tough as I think they are, but in the moments that would likely send you or I into a full-out week of woe-is-me depression, you gotta hand it to them. These kids are tough.
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