Tomorrow is Here

In less than 24 hours, I will be walking away from my home with whatever I can carry.

It's sort of like rewind. All the things I did to create my life here are being undone - buying things for my house, getting settled in, meeting people, delving into work. And the emotions are just as reversed. All that excitement I first had has turned into dread of leaving. "Nice to meet you" is now "Adios." "I give classes at the school" is now "I gave some classes at the school." And "I live in Subirana" is now "I used to live in Subirana." 

There's not much to say. In fact, it would be easier to say nothing. Attempting to speak a foreign language while in a highly emotional state is no simple task. Heck, people have a hard enough time saying anything intelligible even in their native tongue.

It's strange how things change, though. While I've learned the art of being patient in this culture, I've come to learn a somewhat different, though similar lesson from this experience: Seize the day. Why wait to do things when there's time today? In other words, How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog - it's here a little while, then it's gone (James 4, NLT). Most of what I'm leaving behind in Subirana is plans - plans for the future, plans to teach classes, plans for the cooperative. It makes me think what I could have done if I lived each day not waiting for tomorrow. Because, the reality is: Tomorrow is here. Earlier than any of us expected it, and definitely not how any of us planned it, but it came anyway.

So if I were to do Peace Corps again, or give advice to any future Peace Corps Volunteer, I would say this:

Take advantage of every moment you have. 

Enjoy the time you spend with people, be involved with what you're doing now, be intentional with people, plan for the future, live in the present.

Whiskey's Last Corner

The logistics and costs of getting Whiskey to America in a short amount of time are nearly insurmountable. I also came to a realization about Whiskey's future home. This came when I took him to the finca to pick coffee with me - Whiskey is a finca dog. His home is here in Subirana where he can chase cows, play with other dogs, run freely in the dirt roads, and eat out of other people's garbage piles. So after much wrestling, this is where he belongs.

He's been a good friend and unwavering companion and I hope that when the people see him around town, they will remember me. I'm leaving him in good hands with the agri-business teacher and town veterinarian. They promise to send me photos as Whiskey grows up, which I plan to share with all of you. It's been emotional, and probably will continue to be, but putting Whiskey on a leash in a fenced backyard with no farm animals on the paved streets seems cruel. May the wild campesino spirit live on in him and may he continue to chase every living animal to his heart's content.

This is all part of making plans for the future. Sometimes you plan on having a dog for 2 years, then you have to leave him behind. It's a little overwhelming when your future plan didn't work out like you thought. So now I scramble as if I'm in control of my life to find a home, a job, even myself after what I'm sure will be some very unexpected culture shocks. But in the end, I only echo the words of David:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures;

He leads me beside quiet waters.

He restores my soul;

He guides me in paths of righteousness

For His name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I fear no evil, for You are with me;

Your rod and staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

You have anointed my head with oil;

My cup overflows.

Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life,

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Amen.