Can you believe I arrived in Colombia seventy two days ago??! I have less than two weeks left here! That's mind-boggling.
I'll be honest, this update is coming to you a lot later than I had originally intended. (Which is a drastic understatement lol)
When I left, I thought I'd write an update every week. Ha! Anyone who's ever traveled and lived overseas, whether as an expat or for missions, knows how completely impractical that is, especially in the adjustment phase. I realized this almost immediately, and thought, well, I'm here for three months, I'll do three updates! That's way more practical! Right?
But after the one month mark, I had reached a point where I began to wonder if I'd ever be able to bring myself to write... anything. At least it felt impossible in the middle of it all. Maybe a year from now. Maybe when I have some perspective and distance. Maybe when I'm not currently living it. I wanted to write, but I didn't know where to start, and I didn't know how to make it sound... good. I'll touch on this later in the post.
My wonderful dad has been gently and consistently encouraging me to write. "Journal. You don't have to post it to your blog," he's said, "But write stuff down. You're living out an incredible adventure. You'll be so glad you did."
I know his advice is very sound (as always), and I realized that I'm much more motivated by the desire to give an update to the wonderful people who have been so faithfully praying for and encouraging me than I am by the idea of journalling for my own benefit. So that desire is what has finally dragged me out of my writing desert.
I started this update about two weeks ago, and then let it sit. (Procrastination at it's best...) I've come to the conclusion that, in order to give you an accurate understanding of what this experience has been like, I have to split it up into several parts. This, the first, is a look into the hard, challenging, overwhelming nitty-gritty reality of how this has stacked up against my expectations and the struggle of how some of those expectations missed the mark. The second blog post will be a compilation of all of the ways that God has been faithful, the blessings and joys and delights of being here and seeing God do the impossible... All of the immeasurable blessings and beauty that's come piercing through the clouds in my time here. And after that, I hope to write bits and pieces here and there about the random stories, funny anecdotes, and lessons learned.
So. Let's begin, shall we?
The insanity of the ice and snow 'storm' that hit Portland in the days leading up to my departure caused a lot of uncertainty and stress, and eventually I decided to change my flight and take off a few days later instead (can't say that the few extra days made a huge difference in the road conditions, but it did for my mental state ;). So instead of hugging everyone good bye on Monday, I left on Thursday. And just like that, the adventure began.
I arrived in Bogotá, Colombia in the wee hours of the morning. Thankfully, customs and immigration was a breeze, and I was quickly collected by Papá y Mamá Lozada, the wonderful parents of my sweet friends from DTS/Outreach. They drove me to their house, got me set up in the guest room, and told me I could sleep in as late as I wanted (no arguing with that--I had been up for almost 24 hours at that point). I was finally here.
I spent the next day puttering around with them, making a 'Colombian Version of Costco' run with Mamá Lozada, took a looooong nap, and tried to help Mamá Lozada color her roots (turns out she had grabbed the wrong hair color and we ended up turning the roots of her light brown hair RED. oops. Mamá Lozada cleared me of any and all wrongdoing in this matter; she insists that she handed me the color and merely asked me to apply it, and I did as I was told. I plead 'not guilty'. But I still feel bad.)
Then I spent the next night with Andres and Natalia (you can meet Andrés and Natalia and most of the other incredible people who will be mentioned in this post here) and then was collected by Magnolia and her uncle, who drove us all the way (well over 6 hours) from Bogotá to the town where The Foundation is located. I was now finally... home. For the next three months, anyway.
I was welcomed with so much warmth and love. Magnolia had my room all set up for me when I arrived at her beautiful home. Her house is situated just outside of town, approximately a 15 minute walk from where the paved road ends, out in the countryside. The sunrises and sunsets here are nothing short of spectacular, and there's a special kind of peace and 'homeyness' that comes from living in farmland like I do at home.
My first week here was spent, well, sweating. I'm joking, except that I'm absolutely not. The climate hit me like a ton of bricks. I think the temps were hovering somewhere around 20ish degrees Farenheight with ice and snow on the ground when I left home, and when I arrived I was assaulted by high 90's with humidity that made me wonder if I would ever not be walking around glistening with sweat. (The answer is no. lol.) I'm much better adjusted now having been here for almost two months, but some days (like today, where the temps soar to 99 and my weather app says it feels like 105 because of the humidity, and we've lost power at The Foundation, so we're sitting stuffed inside without fans) the heat still gets the better of me.
The first week I got a taste of our schedule: Magnolia and I eat breakfast and leave the house by 7AM, making the 25-30 walk into town to The Foundation and arriving before anyone else. That first week I worked on prepping my classroom and lesson plans. TEFL certification or no, the idea of planning out 12 weeks of English lessons for an unknown quantity of children with an unknown English skill level was a bit daunting. We would work on prep until about 12:30 or so, when we'd head over to Don Ricardo and Doña Marina's home, where we eat lunch with them every weekday. Then it was back to The Foundation for more prep! Soon this schedule would morph into teaching weeks, where the mornings remained free for prep, and afternoons are spent in classes (first class from 2:00-3:30, the second from 4:00-5:30) Depending on the day, we'll leave anywhere from 6 to 8ish PM.
It was surreal to see my classroom come together before my eyes. The room I had been given was originally a computer room, and all of the desks were bolted to the walls. Luis David and I did some brainstorming, and then he industriously set to work rearranging the room to make it more accessible for more students. The end result was perfect.
At the end of that week of prep, I learned that I would have ten classes, spanning grades K-12 with one Adult Class, and that nearly one hundred students were enrolled to attend my English classes.
ONE HUNDRED??!
Cue greater overwhelm.
My second week here was my first week of teaching. It was overwhelming and I was absolutely out of my depth, feeling like a kid trying to ride a bike sans training wheels for the first time, tipping and almost crashing multiple times. But I also got that rush of adrenaline that comes with wobbling along on your own for the first time... It's terrifying, but it's also gratifying to defy gravity and soar along on your own. I crammed 18 students from 10th-12th grade into my classroom (which comfortably seats 12) and chuckled at their looks of horror when I told them they would be taking an English placement test. I stretched the limits of my voice and my Spanish abilities as I spoke every sentence in English first, then translating it into Spanish, straining to be heard over kids who were still testing whether or not this super pale weirdo from Los Estados Unidos was worth respecting. (I think a few of them are still testing me...) I was amazed at the First Grader's English vocabulary and intimidated by my Adult Class. It was crazy, but it was happening!
The rubber, however, was quickly meeting the road and reality checked me hard. I came into this experience with very specific expectations, hopes and dreams. I envisioned a challenging and difficult but overwhelmingly rewarding, joyful, vibrant, and exciting adventure. What I was initially met with, however, was pure exhaustion. The first three weeks were the adjustment period, and since everything was different, everything was a major adjustment, and therefore, exhausting. I was trying to catch up to the schedule (or lack thereof), working 60ish hour weeks, the Spanish, the food (I LOVE Colombian food, but when it comes down to it, it's impossible for me to avoid my laundry list of no-go allergy foods, and my energy levels suffer as a result), the teaching, the missing John and my family terribly (even more than I was anticipating), the countless, varied, and inescapable bug bites (two months in and I'm getting more big bites now than when I arrived) the heat, etc... My mind, body, and emotions quickly became exhausted and remained that way. Frankly, I didn't know it was possible to be so tired. I'd experienced exhaustion on my Outreach but this was a whole new kind of depleted.
This is largely why I didn't manage to get an update out earlier. My expectations were wildly different from the reality I was (and, let's be real, am still) experiencing, and I was bitterly disappointed in myself. Why am I so tired all the time? Why do I cry every other day and wonder if I can do this? Why am I such a wimp??! I didn't want to admit in writing how hard it was or how frustrated I was with my own stamina and attitude. It felt like I couldn't get my head or my body out of the quicksand.
Rather a downer, huh? And the last thing I wanted to be was a downer. Ergo, the blog stayed un-updated.
I continued to teach, continued to adjust. Continued to... struggle. It felt like as soon as I had sort of gotten my feet under me, something else would come around the corner and wallop me in the noggin.
I vastly underestimated how much I would miss John and my family. I knew it would be hard leaving the man I love for three months, but I assumed I was tough enough to muscle through it. I'd managed okay for the 6 months of my DTS, so surely I could manage just fine this time, right? Wrong. Long distance isn't easy for anyone, and we experienced our fair share of LDR hardships and stressors. There were plenty of moments where I wondered if it was worth it to stay here in Colombia when it hurt so far to be far away. I wanted to go home many times. But when I asked the Lord, He only confirmed more and more clearly that there is blessing and strength on the other side of obedience and perseverance, no matter how painful. He is faithful, and I'm already so overwhelmingly grateful for the lessons learned and strength forged through enduring the hardest moments together and choosing to let Jesus be the center and the sustainer, not only of our individual souls, but of our relationship. God is good and so gracious, and I'm so thankful for John's willingness to endure the challenges this experience has brought right alongside me. As always, my family has remained a stalwart source of love, support, and assurance as I navigate the ups and downs. On my worst weeks, both my parents spent hours on the phone with me each day, praying with me, listening to me boohoo and question existence, and encouraging me to cling to Jesus all the tighter.
I've asked the Lord many, many times what the point is. There have been many days where I've cried between classes or barely made it through to the end of the day with my sanity in tact. I wondered over and over if I was being a blessing or a burden. I mean, this wussy American chick comes over and can't stop crying about stuff. How is that a blessing? I've wrestled with a lot throughout this trip. And as with most real-life physical wrestling, it hasn't been very pretty.
There are still questions I'm wrestling with and struggles I'm working through, but this I can say with confidence:
God is good, and He is faithful.
He does not lie, and He does not make mistakes.
He is worthy of obedience and obedience is worth the cost.
Life is hard, but we are so overwhelmingly blessed.
Love is beautiful every day and comes at a terrible cost some days,
but it is always worth fighting for.
I can honestly say that the things I've learned and truths I've discovered during this experience have been far from what I expected, but I am nonetheless overwhelmed with gratitude. I have been and am blessed beyond measure, beyond my ability to fully comprehend. God is, indeed, so, so, good.
I can't wait to compile my 'here are all the amazing things God did!!' blog post. For now, thank you for sticking with me on this journey. It's been crazy. And I'm so grateful for your love and support.
Con mucho amor y un abrazo gigante,
Emmi
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