confessions of a maladjusted former missionary

It's been a while since I've written anything here. Mostly that's because I have a hard time keeping up with being a mom, a wife, and a full-time public school teacher. But, another major factor in neglecting writing is that I've had a hard time adjusting to life in the States. For most of the past 8 months, and probably longer than that, I've been cocooning myself from the world. I suppose my philosophy was that if I drew into myself and ignored the world, I could avoid some of the pain of leaving Haiti. I've become a master at avoiding interactions with people that might lead to meaningful conversations. The only thing cocooning myself did, though, was isolate me during a time when I desperately needed to be surrounded by people who love and support me. Change is hard no matter what, but this particular change was extreme. We left our jobs, our first home as a married couple, Arold's family, our friends and coworkers, our church, the ministry to Haitian students we loved so much... Everything about our lives changed in one fell swoop.

Logically, I know we made the decision to follow God's leading and move the United States. Irrationally, I felt like God did this to (instead of for or with) us. In the beginning I was hurt and angry, feeling like God had sent us to the US and forgotten about us. When I'm being reasonable, I can see that God is still using us--maybe not in the way we'd like, but working through us nonetheless--and that he has a purpose for our time here. Arold is taking Bible classes, we are learning about various models of ministry, and we are working on becoming financially independent. Knowing that our time here is preparing us for future ministry is the balm to my hurting heart.

Living in the States has been good. We stayed with my parents for the first seven months before moving into an apartment of our own. They adored having Isaac there every day to tickle and cuddle and keep out of the dog food. It was a true blessing to live with them while we transitioned to life here. We enjoy the stability and conveniences of living in a developed nation. And, I personally am thankful for hot showers every single day.

But as good as it is to have access to the conveniences of the modern world at my fingertips, I'm still learning to reconcile the desires of my heart with the reality of today.

Trying to Remember

We're in the midst of some very frustrating "teething" days. My normally happy baby is quite fussy and can't sleep for very long without waking up to fuss some more. These pictures help me remember that good days will come again. Hopefully sooner rather than later!

yo kraze kay la

I hesitate to share this because it has nothing to do with our family, and it doesn't exactly paint a pleasant picture of our "zone," as the Haitians call it. BUT, I've decided to share about what's happening because it does effect some of my students. 

*yo kraze kay la means they break the house

There has been a land dispute in our neighborhood (not near our house) recently. It's escalating into quite the feud. There's a gwo machine (back ho) tearing down houses on the land in question as I type this. And, twice this week there have been guns fired (no one has been shot, they just shoot to make noise and show their frustration). We are not in danger of any kind.

That brings us to today. The gwo machine was busy breaking houses, so the kids were at the top of the road when I arrived in Gramothe, just watching. I tried to get them to show me what they were looking at, but they weren't much help. It took me a long time to pinpoint the location of all the drama. I didn't understand why they were so interested in what was happening, so I just went to my classes. In class today, I was teaching my students the English words for "I'll Fly Away." At the end of our singing, someone popped in and said something to a boy who bolted out of the room. After most of the other students left, Kenson told me that the boy who left was running out because he had just heard his house had been broken. (I know most English speakers would say "torn down" but sometimes I get sucked into the non-native way of saying things.)

Until that point in time, the land dispute was just something to talk about for me. It didn't effect my life or family, so I didn't think much of it. All that changed as I left school today. Suddenly it is real to me. I know the people who are losing their homes. I know the faces of the ones who don't have beds to sleep in tonight. As I walked home, I could see the walls of those houses being pushed down. I could see the hopes and dreams of the men who built those walls come crashing down. My heart aches for the families who used to live between those walls, the families who now find themselves homeless and at the mercy of relatives or friends that might be able to take them in.

Please pray for my students and the families who have lost their homes this week. And pray for peace in Thomassin. Only Jesus can bring healing to this mess.

UPDATE/EDIT 2-28-13: My husband wants me to clarify that the buildings that were destroyed were only partial buildings. (But when they talk about them they use the word kay, which means house. How am I supposed to know they weren't completed houses?) Also, the people tearing down the houses had the right to do so. They even had support from the police in the form of road blockades to protect them while they worked. The people who built the homes don't own that land and were given the opportunity to make the situation right. Arold says no one is homeless because of the gwo machine.

Monday Prayers

Here's what we're praying about this week.

• Isaac is sick today. Please pray that he would feel better soon.
• Arold's visa interview is in 10 days. So excited, but nervous too. Pray for us. Pray for the interviewer and decision makers. Pray that we will get this visa!
• Praise the Lord for the team that is currently here. There are quite a few familiar faces, and it's encouraging to see the same people return to invest in our Haitian friends.
• I've experienced some discouraging things recently. Pray that I will rejoice in the Lord always--especially when I don't feel like it.
• Carnival season is coming. Learn more about Haitian Carnival here. I like having time off of school (3 days), but we're not really fond of the holiday itself. Pray that the light of Christ will shine on this nation.

Hard Day

Today I'm leaving Isaac with the nanny and going to Gramothe to teach two classes. I really, really, really don't want to leave Isaac. I've only been away from him for a total of 2 hours over the course of his short little life, and today I have to be away from him for 2 hours plus travel time. I can't tell you how much that breaks my heart.

I just keep telling myself I love my students. I love my students. And also, Moms leave their kids to go to work every day. I can do this. Isaac can do this.

Pray for us today. As much as I love my students, I hate leaving Isaac even more.

A (not so) Awesome List

• Isaac went to Grandma and Grandpa's house and learned to throw a full blown fit. Awesome.
• The Kindle my friends at St. Mark Missionary church so generously gave to me a couple years ago took a spin in the washing machine while I was at my parents' house. Awesome.
• Isaac boycotted naps this afternoon/evening for about 4 hours. At one point I swaddled him and laid him down, and he ninja kicked his way out of the swaddle and then laughed at me. Awesome.
• I lost my mom's new camera when Isaac and I were visiting for Christmas. The last place I saw it was on the couch and on Christmas morning it had completely disappeared. Awesome.

• Worst of all, Isaac has brochialitis (I don't know if that's different than brochitis). :( Completely not awesome in any way.

"the life you give"

I caught myself praying a very Haitian prayer the other day. (Not a bad thing.) I think I was praying before our meal, but it really doesn't matter if it was mealtime or bedtime or just anytime. While I was praying I heard myself say, "thank you for the life you've given us." It's an English variation of the Creole prayer merci pou lavi ou bay, which translated simply says thank you for the life you give.

I often hear Haitians say this phrase while praying. It's used during church prayers, mealtime prayers, and prayers said at school and other events. I used to think of it as a nice general prayer. You know a good ole, Thanks God for my life. But ever since I heard myself pray that way I've been thinking about what it means.

I used to have a different life. A very different life. I taught 8th grade reading at a school I loved. I was part of a teaching team that worked together and supported each other. My students and I spoke the same language. I was deeply invested in my students and knew many details about their families and home lives. I also was very involved in the youth group at my church. I walked along side those teens as they figured out what it meant to follow Christ--and thoroughly enjoyed being with them. My family and friends were close by and I connected with them frequently. I was gainfully employed (something I really miss). In my old life if I wanted something, I bought it. I enjoyed the stability and predictability of my life, as well as constant electricity and warm running water. Shopping, restaurants, gas stations, nearly every store or business I needed were mere minutes away. I was independent and self-sufficient. My life was full and more importantly fulfilling. It was a good life.

Just two years later, my life is a bit different. I'm a foreigner in a strange land. I teach in a school where I can't communicate with most of the staff or students. I can't be deeply invested in my students' lives because we don't understand each other. I attend church, but I'm not a vital (or even non-vital) part of ministry there. I talk to my family and friends via Skype now--when it's working. I live in a developing nation where important paperwork is completed by hand. Corruption plagues the government. Riots are commonplace (though we haven't actually had any for quite some time). I am now dependent on the generosity of others to be paid each month. If we need to buy something, we have to budget for it. I get charged more at the farmer's market because of my white skin; beggars are especially persistent with me for the same reason.  Electricity is not guaranteed. I need help ordering at restaurants and sometimes checking out at the grocery store. I can't remember the last time I went anywhere on my own. The convenience of life is gone. But this life, this inconvenient and sometimes frustrating life, is still good... and fulfilling.

I'm thankful for this life God has given me. I have an amazing husband (cheesy, but true) who loves me and takes care of me. Arold and I are part of a ministry that is literally changing lives. Even with my limited Creole, God uses me to impact the lives of young Haitians. I am blessed with fellowship and encouragement by the myriad of people who come through the guest house to serve with MTM. Learning to budget has been a good skill to add to my toolbelt, and learning to live without the things I think I "need" has been a good exercise in what Haitians call degaje, making do with what you have. It also causes me to come face to face with my own selfishness and sense of entitlement. (while not fun, it's good for me, right?)

I never could have imagined living this life, but it's the one God has give me and I truly am thankful for it.

Hoping for a Miracle (When I'm not crying my eyes out)

Sometimes I feel like my posts need a disclaimer. This is one of those. I hesitate to share this post because I'm feeling  very raw emotionally. I don't' want to offend my ministry partners or give them a reason to doubt my emotional stability or ability to minister in Haiti. However, missionaries are real people with real emotions and life is just as messy for missionaries as it is for Christians on the home front. With that said, here's where I am today.

My favorite Bible verse is Romans 15:13 "May the God of hope fill you with all peace and joy as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."

I like it because it applies to nearly all situations--happy, sad, frustrating, confusing, etc. I also like this verse because I really like hope. It's such a comforting and uplifting thing to have in your heart and life. (By the way, what noun category would you put hope in? Is it an attribute, characteristic, emotion, feeling? I don't think it's any of those, but I don't know what to call it other than thing.) I also like that the reward for trusting in God is not getting what you want, but something far better peace and joy. But not just some peace and joy. ALL peace and joy. So even if God answers my prayers with no, not now, wait, or some other generally undesirable response, I can still have ALL peace and joy when I trust in him. And then! I will overflow with hope.

Have you ever met somebody overflowing with hope? I find those people refreshing and contagious. I want the same hope they have.

But, today I am definitely not one of  those people. I'm certainly not overflowing with hope. Mostly I'm overflowing with tears of frustration. I'm in the stressed out, worrying camp. Actually, it seems I've put up a tent and staked it down there. I might start building a permanent residence in the worry camp if I don't get a handle on these deceiving emotions.

We need renters for my house in Mishawaka. I was so confident in May that God would provide what we needed. I was hopeful then. Today is June 25th and all the people initially talking to us have lost interest, which I suppose explains why I definitely feel more desperate than hopeful.

BUT we asked our prayer partners to pray with us for 15 days about this issue. It's only day 10 of our two weeks of prayer. Please consider joining us in prayer for the next 5 days that someone will rent the house in Mishawaka.

Countdown for a Busy Week

6 days until Mountain Top Ministries graduates it's first class from high school

5 (and a half) months pregnant this week

4 times I've been kicked by my son since starting this post

3 days until our MTM friends arrive for graduation festivities (and bring all the things I've collected at the MTM office over last couple of weeks)

2 guests arrive this afternoon, Mr John the plumber/baker and a high school student who will be hanging out with me and my students this week

1 week from today I get to see my family in the US!

0 times I've heard "Feliz Navidad" and "Under da Sea" today... meaning the English camp at the school next door is OVER!! (This might just be the most exciting item on my list. I can't count the number of times they played that _(insert adjective of your choice)_ CD since Thursday.)

Electricity, and the truth about me

We've had lots of issues lately with the electricity. Sometimes the power plant doesn't give any electricity for a few days. If it goes too long, our inverter looses its charge and we're left with no power. This happens very rarely. We don't use a lot of electricity to begin with, and we try to pay attention to how long its been since we've had public power. It's a different life than living in the U.S., land of constant electricity, but it works.

However, the past couple of weeks have been rough. There was a problem, still is a problem, with the power coming into our street. We noticed the public power hadn't been on for a while, but when it did return our street was still in the dark when everyone else had power. We could see other people's lights taunting us from our candle lit living room. The neighbors had been calling EDH (the power company), but weren't getting any luck in getting someone to come out. Finally Willem found and EDH guy and asked him to come and check it out. Apparently the wire to our street isn't the right gauge. The EDH guy rigged it so that it will work for now, but it could go out again in the future.

In addition to that, our landlords had some electrical work done on our apartment, and apparently we are getting four more batteries for our inverter. This should double the amount of electricity we can hold in reserve for the times there is no public power. That is awesome. Except the batteries aren't connected yet and our inverter lost power last night around 8. I almost had dinner on the table (this is our normal dinner time), so we got out the flashlight and ate in the semi-dark. We adapted and enjoyed just talking to each other before we went to bed.

All these recent issues with electricity have made me realize something about myself. I get grumpy when there's no power. Really grumpy. Having no power makes me alternately want to cry and feel sorry for myself or throw rocks at something. In my desperation I might even write things like, "Life was so much easier when I lived in Indiana." in my journal. But I guess you'll never know that for sure. Ultimately this grumpiness is selfishness; I'm irritated that I didn't get my way.

Here's the problem with being selfish about electricity... I know it's not constant. I know I won't always have it. I shouldn't get grumpy about something that I know isn't guaranteed. If I lived in the States where electricity is a constant thing, I could understand being upset when it's out for several days. But I live in Haiti, where the only thing guaranteed about electricity is that it's not going to be constant! 

But more importantly than not being selfish about inconsistent electricity is the fact that I live in a country where there are people living in tents because of an earthquake that happened 2.5 years ago. They don't have electricity. They don't have clean water, let alone running water. They don't even have rooms in their dwellings. They get wet when it rains, and swelter the rest of the time. How can I complain about the lack of power for a few hours when these people lack...almost everything?

Lord, open my eyes to more important things than electricity and help me to see what's really important.

The ever changing road

The road from the guest house to the riverbed can get pretty rough during the rainy season. It's bumpy right now, but that part isn't as bad as it has been in the past. The bad part is the fact that there are huge holes on the side of the road, and with each rain more of the road washes away. Here are some pictures.

Here you are looking at the road. There is a sink hole thing to the right.

Here's a picture of the giant hole next to the road. The picture does not do it justice. It's really big and really deep.

Here's a view of where the water washed the road away. We made a ramp with some dirt so the truck could go up and down. It was washed away too and now there are some rocks there, but we have to add more rocks after each rain.

Here's a view of the riverbed. This big trench is where we use to drive to get to the bottom of the road to Gramothe. Now we have to go off to the right and around a little ways before we can get to the base of the road. 

Traveling to and from Gramothe can be a little tricky these days. Please keep praying for us as we make the trip daily until school is out in mid-June.

This post may not be family friendly. Just a warning.

Well, I wanted to write something good today, but my 7th grade class changed all that.

They made me angry.

Really angry.

So angry that after I left the class I speed-walked up the hill to the school yard and then all the way up to my computer lab. I was beyond miffed. I wanted to throw something, or punch them all in the face. (Don't judge me!) By the time I arrived in the computer lab I was huffing and puffing and I had to use my inhaler to be able to breathe normally again.

I guess 7th graders are the same everywhere. They all obtain the ability to royally piss off adults.

Ugh

(or  this post could be called "Lessons in God's Faithfulness," but that's only if I decide to be a good student.)

I'm having a hard time focusing on God's faithfulness right now. It's supposed to be my theme for the year, but I haven't spent much time dwelling on his faithful ways.

Instead I keep worrying about what's to come or what might come. Because, you know, that's really helpful.

We recently gained a new monthly financial sponsor, and that brought our level of support up to 69%. I was feeling pretty good about that. That's only 31% more that we need, and I thought surely we could raise the rest before the baby comes. Then we would be set.

However, some things on the horizon make me think our budget is likely changing--and not in a good way. One of my renters in Mishawaka is moving out in June. And I don't know if the other one can find someone else to share the house with. I can't sell the house because it appraises for about $5-8K less than what I owe on it.

If we don't have two renters in the house, there is no way we can afford for me to visit my family in the States this summer. That thought brings instant tears. I miss them so much. Everybody was together for Easter, and I cried reading my mom's e-mail about the antics of the little cousins at the restaurant. And if I don't go this summer, I don't know when I'll see them again. Who knows when we'll be able to travel after the baby is born.

Do you see the downward spiral I get myself into?

Why is it so difficult to trust that God will faithfully provide what we need? There are so many examples of his provision in the Bible, in history, in my friends' lives, in MTM's ministry, ... and even in my own life. But it's like I get blinded to the truth of God's faithfulness by all the "what ifs".

When will I learn to let go of the what ifs and cling to the Great I AM?

overwhelmed

I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by life today. I have a running list of things we need for the baby, another list of things we need to do before we can even start the application for Arold's visa, and yet another list of "essential items" I want to buy because, well, they would just make life easier. Today my lists are staring me in the face and taunting me with the knowledge that I have very little control over anything on them.

And then, this song starts playing in my head, reminding me that I don't have to worry. That God is faithful. That I have not been left here alone. 

What it boils down to is I just need to calm down and trust that the Lord God Almighty is faithful.

So many things to say... about being married

1. Married life is awesome! I love living with Arold and being able to talk to him anytime I want. 
2. He cooks, and patiently explains how to make rice the Haitian way. He even trusts me to make Haitian rice when I don't trust myself.
3. The most difficult part of marriage: sharing my computer with Arold. I really thought giving up closet space would be difficult, but that hasn't been a problem at all.
4. He's quick to help with household chores. He's done the dishes more than I have (THANK YOU JESUS!!), and he usually sweeps at least once a day.
5. I totally underestimated how difficult it would be to sleep with someone else in the bed. I don't know that I've slept all the way through the night since we've been married. He keeps bumping me and stealing the blanket. 
6. Can someone please explain to me how just two people can use so many dishes during one day?! Seriously. I don't understand how 1+1 = dishes for an entire family!
7. He's always looking out for me. He logs me into Facebook when he's finished with the computer. He takes things out of my hands to carry them for me. He checks the doors and windows before we go to bed. He makes sure my ear is covered by the blanket when we go to bed. And he takes his shower first in the morning, so I can stay in bed for a few more minutes.

I love being married!

In no particular order...

I miss Haiti.

I miss Arold.

I miss walking up the mountain to school.

I miss Haitian bread.

I miss walking down the mountain with my students.

I miss hugs from Nerlande.

I miss singing Creole songs at church.

I miss students in uniforms.

I miss seeing cute babies in the clinic.

I miss talks with Beth on our way to the city.

I miss hearing people speak in Creole.

I miss rice and beans.

I miss Haiti.

I am a teacher, not a nurse

Here are some of my job responsibilities:

• teaching English in grades 7-12
• after school computer class
• after school Laboule English class
• taking pictures
• helping in the clinic
• refilling prescriptions when the clinic is not open (mostly tums, tylenol, and high blood pressure meds)
• helping Johane with administrative projects

My title is "English teacher". That's pretty self-explanatory. I'm a team player, so I don't mind helping people with their responsibilities. I even enjoy it most of the time. (The jobs I don't like require filing the dossiers back into their respective boxes. I generally put them in numerical order and hand them off to Nalouse.) However, there are these jobs that are occasionally thrust upon me that I just can't handle.

Need an example? Good. I've got two from this week. First, one of our neighbor kids had a prescription for Amoxicillian and ibuprofen. Johane asked me to get the meds from the clinic on Monday when I went to school. Not a problem. I'm a team player, remember? I like to help. So, I go to the clinic. Before I even step foot in the pharmacy (which is seriously one step from the door to the outside), an elementary kid is there saying, "Britney, mwen malad." This kid is notorious for attention seeking behavior, so I didn't believe that he was sick. However, before I could shoo him away, he took off his shoe and then his sock. Just my luck the kid has a nasty big toe injury that I can't ignore. Gross.

Anytime one of the high school students gets hurt, they send someone to find me. It doesn't matter where I am, they expect me to have supplies and the willingness to bandage them up. I think the fact that I'm white makes these kids think I am medically trained. I understand that 90% of the white people they meet are working in the clinic, but I am not medically trained! AND I DON'T LIKE NASTY WOUNDS THAT ARE LEAKING BODY FLUIDS. Don't they know the principal's office has a first aid kit?

The second example doesn't involve any body fluids. Thankfully! After I cleaned and bandaged the nasty toe, I started looking for the two medications I needed in the pharmacy. While I was there three students and the librarian came to ask me for medicine. Three of them were very easy: tums and/or tylenol. The fourth boy, Wilson, was extremely ill. He had a fever and was shaking so much I was afraid he was going to fall over. I immediately made him sit down and I gave him some ibuprofen to help with the fever. It wasn't clear whether he was vomiting or had diarrhea, and I couldn't think of anything else to do for him. I told him to drink a lot of water and that he should go home and sleep. I also told him he could take more pills in 4 hours.

Later I realized that we had some rehydration packets in the pharmacy, so I sent some home with one of his friends who promised to deliver them. I was really worried about Wilson. He was clearly very sick, and I don't think his family would be able to take him to the hospital/doctor if he got worse. This morning, Arold texted me as soon as he got to school to say that Wilson was there and completely fine. Thank you Jesus!

The moral of this blog post is you should really ask more questions about your job responsibilities. And when I say "ask more questions" I mean you should probably ask, "Will I be responsible for cleaning and treating open wounds?"

Hot Sauce & Cholera

Arold arrived at his technical school today and found some other students sitting in the lounge eating. He noticed they were putting a lot of hot sauce on their food. It's really hot in the city today (95*) and he told me he couldn't imagine eating hot sauce on such a hot day. He apparently mentioned it to the guys too because they told him the hot sauce was to kill cholera.

Oh my word! Hot sauce as a preventative against cholera. That's hilarious! You can't make this kind of stuff up.

As funny as the idea of hot sauce killing cholera may be, this incident illuminates one of the issues I've been wrestling with lately. Most of my students (and many adults that I know) don't have a basic understanding of the human body or healthy living. What I consider "common sense" in the realm of human health and well being, is clearly not common sense. Obviously things like "keep open wounds clean" and "don't put bleach in your mouth" are not intuitively understood truths. They are lessons that must be taught.

The simple solution is to start teaching people about health. But where do we start? Do we create our own curriculum or find one that works elsewhere? What's the best way to get information to the people? How much information can they handle at one time? Is this something that can be implemented in our MTM schools? If so, will the teachers need to be trained? How much training do they need?

If only hot sauce killed cholera, then I wouldn't lay awake at night wondering how to educate high school graduates about germs and how to prevent sicknesses.

Pendulum-like Emotions

Today I received some disheartening news in an e-mail about some problems with my house in Mishawaka. I don't know that "disheartening" is a strong enough word, though. I'm really, really frustrated. There's very little that I can do from Haiti, and the problems seeming to be growing exponentially rather than decreasing. I wanted to throw something I was so mad. And then I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry myself to sleep. Because if there is one thing I don't want to do, it's use wedding money for house repairs.

In my frustration and despair, I wrote a quick e-mail to some friends at church. I asked them to pray for this situation because I totally need a new attitude and my house needs to be fixed.  I also asked them if they knew of anyone in the congregation who might be willing to help.

One of the ladies has already responded to my plea for help. She started with, "First of all....I'm hugging you tight even tho you can't feel it.  :-)" She always knows how to make me feel loved. I can't wait to see her again and get a real hug! She mentioned some possible leads for people who may be able to help at my house, and then she had this to say:

Finally, take a deep breath...do not allow satan to discourage you and pull your focus from what the Lord has called you to do.  In times like this I have found it helpful to speak (aloud) truth to myself... reciting scripture, recalling God's faithfulness in past experiences (my own and others), sing songs of praise.  All these things help me to shift my focus from my problem to God and His power over all.  It can be a real battle but these things help me.    

And with those words my heart is feeling much better. Hopeful in fact.

Thank you, Jesus, for giving me friends who know and trust you. For people who remind me that YOU are in control and that I can put my trust in you. Thank you for this opportunity to watch you do what you do best: solve life's problems in ways that only you can do. I know that whatever happens, it won't be because of anything I can do or orchestrate. You are the one who's in control and you will have all the glory. 

What no one tells you about living in another country

I try to keep things light and cheery over here on my slice of the internet, but I opted to share these particular thoughts because I think I think they provide more of a full picture. I am not unhappy in Haiti. I do not desire to move back to the United States. I just need to share some things that don't often get said.

• Living in another culture is hard. All the things you rarely think about in your own culture--greeting people, acceptable attire for public, knowing who to tip, smiling for pictures--suddenly require conscious thought. You have to remember new customs, force yourself through the uncomfortableness, and evaluate personal behaviors and habits that may need to change in order to fit into the new culture. There are constant reminders that you are an outsider. Eventually the novelty and excitement of being in a foreign country wear off. 

• If you don't speak the language of the people, there will be times you will feel inadequate, overly dependent on others, extremely frustrated, and sometimes ridiculous. You may decide to go without something rather than deal with the hassle it takes to communicate what you want. Sometimes it's just easier that way. There will even be nights you cry yourself to sleep because of the language barrier.

• Once you've called more than one place "home," your heart will never be completely happy in either. When you're in one place, you miss the other. You feel guilty for not being full hhere, for longing for the other place. People in both locations question your desire to live in or visit the other place.