Nostalgia.

nos·tal·gia

  [no-stal-juh, -jee-uh, nuh-] 

noun    1.a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life, to one's home or homeland, or to one's family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time.

For the smile that it brings to my face when I reminisce on memories of my family and friends and daydream about soon creating more, feeling nostalgic can be poisonous. Here I am, swimming in a sea of countdowns: 18 days until my mom is here, 3 more weeks of school, 4 weeks left in La Unión, and 5 weeks until I wake up in my bed in Colorado. Within minutes of talking to me you would know that I am dying of an eagerness to go home. Homesickness did not hit me like it did others within the first few weeks and months of moving here because my countdown for going home wasn’t going to end at Christmas. It didn’t hit me again when we started school back up in January because although I saw my sister, I didn’t get a taste of my normal life back in the States so I couldn’t realize what I was missing. It hit me a little when I got to spend Semana Santa with my dad and Susan because all my toughness was broken down in an instant and I couldn’t deny how much I really did miss my family. Now it is hitting me like a pile up of 32 semi trucks (the number of days until I am back).

I cannot pinpoint it to one particular thing that I miss. Certainly I miss my family the most. Ever since moving to Michigan for four years of college, I have always had a lingering feeling of missing waking up in my bed and walking downstairs to hug my mom or dad, of getting to sit across from them at the table and have a face-to-face conversation. Of getting to spend the day with my sister and snuggle into bed with her at night and fall asleep gossiping. But even when I was living in just another state, they were as close as a phone call away. I could pick up my phone and call or text them and talk to them in an instant. And my visits home were much more frequent with less time in between them. My family never really felt that far away.

Every time I talk to a friend and we get caught up, my heart aches to be with them too. I feel like I am missing out on their lives and their daily happenings. Our old inside jokes surface quickly and we laugh about times together. But it’s then that I realize that I don’t want to just be a memory to them; I want to snap my fingers and be next to them magically to continue creating stories. My closest friends have woven their ways into my heart like my family and I find myself missing them like crazy. Why is everyone so far away from me? Better yet, why the heck did I move so far away? Do not get me wrong, I am surrounded by friends here who I have grown to love deeply. We do everything together and I hate when we go more than 24hours without seeing someone. I will equally hate the day that they are no longer a constant presence in my life. I guess you will just always miss what you don’t have.

My diet is getting entirely mundane and I have caught myself drooling over the food I daydream about. “Cravings” would not do justice to what I actually feel about food. The list goes on and on with all the foods that I miss: steak, mashed potatoes, Chinese food, cheerios, turkey sandwiches, any kind of salad, raspberries, blueberries, milk, fresh bread, asparagus, juicy cheeseburgers, smoothies, yogurt... I have begun to contemplate and plan out what I would like my first meal to be when I get home. I have discovered that I would be happy with literally anything as long as it does include beans, rice, eggs, tortillas, or a weird chicken part. Sometimes I am afraid that I have forgotten what all that delicious food tastes like since it has been so long! I think my friends and family should start battling it out to see who will take me to the grocery store first. My eyes will be big and jaw permanently wide open as I move through each isle trying to absorb the glory of it all, although whoever it is will need to clear their afternoon for a few hours because we will definitely be there for a while. I have to physically stop myself from thinking about those foods because my stomach starts to grumble and my mouth waters. Instead, for now, I will stick my fork into the same pasta dish, peanut butter and jelly sandwhich, or tipica platter and be thankful that I have food to put in my belly.

There is no need to take me shopping when I get back. A) A mall will be absolutely overwhelming with the amount of shops there are to choose from and the unlimited items they all offer, the steep prices, and the crowds that will pass me. B) I have a big closet to go home to filled with clothes that have been untouched since August. It will be like all those clothes are brand new to me and the best part is, I already know that I will like what I see! I long for the morning that I do not have to routinely put on navy-blue bottoms and a white button-down shirt – when my choices far exceed whether I should wear pants or a skirt, or a long-sleeved versus a short-sleeved shirt for the day. Even on the weekends, when I have more ‘liberty’ in what I wear, I have been putting on the same shirts and pants for 10 months. I am so bored with it all! And I am starting to look rather ratty since everything I own has been through the pila a few times. Being scrubbed on a cement slab is no joy ride for my clothes: they are all stretched out (shirts have turned into dresses, as if I have shrunk 4 inches) and new holes pop up every week. We all joke about asking our parents to bring clothes to the airport when they pick us up so we can change immediately because we are that desperate, or changing our outfits at least three times a day just because we can and we will by dying to wear it all.

Just this morning, when talking on the phone with Kara, she moaned about not being able to wait until she is back home. We miss those daily comforts that we have learned to live without. Our water has been off all day making it impossible to shower, wash dishes, or flush the toilet. (A struggle that I have already thoroughly describe in a previous post.) Won’t it be great to wake up and not worry about whether or not there is water running through the pipes? To not instinctively run into the kitchen as soon as we hear it come back on to wash all the dishes, then run and flush and the toilets, and quickly take a shower before it gets turned off again? The no-water-at-school epidemic has become a permanent thing. We realized this when they bought colorful hand-buckets to put in the water barrels. We “bucket our business” daily now and it has become part of our normal routine. At least the administration was kind enough to give us buckets that are easier to use and prettier to look at! We even lost our guaranteed water supplier: previously we could always count on Lori and Cassidy’s house to have water even when no one else did. If we were out, we knew that we could at least escape down to their house to still take a shower. This luxury is gone. Their water has not worked for days and the roles have reversed as now they bolt up to my house whenever the water is on to shower.

I have been trained to do things differently that I am sure will take me a while to get used to going back to normal again. (I am confessing to all this with an air of shame.)For instance, the door handle on our house has to be turned upwards to open the door, not downwards like any other normal handle. Recently when I was at a hotel with a handle like that, I automatically turned it up to open the door like a weirdo. This next part may sound bizarre and even bordering on gross, but I simply cannot wait to flush my toilet paper again! Throwing it in the trash bin next to me is losing its appeal. I am ready to stop looking at or smelling someone else’s trip to the bathroom, but rather to just flush it all away thus erasing any evidence that anyone was in there. Someone will probably have to remind me to stay clean. It is socially unacceptable, I am sure, how dirty I let myself get here. It’s no big deal to see me (or anyone for that matter) covered in dirt or sweating through my shirt. In fact, I will re-wear those clothes later in the week! Things are not considered dirty here until they completely change into a different color. I also have lost all concern for using utensils while I eat.  My fingers and hands have proven to be easier to use anyways. Sometimes there just aren’t utensils to use in the first place, and other times my fork won’t get all the meat off my weird chicken part like my fingers could or the knife will not be able to cut through the tough piece of meat that is my meal so I just gnaw at it instead. My habits and manners have drastically changed and although I have grown comfortable with them, I do miss the ‘old’ me. (Of course there are certain habits that I have not let Hondurans engrain in me like throwing rocks at animals or throwing my trash on the ground.)

I apologize if this post makes me sounds like I am throwing myself a pity party, or am spoiled, or am complaining to no end. These are my honest feelings and what has been bombarding my mind lately. Putting all these feelings aside and moving forward is hard to do every day. I cannot make time move any faster or make the days come sooner. I wish I could, but I cannot and coming to terms with that is difficult. I often find myself very lethargic and unanimated to do anything. I am slowly losing my enthusiasm to teach and might even be less motivate to work than the students. How terrible, right? It is a battle and currently the nostalgia is winning. I CANNOT QUIT NOW! I have come this far already surviving and even finding a comfortable routine for myself. I am asking you to pray with me for the daily strength to just keeping going. I ask God daily to keep me focused and to finish out the year just as strong as I started it. I cannot let my missing-home attitude affect my daily life. I would be giving up on myself and my students, and they certainly do not deserve that. I am almost there! Pray that I will return to living here, not in my daydreams of home. I know that soon enough, I will be missing this place and these people very very much.