Home sweet home

Funny thing about going home. Somehow you always remember all the good things about home when you are away, and then when you get there, you suddenly remember the other side. Since this blog is supposed to show the nitty gritty, behind the scenes events that never make it into a prayer letter, I think I'll tell "the rest of the story" about our home coming.

The flight was fairly uneventful except for some bouncy turbulence which the kids said was nothing compared to the roller coasters at Cedar Point. I can't make an exciting tale out of that. The highlight was arriving in Houston and meeting up with ten other people we know who were on their way to Oaxaca with us. The flight was delayed for an hour, but we spent the time visiting and having a great time together. What a special gift from the Lord. Friends.

Getting through immigration was a slow process, but likewise uneventful. We were the very last ones through the line, having been seated on the last row of the plane. By the time we went to collect our baggage, everyone else had already picked theirs up and gone through customs. With only four of us and eight heavy-bulky checked bags plus forty pounds of carry-ons each (I know, ridiculous!), it was no simple process to move it all to the x-ray machine without a cart. By then, it was well past 10:00, and the employees were obviously ready to go home.

The moment of truth comes just after the bags go through the machine and you line them all up on the other side of the conveyor belt. There is a traffic button to push. Green light means you pass on out of the airport without a hassle. Red light, on the other hand, means they search through every single bag with a fine tooth comb. It's a rather stressful moment, like Russian roulette. We were carrying 100 "Treasures" (megavoice units), which is legal, along with all my vitamins and supplements which might have been questioned, and lots of books and other things. We all held our breath and prayed while I pressed the button. Green! All the airport workers cheered as we shouted our thanks to the Lord. Whew.

Everything went so smoothly all day yesterday. I'm thankful for all the prayers. Then I woke up today after way too few hours of sleep. (How could I have forgotten how the neighborhood dogs bark all night?) First thing I noticed was that we had no hot water for a shower. Secondly I started to make breakfast, and we had no gas for the stove. No problem, maybe the gas truck will come around. He didn't. Oh, but I needed to get to an ATM machine first to get some pesos. Both cars were completely dead from sitting so long. Ugh. This was starting to get frustrating. I went to confer with Jim who is still in Ohio, but the U.S. phone line isn't working either. Ack.

The neat thing about living down here is that I was able to walk to town, get money at the bank, and do all my grocery shopping at the local market and one tienda, and buy freshly made tortas (sandwiches on bolillos) for the kids' breakfast, and roast chicken for supper, and fresh tortillas for beans and rice for lunch (except the stove still doesn't work), etc. When my purchases got too heavy, I hired a moto-taxi, and got chauffeured to my other stops and back home. I paid him all of $20 pesos for over an hour of driving me around. Not bad!

The trip to town and back took most of the morning, because I ran into no fewer than six people I knew. I love that about this culture. Each one warmly welcomed me back, asked about Jim and the kids, and acted sympathetic with my difficult day which I was actually enjoying!

Once home I started to contemplate my plight. Of the families that normally worship with us on Sundays, all of the men are out of town. I was feeling a bit helpless, and not wanting to impose on the man who picked us up at the airport late last night. Just then three teenaged young men stopped by. I'm sure they would have rather played x-box with Jon E. or hung out with Bekah, but instead they changed my gas tank on the stove (which still doesn't work - maybe air in the line?), tried to light the hot water heater (which also still doesn't work, but the water isn't too cold for showering anyway this time of year), and got the car's battery recharged. They even drove it to the gas station for me.

In the U.S. these frustrations would have pushed me over the edge, but down here, we just take it in stride. Eventually we'll figure out what's wrong with the stove, the hot water heater, and the car. For now I can get on the internet with high speed connection, and just chat with friends and rest a while. I haven't put my watch on all day, and frankly it doesn't make a bit of difference what time it is.

Tomorrow the city will be shut down with road blocks and protests, but even that doesn't affect me much. Thankfully the rabble-rousers announce their intentions ahead of time so people like me don't get caught in the middle of it. I'll just stay home another day. Thursday Bekah will start school, and we will attempt to begin our home school schedule as well.

In the meantime, everything is out of the bags and more or less piled around the living room. I have a lot to do, but no rush to get it done before lunch. Oops. It's 2:00 already (I just looked at the time on the computer.) Guess I should get the chicken out for the kids so they can eat. It is so good to be home even with all the inconveniences. I'd trade this kind of stress for American-style stress any day.