My first week of classes went as good as can be expected I suppose. With all the switching class periods and new students in my room every day, and also learning to deal with my special needs students, by Friday I couldn't have been more stoked for the weekend. I went home and collapsed on the couch, too exhausted to really do anything. And I promise you I tried to pay attention during Friday night church, but it was a battle to even keep my eyes open.
Saturday didn't really offer much rest either. But what is life if not constantly busy? I went to lunch with a very good friend and then attended a barbecue that evening.
Mimi and I made chocolate jalapeño cupcakes with a vegan lime cream cheese glaze. They were, to say the least, delicious. I was a little worried that maybe the cupcakes turned out too spicy, but the lime cream cheese balanced out the hotness of the jalapeños. Really, you should try them.
Over a dinner of perfectly grilled tri-tip steak, the best potato salad and macaroni salad in the world, amazing cilantro pasta salad and a variety of chips, we sat and talked and reminisced about Honduras with our wonderful team. The barbecue was the three month anniversary of our departure. It is almost unbelievable that it has been that long and that short at the same time.
We are such a close knit team that once we were all together again it sort of felt like we hadn't been apart at all. Missions trips bond people for life, I'm telling you. We are already starting to plan our trip for next October, in 2014.
It is an interesting thing to spend time in a third world country. After so long you get to come home and go back to your 'normal' life. You get to sleep in your normal bed and wear your normal clothes and go to your normal job. But the people you meet and the workers you sweat along side with every day are still down there. That is their "normal." And doesn't that just blow your mind?
Having memories and pictures and friends from that trip really puts into perspective just how blessed I am to live where I do, to be who I am. With all the crazy things I have done this summer it is important to remember that I am lucky to have all these things. To have two silly puppies and a full time job. To be surrounded by family and friends.
As I begin the second week of the school year, learning to navigate new situations and ask tough questions about whether some things I'm facing are too difficult for a first year teacher to deal with on her own, I'm going to remind myself that this is a giant blessing in my life. This job, with all it's challenges, is going to help me grow. It is the best thing I could ask for, even though it's probably one of the toughest things I've ever attempted.
But you know what, I'm not worried. This is going to be the best year yet.
It's hard to write about Honduras. Not because I had an awful time and not because something bad happened there, but just because words don't do the time I spent in that beautiful country justice. A blog post does not accurately describe emotions felt, people known, and experiences completed.
We flew into the airport full of anticipation and excitement for things to come. Some of us knew each other fairly well and some only had the exposure of seeing one another at the various meetings this past year leading up to right now. But by the end of the trip, we were all connected in a way that cannot be explained.
Giddily we made our way through customs and ultimately outside, crowded with spanish speaking Hondurans. We were quickly the minority.
Our first full day in Honduras started with a visit to AFE. A tour from Pastor Jeonny which included lots of time with the students (te veo en la Universidad!!) and delicious baked goods from their new micro business, a bakery run by two extremely talented professional bakers (read best sweet rolls of your life). In the afternoon we brought food and water to the workers in the trash dump.
Here in America our dumps are private. Private in that we don't let just anyone walk up there and scavenge through our refuse to find recyclables (and food). But there are Hondurans who's only source of any income is to find things of worth in other people's trash and turn them in for a small profit. Some are there by choice and some are there by circumstance, but all of them do not have very much in the way of material goods.
The first time I was ever at the dump was an experience that I can't put into words. This time, however, was even more powerful. I feel like this trip, because I was able to actually interact with the people who worked there, impacted me a lot more.
You are not handing out food to a drone in a factory, there are eyes staring back at you. There is a story there, there is a person who has hopes and dreams and thoughts and opinions about stuff and things and life. That person looking at you, holding out their hand for two tortillas filled with eggs and meat, has a background and a destiny. They were created with a purpose, just like me.
It's pure circumstance that I am not a trash dump worker. I didn't choose to be born in America to an upper middle class family in North Idaho just as much as that person didn't choose to be born in Honduras to a family who has been in the dump since their great grandfather was alive. And once I realized that, something in me kind of clicked.
Why did God put me here? What is my purpose? Those are questions I often ask myself daily, especially in the seemingly relentless grind of my everyday life. I may never fully comprehend what I'm here for, but I know it has to do with helping people.
And that's an interesting thing for me, since I don't really like people that much. I would rather be a wallflower in a busy situation and just slip in and out unnoticed. I can't tell you why I am that way, but just that I've been that way all my life. I like to share my opinion, but mostly only when someone asks me about it. I suppose that's because when someone asks they have to be interested and if they are interested then I am important and I like to be important.
I didn't feel like I needed to be the center of attention this last week though. I was important to others in the way that I nailed together countless boards. I hammered until my biceps hurt. I screwed hinges on doors. I grabbed tools for others. I played jokes on one of the workers who played jokes on me first. I hugged kid after kid after kid and communicated through my severely broken Spanish and their small grasp on the English language.
I was genuinely sad and slightly depressed at the fact that I had to leave Honduras.
The night before we flew back to America we had a pow wow of sorts in the lobby of our hotel. I was not interested in being there. I felt like I had talked all the things I needed to talk and I didn't want to sit down there in that chair and cry again about how much this trip had changed my life. I was kind of over it. I don't like crying and I don't like listening to other people cry and the little introvert inside of me just wanted to crawl in my own little bubble up in my bedroom and have some alone time. But instead I stayed in the lobby and listened to what Adam had to say.
He told us that we do a lot of preparation for the going to a third world country part of our trip, but that we often forget about the going back to the first world country part after it's all over. Everything at home is familiar to us, our house, our car, our door, our chairs and our beds. Our showers, towels, sinks, kitchens, rooms, and curtains. We know these things will be there for us when we get back, but what we often forget to realize is that even though those things are the same, the people we know are the same, we are different.
I am different.
He gave examples from his own life where the things he was warning us about had been evident. He told us not to feel guilty that we had been given more in life, because we didn't choose to be born American. There is nothing we can do about that. He told us that instead of feelings guilty, we should instead feel burdened. Going back home and selling everything you own because you feel guilty for having more stuff than you need isn't going to help anyone, it will just make you miserable. So go home and let your burden fuel you to do more. To help more. To appreciate what you have more.
In this life I have been given so much, and often I am not thankful for it. I take for granted the fact that I can wash my hands in a sink and not need to sanitize them afterwards because the water isn't pure. I take for granted the fact that I can drink that same water and it won't make me sick. I take for granted the ability to flush my toilet paper down the pipes and not worry that it will clog something somewhere and back up everyone's system. I take for granted the simple fact that I even have a toilet.
But the first time I arrived home from Honduras, I did realize those things I was grateful for but I never really felt any additional culture shock. So when Adam was talking about that, even though I was listening, I wasn't really hearing.
Until I got home and I went to a barbecue at my cousin's house for the college age kids at our church. I shouldn't have gone, I felt so out of place. I had just come from such a poor country with people who don't have very many material possessions, but a faith that is so incredibly rich. They know that God is there providing for them and the He is faithful in answering their prayers. They know who it is that they serve.
And there I was surrounded by people, a lot of whom I was unfamiliar with, and I just felt so alienated from them. There was the stereotypical "how was your trip?" question that I was asked only once and the rest of the time was spent listening to others talk about their lives and their concerns and their problems. It was starting to get old fast and I just wanted to go home to my family. I wanted to go snuggle my dogs and talk to people who had just been through the same emotional roller coaster I had been on. People who "got it" without me having to really say anything.
That's when it hit me, that this trip changed me. That I came home a different person and everything that Adam had warned me about I was experiencing. Culture shock. I was not really prepared for it, to be honest.
But I don't want to ever lose sight of how blessed I am. I don't ever want to forget how faithful God is. How much He loves me and how much He provides for me. If those people in that dump can know God cares about them beyond a shadow of a doubt, then I can too.
We are blessed beyond measure. We are loved beyond words. We are cared for beyond our wildest expectations and we have a purpose that is beyond anything we could imagine for ourselves.
Yesterday was the last day of school. It was totes crazy sauce, as the children say. Also, I spend way too much time around high schoolers.
The last day of school was incredibly bittersweet. The boys were absolutely nuts in the gym, pushing each other like little girls. I had to be mean to them! On the last day of classes! I mean, what the heck! But I think they were just overly ready to be out of there and headed into the land of no homework filled with days at the beach in the sunshine - and who can blame them? I mean really. Shoot.
So today I went back to school for the last time this school year to help clean up and organize that jungle of an art room. In the midst of the chaos the floor was covered in colored construction paper and tissue paper. It looked like a rainbow threw up, I am not kidding. And I ended up throwing away massive amounts of garbage including but not limited to magazines from 1975, wrinkled and ripped up paper, art project examples that were older than dirt, and broken ceramic projects.
At 2:10 I needed to leave so I could pick up TheSeester from her last day of school and it was the weirdest to say good bye. I don't like good byes. They are sad and a little awkward and do I hug you or do I not? And I never feel like I really express good byes well. Especially if I'm really never going to see that person again - I don't know how to handle it. But I managed and I made my rounds and I walked out of that building excited about next year but oh so ready for summer vacation.
Tomorrow we leave for Honduras. We'll be gone eight days back in Tegucigalpa building a house for a family who works in the trash dump. We're starting off the trip with a visit to AFE and the trash dump and some sight seeing to buy souvenirs I think? And then the rest of the trip will be all about nailing boards together in the shape of a house, bonding with our Honduran work buddies and eating delicious food. Big things are gonna happen, folks. I can feel it.
I haven't even started packing yet, though. I mean, I am a last minute packer lately. I used to get so excited about taking trips that I would pack way before I needed to, but as I've gotten older I've also gotten lazier. No one was shocked. Packing usually takes place around midnight the day before I leave. That's also sometimes when I start the laundry too. I like to live on the edge.
And I'll try to blog every once in a while from the hotel, but mostly just follow me on Instagram (@natakeit90) for picture updates! Yessssss.
I leave you with this picture of one of our dogs. He likes to lay under the dining room table.
For those of you who have been around for a while, you may remember that I got to go to Honduras in July of 2011 and what an incredible adventure that was. Unfortunately, I kind of dropped the ball on blogging about it, so that's only about half of what I experienced. But it's better than nothing, right? Right!
The reason I bring this up is because it looks like I will be going back to Honduras again in June of this year. I have to start fund raising and saving up the dough. I'm sending this letter out to all the people I know, but I thought also there was no harm in posting it here. Even if all you are able to do is pray, that's all I can ask for.
To My Dear Friends and Family:
A couple years ago I was blessed with the opportunity to travel to Honduras with a mission team from my church. It was a whirlwind of experiences,especially because I didn't know I was going on the trip until three days before we left. A flurry of packing, laundry and three shots in the arm later,I was part of a medical brigade/building trip combo to provide the people of Tegucigalpa with some free health care, and also add to the amount of work being done in order to complete their Learning Center for rural pastors.
During my trip I bonded with a plethora of little Honduran children who covered me in stickers and showered me with hugs. I helped out in the pharmacy, mixed concrete by hand, played a lot of soccer, ate delicious food, and watched God work in ways I could have never imagined.
In June I have the chance to return to Tegucigalpa on a building trip led by my amazing parents and accompanied by both my brothers. We are going to be building a house for the people who work in the trash dump collecting recyclables as away of life. This is to help provide better housing so these families will have the chance to raise their children in better living conditions than a make-shift shanty on the side of the road. This is a great opportunity to build relationships with other people, experience a completely different culture, and further the kingdom of God.
For it to be possible to make this trip I will need to raise some money. In total I will need $1800 dollars. I have already started saving,but every little bit helps. If you feel inclined to help me out with the cost by pledging some money or sending up prayers, I would be incredibly grateful.
This trip is important to me in so many ways that I can’t even begin to describe. Even if you can’t afford to send anything except massive amounts of prayers, you can follow the trip on Instagram (@natakeit90) and/or I will make sure to send out letters (with lots of pictures!) upon our return to the States.
Thanks for everything. You rock!
Natalie
I went back to re-read my limited blogging account from my last trip south, and some of the things I remember about being in Honduras have stuck with me, while others have faded in time. But what is really, truly amazing is that feeling of fellowship and working at an exhausting pace was all 100 percent worth it. I wouldn't trade that trip for the world on a silver platter and I know that this second trip is going to be just as amazing too.
And to help make up for not blogging about the last half of my trip, here are some pictures:
Yesterday I think I freaked out for nothing. Today was just what I needed to show me how ridiculous I was being. And while there is truth to my words, things always seem worse when you are completely exhausted.
We started out with church this morning. I don't know whether I like it or not. I loved when we sang "Ancient of Days" and "Come, Now Is The Time To Worship" in Spanish. But when I was ready to sit and listen to the sermon at about the 5th worship song, I feel like we sang 5 before it was over.
The building was hot and stuffy, and even though we were sitting by the window, sweat still poured. But the experience of being an a house of worship in another country is something that I think everyone should try at least once. It seems to put things into perspective - we are literally ALL God's children. It doesn't matter what language you speak, where you live, or what you do for a living because God loves you and wants you to know it. I grew up knowing that we were all children of God, but things like that don't seem to really sink in until you see it in action.
And it was definitely in action, because this little church in one of the poorest parts of the world is pulling together funding to help sponsor a missionary in India! That just blows my mind. These people don't have a lot and yet they are making sure they are giving to someone else. That is seriously amazing.
The pastor that spoke this morning was American. He had been living in Honduras and it was his last week here. He preached about being for the mission and doing good deeds out of love. He said that you can do all the nice things in the world, but if you do not have love then you have done nothing. This seems to be a recurring theme throughout this trip to me. Do the right thing, but make sure you are doing it for the right reason. And if you do not have love in your heart for what you are doing, then it doesn't matter. I don't want to forget this when I finally leave Honduras. I want all of these things to stick with me. I want to be constantly reminded to be loving towards other people. And that will be fun for me, since I am not a people person.
After church we split into two groups. Some of us went to the Valley of Angels to go shopping and the rest of us went to see the Cristo El Picacho statue. I chose to go see the statue because I'd heard the gardens were beautiful. And plus, the statue is so large that you can see it up on the hill from town.
There is a large park where many people were picnicking, playing some form of soccer, talking, laughing. It really just shows you that people are basically the same all over the world. We like the same things, have similar interests, families, hopes and dreams. Watching people from other countries and cultures interact just really makes me think about how funny our own culture is, and how lucky we are to be living where we live.
What is hilarious unto me is the fact that the Honduras would try to practice their English with us. We are obviously American, since our skin is pale in comparison to everyone else, so people would say "Hi!" excitedly in our direction. My favorite moment, though, was this cute little Honduran boy, who was probably 5 or 6, who kept saying "Bye! Bye!" in our direction. His mother told him, in Spanish, that "bye" is "adios" and what he really needed to say was "hi."
On our way back to the bus we passed a zoo. TheMechanic and I begged to go inside and see the animals, and one of the other ladies wanted to accompany us. It cost us 10 Limpiras each to get inside (which is roughly $.50). Inside, the zoo was a little dilapidated and run down. The animals seemed as though they were incredibly bored, as many of them were pacing back and forth in their cages. However, the monkeys were completely entertaining. You could get so close to them that you could actually reach out and high five their little monkey hands. One monkey had even escaped from his cage and was sitting on the roof of his enclosure watching zoo-goers pass him by.
Also, there were animals in this zoo that I never thought I would see in a similar setting. There were raccoons, bunny rabbits, guinea pigs, white tailed dear, and goats. Seriously.
Tomorrow I don't know exactly what is happening, but I may be able to take a trip to the trash dump. I'm sure that will be crazy and hectic and emotional. Some people still live at the dump, but most people just work there now. Although, I don't really know how much better that actually is. I know that the people there will smell horrendous, but I can't even really comprehend what it will be like since I live where I live and I am who I am. It's just absolutely phenomenal that I am privileged to be here and experience this. My eyes are being opened wider everyday. I could not really ask for more right now.
Sorry it took me so long to post again, but things have been super crazy wackadoodle in my life, starting with going on a family camping trip and ending with unnecessary boy drama. And I kept meaning to post about my third day in Honduras, except that I didn't know if I wanted to. I briefly considered just skipping over this day and talking about day four, but then I thought I better at least acknowledge that this day happened.
To be completely honest, I had an awesome and completely exhausting day that ended in a mid-week freak out and feelings of inadequacy followed by sweet, sweet sleep at 9 o'clock in the evening. You see, sometimes I feel like I'm really super not good enough to be on a missions trip and I want people to like me, and occasionally I feel like I screw up even though technically I didn't really do anything wrong. The inner-workings of my brain are seriously astounding, I assure you.
My freak out mainly stemmed from feelings about my past trip to Washington DC when I was a senior in high school. I went with the girls in my small group, and even though I had a mostly positive experience, there were some things that happened there to make me feel like I didn't belong with them. And those feelings made an appearance, albeit a totally brief one and the very next day I was totally fine. So I'm not going to transcribe what I wrote that day, but instead tell you some fun things that I remember about that day.
Like mixing concrete until every muscle in my body ached at the mere thought of picking up a shovel ever again. And I didn't mix near as much as the other guys. This totally aided in the fact that I was checking my eyelids for cracks well before I ever normally even consider drifting off to dreamland. I shoveled and wheeled wheelbarrows full of concrete to various places in the building.
I even tried my hand at flinging mortar on the walls, but the room was crowded and the Hondurans were way more efficient than I could even pretend to be. So mostly I worked with the concrete. But that didn't stop me from getting the mescla (mortar) thrown at my face and down my shirt. Which was AWESOME, by the way. I definitely recommend trying that experience. It was so great, that I actually ended up doing it again Friday (but that's a story for another day).
Anyway, I think the most amazing thing about the entire building project is the bond that the building crew has with the Hondurans they work with. I think sometimes we get really caught up in the mission and getting stuff done that we forget we're actually working with people. These people have personalities and rather large senses of humor, which they use liberally throughout the day. I loved every minute of being with the building crew, and I think I could have worked there the entire week and been fine. There is such camaraderie between each and every guy (or girl, as was the case sometimes) that is just so incredibly special. It's honestly something that you don't find often, and I'm completely blessed to have been able to share in that bond. Out of all the things that happened in Honduras, working with the building crew was definitely my absolute favorite part.
Before the day started, we had breakfast at 7 o'clock this morning, followed immediately by devotions. Our pastor, who was able to come on this mission with us, talked about love and doing the right thing for the right reason. Sometimes I'm fantastic at doing the right thing for the wrong reason. Like helping load up the bus because I feel like it's expected of me instead of doing it because I want to help. I find that sometimes I have to sit back and check my motivation to decide whether or not I should continue doing what I'm doing for the reason I am doing it. But tomorrow is a new day with new challenges, which I welcome greatly.
I went to the AFE school today and played with the kids. We played a lot of soccer! So much so that my feet are aching! Those little boys are so good though! I was glad I remembered some of the tricks TheKeeper has taught me over the years, so even though I wasn't spectacular super star quality all the little boys told me I did well.
Jose was the one who played with us the most. He is nine and he let me take a picture with him. He's super sweet and he tried so hard to get us to understand him. He would speak very slow and repeat himself often. Sometimes that didn't make a difference - we just didn't know the language, but sometimes it was very helpful. He was great for practicing the very little Spanish that I do know with. I didn't realize though how many words I actually knew before I got down here. I've never taken a Spanish class and I already knew more than the other girls I was teaming with!
I don't think I drank enough water though, because I don't really feel that great. I played hard today, and it would be a shame if I got sick. I'm laying down before we go to dinner. I'm tempted to go to the pool in a little while, or at least downstairs to see if the wi-fi is on yet. The internet is so very sketchy down here!
Dinner & After:
Tonight's dinner was followed by worship. TheKeeper requested the song "Lord I Lift Your Name On High" because we wanted to do the motions! So the song starts, and then the leader stops to explain that he would like to change the words from "I'm so glad You're in my life" to "I'm so glad I'm in Your life" because God is greater than we are, and it's a reward to be His children. And then we start the song over, sing the changed words, get to the chorus, and we just start doing the motions when Pastor M stops the song again!
He points out that TheKeeper, TheMechanic and I should stand in the front and lead the whole team in our motions. And then everyone sends Dad up there with us, which he totally did not want to do. Haha! Then we start the song again, and the whole room joins in with the motions. We are singing through our laughter, worshiping Christ with joy in our hearts, and I think that's exactly how you're supposed to do it. A joyful noise we will make!
And if you think that was buckets of fun, just wait. Because there's more. (I know! How could there be more!? But there is. And it's amazing.)
Worship had ended and people were dispersing into the lobby for Facebook and e-mails and Skype loved ones, while there were a good many of us who remained in the cafeteria for conversation and drinks. I'm sitting with Dad and couple of other people talking and laughing when one of the girls from my team, who is a hairstylist by career, walks in with her clippers. Dad makes an offhand remark and then has to back track to explain himself.
It seems that he and another gentleman had decided today that if one of them shaves their head bald the other would do it to. I'm not at all certain as to how the agreement came about, but what's important here is that my dad is a "long haired hippie" and shaving his head bald is something that would be completely shocking and a drastic change to say the least. Dad tells her that maybe she can cut his hair tomorrow night.
About 15 minutes later, in walks the guy that my dad made the bet with - you guessed it, completely bald. There is no escaping now, the deed has been done and it's time for my father to step up to the plate. There is loads of laughter from the entire room, and more people trickle in from the lobby to find out what is going on. Dad leaves the room to rid himself of his blonde locks.
Everyone is buzzing about what will my mother say? What do you think he will look like? Man, this seems to be taking a long time! And it did take longer than we had expected, but not just because Dad started out with more hair than his fellow bet-mate, but when came back a baldy-waldy he was joined by hairless Mechanic as well!
I took their picture and quickly uploaded it to Facebook like the good 21st century internet capable daughter that I am and waited for the inevitable mother freak out. It only takes a couple minutes before she comments "AAAHHHH!!"
TheKeeper posted a status update in addition to my picture, to which my mother replies, "You are supposed to keep them from doing this crazy stuff!"
The entire room was in stitches, I believe.
A few of the guys said that the new qualification for being part of the building crew was to be bald, wherein all the eyeballs in the room shifted toward me and the other girl who was planning on working on the learning center tomorrow. Then I had to explain to them that I would look funny bald for a multitude of reasons, the main one being that I had a rather large dent in the back of my head.
No one really believed me.
So I made them touch it. One guy subconsciously wiped his hand off on his pant leg after making contact with the crater that is the back of my skull. He realized what he'd done, and apologized explaining that he couldn't have stopped himself if he tried. He just had to "wipe the creep off." I found that absolutely hysterical because the back of my head gets a variety of reactions from different people. The ones who are grossed out by it used to hurt my feelings because, let's face it, it's not diseased or anything. But now they just make me laugh, because my head is just like yours only shaped funnier. God just made me special, okay? Don't hate.
But now it's bed time, and I'm hoping that tomorrow is more awesome than today, although to be honest I'm not really sure any day will be able to top how fantastic today was. Tomorrow definitely has some big shoes to fill.
I have been gone a while, bloggies, I know. I was too busy having an adventure in another country to blog! That and the internet was really sketchy and I was only using my phone because I didn't have a computer, and well, hello! It was an adventure!
You see, my church leads missions trips to Honduras and has been for years. My dad has made four trips, and for the first time I was able to join him. But oh my word was this ever a whirlwind of a trip. It started and ended so suddenly that I didn't really have time to think about what was happening. The entirety of my stay in Tegucigalpa, Honduras involved me actively choosing to stop what I was doing to take in the fact that I was actually in a third world country surrounded by people who didn't speak my language and yet were so happy that I was there. I just had to take time to revel in the fact that I was given a once in a lifetime opportunity, and be completely and totally thankful that I was where I was.
But before I get too far, let's back up for a second. Sunday afternoon I believe it was, I called my mom just for funsies and because I like to hear her voice. But she told me that my great uncle had been involved in an ATV accident, in which he crushed his kneecap and was rushed into emergency surgery. My uncle and aunt are also involved with the Honduran hype, and this accident prevented both of them from taking their trip.
Skip forward to 10:30 that night, my mother sent me a text. This is unusual because normally she's in bed at that time. I'm sitting on the couch in my living room in Moscow, unsuspecting of the glorious opportunity that was just about to be extended to me.
"Do you want to go to Honduras?"
I have to tell you, I just about died. My heart raced, my breathing became shallow, and my hands started to shake. I had trouble texting her back. Seriously? When did they leave? Did I have to fill out paper work? What about shots? How much did it cost?
And the whole time this is going on I'm telling PC over instant message because I can't just sit there and not let someone know what's happening to me! I'm shaking for crying out loud!
Mom told me to sleep on it and pray about it. The trip would be free for me, but they had to talk to one of the trip leaders first and see if the ticket could even be changed to my name. The team was leaving for Honduras on Wednesday. Monday morning my mom let me know the ticket had been transferred over and I needed to pack up my stuff and come home as soon possible.
I made the hour and a half drive by myself. Tuesday was a blur of getting my arm pumped with diseases (and oh how I hate shots!!), shopping, filling out the necessary paperwork and packing. Wednesday involved a bus ride to Seattle and subsequently sleeping on the two consecutive plane rides thereafter before finally landing in our sunny and warm Central American destination on Thursday around lunch time.
