We began our year-long adventure the only way we Pobletes know how...late! We were behind from the start, buying our plane tickets only nine days before we left. We got serious about the packing two days before departure, and still had to rely on the kindness of our dear friends, the Murphys, to get us going. With just a few hours left before we were to leave, Traci took over my suitcases, and even with her painfully swollen arm she was more effective than I was. Jim rushed to his house to bring us an extra suitcase, and I still had to purge the pile of items I wanted to bring. We ended up with five suitcases, which were packed with the following: winter clothes and shoes; our down comforter, two sheet sets from Costco and my pillow; two new beach towels (also from Costco); my Penn State Snuggie, coffee mug and a small Nittany Lion banner; dog accessories for two (bowls, leashes, rawhide chews, toys, etc.); nine small, flat items of wall and table decor and a cross; a folder full of cherished cards from friends and loved ones; a few books, including the Bible, some Bible Studies and the writer's bible, otherwise known as the AP Stylebook (all mine); and many books, binders and business supplies (Kiko's). Really and truly, not a whole lot. Who moves to another country with only five suitcases, leaving behind a fully furnished house? The drive to LAX in the limo that my thoughtful parents got for us mirrored the darkness and rain outside - I was sad.
My life in Peru didn't exactly start out the way I had expected. While it was tough to leave my family, friends and church, I knew I had lots of good things waiting for me. However, once I got here I found things different than I had imagined. While we were very fortunate to live in the family apartment, it wasn't a place of my own. The volunteer leadership position I was looking forward to didn't work out because the church we loved when we were here in 2009 had changed drastically and I no longer felt comfortable there. The small group of expat friends I met in '09 had dispersed, and Kiko was immediately immersed in classes, work, and family activities. I felt really lonely and depressed.
I began to adjust to my new life little by little, or as we say here "poco a poco". It was great having the dogs for company and to get me out of the apartment. I started working, and working out, meeting people and going out. Perimenopause hit hard, and I cried a lot. We traveled to new places, and I stayed by myself while Kiko traveled for work. And then the situation at home changed. Allie was supposed to live in our house and take care of it for the year Kiko and I would be gone. However, her own situation changed when she was laid off from her fulltime job. She decided to move to Denver, and with Erika still at school in Pennsylvania, we had to make some adjustments which included a few new residents at Yellow Pine Ridge. Having one daughter move out of state and the other one on her own on the east coast, a very dear friend whose cancer returned, and parents going through various health issues while being so far away has been emotionally difficult.
Now that the year is over, I feel like I should be a different person from the experience. My Spanish is much better than it was when I arrived, but I'm still not fluent. I got a job as an English teacher after just a few months, and after working for nine months I'm back to being unemployed. I volunteer for a great program once a week, but I could be doing more. I'm comfortable walking and taking public transportation by myself, going to mercados to shop, and talking with the maids in the park as we walk "our" dogs. I don't understand the upper class culture, and even though I generally live in it, I don't fit in.
So I have to ask myself, "Now what?" Or as translated into Spanish, "Y?" Which translated back to English is, "And?" Haven't I had life-changing experiences? Shouldn't my attitude reflect everything I've experienced here? Why wouldn't I be more accepting, understanding, patient? Instead, I feel like I have more questions than answers, and am still perplexed and even frustrated by life here. I should be BETTER than I was before I came here. Otherwise, what's the point? What have I ACHIEVED???
Back to my question, "Now what?" It's mid-April, Kiko is growing professionally and so are his business opportunities. Here. In Peru. But he's really happy with what he's doing, happy to give back to his country by using his coaching. Happy to be with his family, his language, his food, his culture. So it's best that he stays here, for now. As for me, I'm ready to go home for awhile, to my own house, to spend time with my parents, and friends. Actually, we hope to be able to go home together for the summer, then Kiko will return to Lima and I'll look at my options. In the meantime, maybe I'll just enjoy Peru without trying to accomplish something.
