When a board member from the school where I was teaching realized that my notice was for this week, not for some indefinite point in the future, he exclaimed, "You're not leaving. You're evacuating!" Well, if you want to put it that way, yes.
As things started to heat up, my housemates and I discussed the possibility of leaving. Possibility grew to probability. And probability turned to actuality on Monday when the situation took a turn for the worse. As Monday midnight neared, my friends booked tickets for early Wednesday morning. I packed in a flurry Monday afternoon (I had started packing a week and a half earlier) and wrapped up school stuff on Tuesday, visited some friends and called a bunch of other friends. Whew! I stayed up until 2:00 AM Wednesday morning, but more because I was hyper than because I had to. Washing dishes and furiously sipping milk straws to use up my milk was not necessary.
Our time at the airport was fairly smooth, thanks in part to Danny, who played point man for the ticket and luggage stuff. Added to the list of major life stressors, however, should be traveling with a lot of luggage. Not because it's hard to maneuver, but because it's always stressful to wonder if it's too heavy and if I will incur overweight fees. Luggage overweight fees, all you smart alecks out there. Well, between the four of us, we incurred $460 in luggage overweight fees, but that's because the airline we flew allowed only 20 kilos total luggage. For an international flight. Our luggage fees raised the price of our tickets by 50%. (Mathematicians, unite, and tell me what our tickets cost! :-)) But seeing as I packed up my life of seven months and said a mental goodbye to all of the things that I did leave, I didn't have a lot of choice. At least our total was still far better than the $1000 tickets that someone suggested we buy.
Now I am in exile. Or is it vacation? It's kind of funny when you can't tell the difference. Can I enjoy a popular tourist city when I'm here only because I had to leave my home? Should I feel guilty if I do enjoy it? Is enjoying it denial of the reality of what is going on where I left?
I've decided to enjoy it, denial or no. It's a vacation. Normal people take those occasionally. The reverse culture shock is hitting, even though I'm still far from home. I gape at McDonald's and Arby's and Wendy's. I take pictures of Krispy Kreme donuts. (Well, certain family members do that at home.) I almost cried in the grocery store today, because it was clean and there were so many choices! I even found Diet Dr. Pepper. I've been looking for Dr. Pepper for months, and I didn't buy it because I dislike diet sodas, plus it cost over $1 a can. Too much to pay for a taste that would disappoint.
Besides retail shock, there are the other funny little moments: realizing that I'm not going to hear gunfire and wonder if people are dying, realizing that that long beard is probably just religious and not a member of AQ, realizing that I'm not a kidnapping or terrorism target (which I didn't think bothered me, but maybe it did more than I knew), realizing that I can and should wear my seatbelt, realizing that the spiritual environment is different. It was so odd to attend a large charismatic fellowship this morning and to view the congregation through new eyes. It was a wonderful group, but they announced an upcoming international conference on reaching the nations, and I thought Why spend $100 on attending a conference? Why not just go and do it? Oh, dear. I don't want to be critical about things like that.
It was also strange to be called up front and introduced, then to have people afterward come up and greet us as if we'd been doing something hard: "Why [there]?" It's not hard. I'm a language student. I love the country and the people. It's been a privilege to be there. All of a sudden I was one of those people that I've looked at as heroes. But I'm not that. I'm me. I just live my life. But I'm grateful that people are taking care of me now as if I were a hero. People from the fellowship took me to lunch and bought my groceries and opened their home to me so that I don't have to spend $40/night to stay in a guest house. Forty dollars a night adds up quickly. Maybe if I don't tell them I'm not a hero, they'll keep taking care of me. :-) I feel like crying because I don't deserve this. I haven't done anything hard. Or was it hard and I didn't notice?
Laugh at my questions. I laugh at myself. Humor helps.
This evening our friend who is house-sitting for us called on Google Talk. I could see he was sitting in the upstairs diwan with several of his friends. "Are you chewing q-- in R's diwan?" (A diwan after a q-- chew is no pretty sight) I asked.
"No!" he exclaimed, showing off the interior of his mouth as proof.
"Did you hear the news?" he wanted to know.
"What news?" I replied.
"The news that nothing happened today," he clarified.
"Yes, I did hear that news."
This is good news, though not final good news, because it means there will be more uncertainty, more waiting. I will wait where God sends me, knowing he continues to direct my steps. And I'll post a few pictures for you as the days go by, since that's what I usually do on vacation!
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