Just over two months ago, five new missionaries arrived here at the Farm. It is really hard to believe that a year ago that was our group- 5 new people, unsure about everything in their future except that they want to devote their next 27 months to this beautiful mission. Reflecting back on this year is both a joyous and a distressing experience- there have been the lowest lows right alongside the highest highs, but I am overwhelmingly glad that I’ve been through it all. I have struggled a lot, but this year has been more formative than any one I can pinpoint.
I’ve spent this year living in a house with between 9 and 21 other people, teaching classes I never studied to teach in a language I just learned, and constantly learning how to do basic things like it was the very first time. (I’ve learned to swim, drive a manual, start a fire, bake, cook, cut chicken, use Excell and Quickbooks, and probably a million other things over this time.) As I was coming to the end of my first year teaching at the end of October, I realized how very full of blessings this school year has been. I started out teaching Special Education (hardcore. I’m the entire special ed department…) and English for 3rd and 4th grades, and finished the year as a SpecialEd-English-KindergartenTeacher-AccountantController. (Where else do you get a title like that??) I’ve learned how they do math in Honduras, which is WAY different from how we do it in the states, the national hymn, hundreds of command words in Spanish (sit down, don’t bite, get off the roof), and how to keep laughing at myself especially when I really would rather cry.
In March I began living with two new people in a new room, which puts my tally up to 5 different roommates over the last year. Last January I lived in two of the children’s houses and cared for them while we were in staff transitions. I am constantly marveling at how I see my students in especially weird situations (kindergarteners running around outside in just their undies, 4th graders swimming in the river, random children at my kitchen table while i’m walking around in my pj’s or leaving the shower in my towel….) and how I have learned to love each of them so deeply through that. Nothing goes according to plan, nothing remains peaceful or quiet for long, and nothing fills me up in quite the same way either. Life is, in and of itself, a time of transition. Everything is constantly changing and evolving around you, whether you realize it or not, and especially when you’d rather it all remain the same forever. There is no use fighting against it, and eventually I learned to throw my hands in the air and enjoy the ride. I’ve felt homesick, i’ve been physically sick, and i’ve been sick and tired of almost all the different parts of my life here, but I know i’ll never be sick of the strength, love, and resiliency I see each day in our children.
We entered a sculpture garden competition at a local animal park with all our kids against 14 other groups of grown adults, and won first place. We managed to cook and serve Thanksgiving dinner for 50 people even after getting rained into the Farm two days before. We survived the departure of the old class of missionaries, and are hopefully on our way towards thriving in general. Our community is evolving and changing, but growing together each step along the way, transforming into another type of family all together. I wish I could recap the last year effectively, but so many things are better experienced, and frankly, it has been like getting stuck in the eye of a tornado. It will just have to suffice to know that it is one big adventure!
There are a lot of mysteries in the next year, as well as in every “ordinary” day here at the Farm, but some things have finally been resolved. I’ll continue to teach Special Education full time, stop teaching English and Kinder, and begin working in accounting part time as an accountant controller, which basically means it’s my job to know everything, all the time. I’ve also been gifted with the opportunity to start a pre-kinder play group so that our youngest child can have contact with kids her own age (can also be read “They are letting me hang out with two and three year-olds and calling it work.”) I can’t honestly say that this has been an easy, good year, but it has been one I wouldn’t trade in for the calmest, most peaceful moments that exist.
For your reading enjoyment: A list of blogs I’d love to write but don’t have the time:
The annual missionary talent show
• The time the car almost rolled into a busy city street and someone suggested we all get out, someone suggested we all hold still, and I suggested someone put their foot on the break
• The donkey that Haydee fed oatmeal to off a spoon
• The first time the Finca flooded and all the students, teachers, and clinic patients got trapped here overnight
• The time we went to mass in the balcony and awkwardly followed the priest down the aisle again
• The disappearing turtles
• “Litany of the stop light”
• The men’s weight gaining contest (hint: it ended with two of them losing weight, and the “winner” only gained two pounds)
• The time when one of our kids accidentally burned the hair of another while dancing with fire
• The drunk man who drove his car into the river, kept calling Laura Doctor Jones, was incredibly confused, and drunkenly bought us soda late at night.
• The time a caterpillar burned me in the armpit while I was laying on a bench in the kitchen
Kiddissa at the Farm 