The biggest adventure yet: living in a house 100% unfinished. There are no rooms that are done. The floors are still being laid, the carpenters are building a closet in my bedroom, and all of the walls need to be repainted (for a slim few examples). If you ask me, it doesn't look all the different than it did in December. I've found a room that won't be touched for a while (low priority) and put up my tent. The dogs and I are holed away trying to maintain a sense of humor and a touch of sanity. We are glad to be here I think, but I can't and wouldn't want to go into the details of what a disaster and a challenge this is. What do I do with all my complaints and frustrations?

A few days ago a Peruvian airplane had to make an emergency landing in Lima because a passenger was trying to force his way into the pilot's cabin. Turns out all he was going to do was read his manifesto over the sound system. I think I could write a manifesto myself, and I can empathize with his crazed obsession to have it heard and understood. I want to tell someone how totally ridiculous and horrible this is, but at the same time, I know complaining won't solve the problem. Deep down, I think I'm entitled to having things done the way I want (I'm tempted to say “in a reasonable way”), but the truth is that entitlement is a farce. If anything, all I'm really entitled to today is a little oxygen in my lungs.

When things are going this way at home (well I wouldn't quite say they were ever going exactly “this way,” but you know...) I used to treat myself to something special-- a long bath, a movie, baking a rich dessert. Where can I find a little space of enjoyment this afternoon? Beth Moore. My puppies, I suppose. Maybe we ought to take them down to the beach this afternoon.

Pray for us. This week won't be easy.

2 comments

1. Emily on April 21, 2008 at 9:38 PM

   Dear Hannah,
   
   we haven't met, and i haven't even rightly introduced myself. I worked with the Cubases in Puerto for part of 2006.
   
   On days like today, and the many more that will come, this is what you do: You get the 1.50sol, grab a car, and head to Barranca. There is a pastry shop on the way into town that makes amazing pastries of an endless variety. My favorite were the alfajores. Ask Grace, she should remember.
   
   You and Tim are in my prayers as you adjust to life in Puerto. It will get better, and it will be worth it.
   
   peace,
   emily k

    
2. The Masseys from Charlottesville. on April 22, 2008 at 3:41 PM

   Wow - We will be praying for y'all. I can totally identify with your feelings of "entitlement". I have felt that way about immigration here. I didn't realize I had these feelings of entitlement until we were at immigration and were told we didn't have all the right documents (which is not stated clearly ANYWHERE what you need). I found myself wanting to say, "I'm an American citizen and I am here perfectly legitimately, so give me what I need." Aren't we all learning a ton about ourselves!