I've been staring at this page for about 10 minutes, trying to come up with something to share. Obviously, as I've been posting less, I am having a hard time finding the inspiration to write these days. I think that it's a combo of being utterly exhausted from living in a foreign country and being tired of writing posts where I seem to complain about living in a foreign country.
I have been trying to put my finger on the reason that it is so exhausting to live in a country that you have never called home before. The one thing that I keep coming back to is that ever since arriving in Lima I have been living in two worlds.
I am physically living in Peru. Immersed in this culture, speaking their language, adjusting to the Peruvian way of doing things. But my thoughts, my ways, my language, my family, and my friends are of and in the United States. My facebook feed is full of life in the United States. I watch So You Think You Can Dance. I speak English in my home. I eat my main meal at night. Two worlds- both tugging on me; one demanding my attention, the other has my heart.
Yesterday was a perfect example of our paradox here. In Peru, it was a normal day. The kids went to school. Blake and I spent four hours at Spanish school. We had tutoring, did homework, ate a Peruvian dinner, and all crashed in our beds pretty early. Yet in my head I kept thinking about all of our previous 4th of Julys. Neighborhood bike parade, my kids spending the afternoon in the pool, grilling out. As the coldness of winter surrounds us here, I hear about how everyone we love spent the holiday. It is hard. There is loss.
But more exhausting then my two worlds, is the paradox of my thoughts and feelings these days. I mourn the loss of our life in the United States, yet I am so thankful for our life in Peru. I hate Peru, but I love Peru. I am scared of what we are doing to our kids, but I am sure of what we are doing to our kids. I don't want to learn Spanish, but I want to learn Spanish. I question God, but I don't question God. I am angry that this has to be so hard, but I am thankful that this is so hard. How can I cry tears from the physical pain of our loss, but also cry tears at the goodness of our new life at the same time?
Most people don't want to hear about the conflicting emotions of our situation. We all want black and white. Right and wrong. Yes and no. Do I like living in Peru? Everyone wants a straight answer- including me. My body is feeling the wear and tear of vacillating between so many emotions. We want labels. Is living in Peru good or bad for our family? I need an answer for that. But the answer seems to be both and my mind has been rejecting that. If it's hard for your family than why are you living there? Because it's hard and it's good.
There are no easy answers here. And I am beginning to appreciate that.