a door to be opened

Just finished watching an interesting movie. I think I like it so much because I guess I can see myself in the character. The whole movie is about the anger of the main character and how her anger permeates to affect the rest of the people.

I am not trying to say that I am just entirely full of anger, but it is her hardness I identify with. She is hardened by hurt. She distances herself to protect herself. It seems as though people can't reach her yet the very one that does isn't so much trying to break through her hard exterior. He is just there. Repeatedly.

I suppose so often that is exactly what I crave. I want someone to be there for me. Sure, I may seem hardened on the outside, but really inside there is an insecurity, a hurt, fear and all of those other things. But who wants to let that show? It seems much "easier" to lock that all away and close the door.

The downside is that others only see the hard surface of the door and may never actually see inside.

weekends

I am not sure why the weekends seem to be harder on me. Maybe because what little routine I have on weekdays flies out the window on the weekend? Maybe because I think people will be freer to visit me and that is not the case at all? Maybe I get my hopes up only for them to be dashed?

I walked around a few stores today and longed to be back in Peru. I longed to speak Spanish. I longed to hear the sounds, smell the smells and see the sites. I longed to be with people who are my friends. I wanted to be in a place that I felt safe and comfortable.

I almost started crying a hundred times. I had to keep telling myself to wait until I got home. Wait until it is okay. But when I seem to want to let the tears out, they just don't flow. I feel unhappy and discontent.

I don't feel as though I belong. I know I need to find a place to fit in, a place to belong to. A community. I thought my community was here, and in some way it is. But my community is no longer one, it has split into many parts and I am not sure which I fit into. This has some resemblance to my parents divorcing and creating new families. I wasn't really a part of either although before I was part of the one. I think that is how I feel a little bit.

I wish I knew where to start. I wish I knew where I could fit in, where I could belong, where I could become a part of things. You know I always said it may be easier to "start over" and not return to a place I was once part of. Going back brings up expectations of what once was and will never again be. I don't really know how to release those expectations in order to allow God to recreate things.

I feel really alone here. And I don't like it.

meet needs

I find it interesting that so many people are non-committal. I have gotten a lot of suggestions and open invitations from people. But very few have been specific. And even fewer are willing to go the extra mile to reach me.

I say this in the context that people would prefer I go to them. I know, they have kids, they have houses, they have lives.

I say this in the context that I hear a lot of "we should get together" without a date or a time. It never happens.

I say this in the context that it ends up being what is convenient for them.

I also say this in the context that it was nice that yesterday a friend went out out of her way to pick me up, take me grocery shopping, allowed me to cook in her kitchen, and took me to a Kings game.

I also say this in context that is was nice today to be picked up and taken to lunch, back to my friends house to play with her twins and then driven on an errand I had. We talked about how too many people say "whatever you need" and few people actually reach out to meet needs.

So, I say all of this to encourage you to meet needs you see. Don't just offer to meet the need.

encouraged by cumbia

Speaking of water shortage and water restrictions, Downy has created a special cumbia song to encourage Peruvians to cut back on their water use. People too often go without in many parts of Lima and Peru. Would watching this help you remember to turn off running water?

water restrictions

After I got home last night and catching the last few minutes of american idol, I also watched the first few minutes of the local news. (Which by the way I really miss watching in Peru!) The story that caught my eye was about the new water restrictions being enforced in Folsom, CA.

I know about water restrictions and was curious what type of restrictions are adopted in a state which by comparison, has a lot of water. The restrictions have to do with landscape watering. The city will being to monitor which days you water on and if your house address is an even number, you can water certain days, and odd numbers have their reserved days. So essentially, there is water, they just want people to be more mindful of how it is being used.

Inside, I could only chuckle. For almost a year in Peru, my water was shut off by 3pm - daily! If you were to try the tap, nothing would come out. I would set my alarm to return to my house about a half hour before in order to fill the tea kettle for hot water and a bucket for washing dishes later along with a few other pots in case I wanted to cook something.

I kind of hated this time because it seemed to attract a lot of flies! The dirty dishes would often sit in the sink overnight and the first thing I would do upon waking up (after starting the coffee) was wash dishes. I just couldn't stand to go to bed with a full sink. But sometimes, there just wasn't any more water. Nothing seemed to ever feel really clean because you wanted to use as little water as possible. Many nights I chose not to cook because I didn't want to clean up afterward.

What I learned to appreciate were Sundays and Mondays. After church on Sundays, I had a window of time that the water would still be on. I would rush home to use my time to cook or bake something special that day. The entire day on Monday would be dedicated to my kitchen until the water shut off at 3pm of course.

Water restrictions in Folsom...we'll see if it helps!

size vs skill

So I couldn't help but wonder last night as I watched these giants take the court, is their success based on size or skill? They fit into the basketball stereotype simply because they are tall. But does one have to play really well or do they just have to be really tall?

Made me think about many football players that are really just big. Again, I am not even sure they have much skill, I just see that they are big. Size vs skill?

After watching soccer for so long, I am always impressed by the skills that soccer players possess. The fancy footwork always dazzles me well. I suppose they are the shorter of the bunch of sports players.

I really don't know much about sports playing, but I was just curious...do people choose what kind of sport to enter based on size or skill?

kings game

Last night, I was lucky enough to head to a Kings game with a friend. Since heading to a Peruvian soccer match was part of my last few days in Peru, I thought it may also be fun to go to a game here. I was hardly prepared for several of the differences I faced.

Walking into the arena after so long was amazing because things just seemed so different. I tried to hand my ticket to the first guy and he just wanted to run the metal detector in front and in back of me. The next lady took my ticket and scanned the bar code, then gave the whole thing back to me. Okay, what was that all about? When did the ticket people stop taking the tickets? What is the point of the bar code? Do they think they are reducing paper waste? I still have the ticket...it will still end up in the trash somewhere!

Just inside the doors, I couldn't help but laugh at the stark difference of the food available. There was stand after stand in Arco of ice cream, sandwiches, and the most comical - portable bars! Knowing that arena food is probably two to three times what it should be, I could only imagine the price hike on a rum & coke. Amazingly enough, people bought these things. In Peru, there were a few stands where the women would take whatever they sold that evening and feed their family the next day. They might have even been able to serve meat if the sales were good enough. The majority of people inside the Peruvian stadium buy small packets of chifles, habas tostadas, and other crunchy salty things for a whopping $.15 each.

The game last night was more of a show. There were a few people that were emceeing and games were played whenever possible. They kept giving things away in an effort to win over more fans. The fan base seems to be low and it is said because the team isn't playing well. The final score was only a 7 point spread but I could see that the Kings only seemed to have spurts of good playing.

The highlight? Michael Jordan was at the game!

reoccurring dream

I seem to keep having the same dreams, or dreams about similar topics. It seems to always have to do with packing myself up to move. Sometimes I am with all Peruvians, last night it was a gringa friend who was with me, helping me. Often I am racing to get things done in order to get to the airport on time.

Seems like last nights dream was a bit different. I was packing up the final things with my friend at the ministry office, merely for the additional space. My ministry partner was trying to enter the building by the front door, because he did not have a key. (The ministry office was actually my personal apartment.) He and several girls he had with him tried to find a way in through the door or through the windows. I wanted to head out the back but was just not quick enough. I think he had seen my friend inside.

He and his group went around to the side of the place where there was an open window with a wooden frame and a long curtain to cover it. The curtain was blowing in the wind. He prepared to go through the open window and I kind of popped up, visible to them all. He stopped what he was trying to do and backed off.

Somehow when we were finished packing things up, we were exiting. He felt it was his right to stand at the door and await our exit. My bags were still inside and would be going to the airport with me later on. He demanded the key to the door which my friend gave him and we left.

Later on, it occurred to me that the key my friend had given him was the only one. My bags were now locked inside the room and I would not be able to get my things out in time to head to the airport.

Then I woke up.

Seems like every night for the past several I have a similar dream, with different details. It is sort of exhausting. I am already here and really don't desire to relive those last moments.

chosen

I am reading through Job. Is that telling? Fitting? Crazy? I am not sure, but I had tried to follow a reading through the Bible in a year type thing and although I let e few weeks go by without following it, I decided to get back on the bandwagon. So, I am in Job right now and thankfully, I am almost done.

A few things have stood out to me. But, I wanted to highlight that as I started in on Job 30 yesterday, I was struck by the fact that Job had become the "butt of the joke." Because of his losses and "misfortune" he was now mocked, spit on, taunted and so on. Why did this stand out to me? Because those around him were responding to his external state. They saw the losses, they saw the boils and suddenly he became the lowly, the rejected. Their mocking and taunting really had nothing to do with Job's character or his heart. They responded merely to what they could see externally.

It is too bad that people respond to externals rather than what is inside. Too often, we see someone and based on what we can visually assess, we judge them. Judgment is wrong. Basing things on externals is wrong. Oh, but it happens.

If we look back in the first few chapters of Job, we find that the things that happened to him were not as a result of sin. Satan was roaming the earth and when he reported himself in the presence of God, God offered Job as an idea. God OFFERED Job. That was a reality check for me! Satan didn't just choose Job and God gave permission. God offered Job to satan as a person who could lose everything and not sin, not dishonor God.

I guess what strikes me then is that by chapter 30, the people are mocking him based on what they see. However we know (Job didn't at the time) that God had chosen & offered Job to Satan to go through all of this as a testimony of Job's faithfulness to God. How many times do we see trials as a result of sin? In Peru, it was all too common for others to see something go wrong and immediately assume it was judgment from God on that person's sin.

Have we ever looked at someone's life, seen them walk through trials and thought, wow...how lucky...they were chosen by God to be a testimony to Him. How many times do we encourage those going through trials in that way? It sure is easy to make judgment on what we see. But next time, when you see someone going through a difficult season, trials and tribulations, remember that God may have chosen them to be a testimony of His greatness. Encourage your brother or your sister in that way.

This is not to say that in moments of grief in their life, you walk up and pat them on the back and say "Lucky you!" but gently remind them that they go through things only by God's permission and sometimes by God's suggestion. Those times are opportunities to trust Him in a greater way. Encourage your hurting friend to recount God's faithfulness even in difficult times. Don't mock, spit upon or taunt them.

dedication

If I could, how I would love to dedicate these verses to someone.

Then Job responded,
What a help you are to the weak!
How you have saved the arm without strength!
What counsel you have given to one without wisdom!
What helpful insight you have abundantly provided!
To whom have you uttered words?
And whose spirit was expressed through you?
Job 26:1-4

It amazes me how people think they are being helpful when in reality they are just doing harm.

legalism vs discipline

Legalism, is essentially placing too much emphasis on the law, codes of conduct, rules & regulations. Often this leads to pride, superficiality, absence of mercy, and a lack of emphasis on God's grace. The letter of the law is highly esteemed instead of the spirit of the law. Legalism claims that obedience to the law is the way to salvation instead of believing that God's grace and the shedding of Christ's blood redeems us.

We should never seek to read the Bible or pray to God with the motivation that we will be more spiritual than the next person. Too often, we compare ourselves with one another and convince ourselves that certain activities will raise us to a higher level of spirituality. We must banish those thoughts from our mind and cling to the desire to know and love God above all else.

On the other hand, there are times in our spiritual walk that we find ourselves without that desire. We find ourselves complacent and lacking in the want to. There are times in which we must choose to be disciplined. We must choose to seek God even though the feelings of "want-to" may not exist. However the motivation is similar, the desire to know God instead of the desire to be seen as better than others.

A spiritual discipline is considered a practice which helps to cultivate spirituality. There are many spiritual disciplines: fasting, silence, solitude, prayer, meditation, and the list goes on.

I guess it all comes back to the position of the heart and the motivation behind the action. We can go back to the idea of the Do To Be Tree and understand that the motivation was to "be" something as a result of the action a person took. God wants us to take action because we already are; we are His children and that alone should motivate us to desire or discipline. But the fact that we are God's children should never lead us to legalism.

do to be tree

The ideas brought up yesterday at church are still rolling around in my head. So this morning, I started my day by reading some of the notes and verses presented yesterday.

The conversation between Eve and Satan in Genesis was one of blatant lies as well as twisting of words.

God had given them freedom of what to eat with the exception of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. The consequence of eating from that particular tree, "you shall surely die." (Gen 3:16-17) But when Satan began to question Eve, he focused on the restrictions instead of the freedom. "You shall not eat from any tree of the garden?" He had already begun to twist things to bring the focus on the restrictions and rules. (Gen 3: 1)

Eve was evidently confused at the point in which she responded with the explanation that they could not only not eat the fruit from that particular tree, but also they could not touch it. Where did she get that from? Was that something Adam had told her to keep her away from it altogether?

Satan blatantly lies, saying "You shall surely not die!" He explains that "her eyes will be opened and she will be like God, knowing good and evil." The latter statement had some truth in it since even God stated that Adam and Eve had become "like us" in Genesis 3:22.

These last words of Satan have a deeper meaning. He speaks of eating the fruit, as a means of achieving a state of being. "When you eat from it (DO), you will BE like God." He suggests an action on Eve's part, that by her doing something, she will achieve a particular state of being. DO in order to BE.

This is completely opposite of the gospel. The Bible teaches us that Christ paid the price to make us clean and whole. The action, the doing, has been done and not by us but by Christ. We are to receive what has been done and walk in that. There is nothing we can "do" in order to be more righteous or more whole in God's eyes.

The DO to BE tree existed in the Garden of Eden so many years ago. But, in reality it exists even today. How many things do we choose to DO thinking that they will help us achieve a certain state of being? that by doing, we will obtain more favor? That by doing we will be something more than we are in God's eyes?

Is your doing a product of who you are or are doing to become something you're not?

death & grieving

When I mentioned that at the memorial service of their father, my friend and her brother made those in attendance laugh; my Peruvian friend found that strange. "I suppose we Peruvians are mas emocionales." I realized there are several differences between death in the different countries.

In Peru, the funeral and burial is almost immediate, within 24 hours typically. In years past, the chemicals were not available to inject dead bodies for the duration of funeral planning that I have seen in the US. In Peru, it was a quick service and quick burial to prevent the spread of disease. I have heard of stories in which those that came to do autopsies were asked to write false dates and times in order to give friends and family time to arrive. Although the burial may be rapid, transportation is not!

Grief and mourning seem to be different. There are times when I think Peruvians do not show very much emotion. I remember asking if my friend cried at his brother's funeral. I guess I just do not see emotion among Peruvian men. Ever. So, naturally one would wonder if that emotion would be released upon news of a death.

But then here's the catch, I think as Americans we seem to be much more deeply affected by death. Someone may die in our lives and we always go back to it. We talk about it and how it changed and affected us. Peruvians seem to know death is simply part of life. Maybe Americans think that their power extends to immortality too?

Anyway, back to my friend and her brother and their memorial service humor. They shared about their father and told the tales of their lives. Their father was a funny man and that came out in each and every one of the stories. Those that had come to pay their respects remembered their father in a similar way and enjoyed a trip down memory lane. There was no disrespect, of course they will miss him, of course they are sad. But for a brief time, they chose to remember the great things about their father.

Grief is an interesting thing and it makes us do interesting things. I like the custom we tend to have that we bring tales and stories which help people remember those that have passed in the most positive way. We walked away from saying goodbye with tears in our eyes and a smile on our lips.

sunday morning

This mornings sermon was all about legalism. Unfortunately it hits close to home for me after living in Peru and even dealing with some American churches.

All too often, we lose the perspective of the Biblical standards and begin to create our own standards. I really liked the explanation that the pastor gave of that this morning. Legalism comes from UNBELIEF. As in, one does not trust God enough, so one creates rules to not need to trust God. Interesting and I think, all too true.

When we remember that there really is nothing we can do to earn God's favor and no rules we can place on others to measure them up as spiritual or not, it does sort of bring things back to Christ living through us. You know, the whole point of Christianity?

Something hit me though, churches are defined by their rules and regulations. Denominations are defined by the way they do things or the things they find acceptable or not acceptable. Christians are known or are supposed to be known by their love for one another and their love for God. Unfortunately many Christians are instead known by their own personal rules & regulations or those they enforce with the people around them. Infrequently do we truly find people that serve Christ and others because that is what truly springs from their heart. What are you defined by? Are you defined by Christ or by the rules you claim to follow?

Anyway, there are some things I want to touch on further, such as the difference between legalism & discipline; the Do-To-Be Tree; Jesus + something = idolatry; legalism as I have seen it in Peru & the US. Those are all for a later time.

landed

What can I say? I have landed but am not home. I have arrived but am not really here. My heart and mind are in another place while my body is here on American soil. So many things run through my mind, so many emotions run through my heart. Again, I need to start writing them down, for I fear no one else can understand me.

smoker

Cigarette smoke makes me ill. Gives me allergies to be exact. You know, I think as a child I was on antibiotics for a whole year because of smoke allergies. Thanks to my grandmother and campfires, I was all medicined up month after month. Mmmm...gotta love those antibiotics. Anti-health is more like it.

Oh, anyways, the cigarettes. So I was riding back tonight on the bus from the water park. A young guy got on and sat down near the front. Puff. The smoke filled the air and blew out because of the open windows. I thought the best. He must of gotten on the bus and taken the last puff of his cigarette before getting on. The puff was just what was leftover. Benefit of the doubt, right?

Puff. Another one? That surely meant he had a cigarette in his hand. On the bus. Didn't anyone tell him it was prohibited to smoke in public places? Someone had a cigarette right behind me at the game the other night. Yuck! I kept turning around and coughing, hating the smoke that was being blown my way. Less than a few days and I felt like I was in the same situation again.

I had to think for a moment that in all of six years, I had never run across a situation like this. No one had ever gotten on a bus and smoked. No cigarette smoking bus riders. Not one. I guess for that I can be glad. Right?

Well, anyways, back to the bus tonight. The lady in the seat behind him asked him loudly and clearly to put his cigarette out. No response. Nothing. No words. No look. No nothing. No response. He told the cobradora that he wanted off at the next paradero. No excuse me, I'm sorry. Nothing.

So he got off at the next stop. He didn't look upset. Not ashamed. Nothing. Weird.

the bank

So, I went with a friend to open a bank account today. He had never had one and really his only knowledge of them stemmed back to a time when the president allowed the economy to get so bad that anything anyone put in the bank, they wound up losing. All your savings, lost.

Reminds me of the Peruvian who spent years and years in the US working to provide for his family. After more than 10 years, he traveled with cash. Cash in hand of thousands and thousands of dollars. He was stopped in an airport in Florida. The money was taken from him and he was charged on suspicion of drug trafficking or mafia connections of sorts. Everything he had saved, lost on his way home.

Or the couple here in Lima who saved and saved and saved their money in order to retire and have provisions. The money was all stored in a small box in the headboard of their bed. Thousands and thousands of soles. Everything they would live off of in their golden years. Gone in an afternoon.

I cannot speak to the wisdom of traveling with that much cash or saving that much cash in a box when I know the reality of the fear of saving in a bank that Peruvians have. It is sad, to be truthful. They are fearful of what them may lose and their security revolves around what they can hold onto.

So at the bank today, the papers were signed. The account was opened. And then I began to hear the story of how him mom had lost everything when he was a child. She had saved her money in a bank account and one day, because of the spiraling economy, she had nothing left.

The president who was in power at that time has returned to lead Peru. Personally, I know he is doing great things trying to advance Peru. But, because of others fears, there are still doubts in my mind. If you run the risk of losing it all, is it better to save your money in a box rather than the bank?

frenzy

So, the packing is coming along. There are moments in which I feel as though there are a lot of bags and moments when I feel as though everything will fit in just a few bags. I have packed a few bags only to realize that repacking in a different suitcase would be strategic. So, the packing saga continues.

I was able to collect my passport yesterday which was highly advantageous since now I can go and close one of my bank accounts here. If it is not one thing, it is another.

I have to go a drop bags off to kindly ship to the mountains. Bags of donations of clothes, scarves, etc. And another bag to the jungle. I do still have some things left to buy, namely at the grocery store.

This evening though, I am headed to a fountain park! According to Guinness Records, it is the largest fountain park in the world. I am super excited about that!

Oh, and one other note, I HATE cockroaches!!!!!!!

Oh, but on a good note...it rained yesterday in the evening. And then rained last night during the night. I enjoy the rain, awake or asleep and am so glad to have seen it here just a few days before leaving.

That's all for now. Maybe more later.

hurting

This morning, I was contemplating the honesty of stating that I am not doing well. Emotionally and spiritually, I am empty. Not just at zero empty, but like in the red empty. Less than zero empty. I am hurting. Someone prayed for me yesterday that the resentment and bitterness that have taken root would be removed. Already taken root.

I guess what I began to contemplate was that if I had a physical problem, things may be different. It would be easier to say, "I have _____ and am returning to the states to get well." No one would think that was bad, no one would really question it. But instead, things have not been easy here. I have seen and heard things that have been hard, that have caused a lot of mistrust in me, a lot of hurt in me. And instead of saying, come home, we want to help...the very ones that "sent" me seem to have turned their back.

So, somehow you realize that physical pain is so much more acceptable than emotional pain. And if I am emotionally hurting, somehow people see me as "less than." I wish that were different.

If I could help churches and church leaders understand something, it would be that when a missionary returns from the field wounded, that does NOT make them disposable. Don't turn your back. Don't turn your face. Look them in the eyes and say that you will be there for them. And mean it.

Unfortunately, I have watch too many be hurt not just on the mission field, but at times more so when they return. Why is that? Why would people send missionaries out to serve, evangelize, disciple, etc and then when they return act as though they are the enemy?

Anyway, my heart hurts for myself and many others who desire or desired to return to open arms only to find a closed door.

black packets

It was like a scene out of a movie. We were standing in a bad part of town, after the game waiting for the bus. The police populated every corner, but were occupied with things other than the safety of the people, like giving out directions when we asked.

Two older gentleman were walking towards us, but not necessarily together. A younger man, light skin came up behind them. There was something in his eyes that struck me - an insatiable hunger? That he didn't belong there? Desperation? Whatever it was, I had that sense that something wasn't right with him or with what he was about to do. Not that I knew what it was.

The Gringo called out to one of the gentleman. I cannot recall what he said. Gentleman #1 turned to Gentleman #2 and said something. They both stopped. The Gringo caught up. They sort of huddled. Gentleman #2 pulled something out of a bag or his pocket, I don't remember. They were square, black, flat packets, let's say the size of a wallet. No, smaller. Gentleman #2 handed a packet to the Gringo and to Gentleman #1 (I think).

The Gringo didn't look any happier. He was still desperate. He quickly turned away and walked back where he came from. The two gentleman spoke a few words to one another. A taxi was hailed. They both got in, one in the passenger seat and one in the back.

Normal would have been them both riding in back. But nothing was normal about what had just happened.

What do you think was in those packets?

peru vs. paraguay

Last night, I went to see the Peru-Paraguay soccer game. It was a friendly game, so to speak, since there was nothing on the line for the win. Does that make players relax and play better or relax and play worse? No one will ever know with the Peru team since the score was essentially the same as always.

I am always amused by Chemo. He is a cool kid. Hands in his pockets the entire game, never yelling, not even really coaching. But I imagine it is all unleashed in the locker room. Are coaches better when they stay quiet on the field and let it loose in the locker room, or is it better to have them yell from the sidelines and get it all out there?

I suppose the same question could be posed of soccer parents. I have seen a few crazies in my day.

letdown

So, I had plans this evening to go out to dinner with a friend. I had looked forward to the restaurant for the last couple of days. They have *really* good food. I even called this afternoon to be sure it would be open at that hour.

But after a few hours of conversation, which was all fun and lively, she declined. I understood, I was tired as well and I knew that home for her was the other side of town.

However, I am hungry. And bummed. Anyone want to go with me to an incredible steak dinner? Right now?

as the day dawns

So, last night as I am trying to sleep I was awakened by a visitor. Something had bit me on my arms and back but left me scratching like crazy. I turned the light on trying to figure out what had happened. I saw a mosquito on the wall, but wasn't quick enough to kill it.

I couldn't help but wonder...don't I live in Lima? Isn't it the desert? Why are mosquitos invading my room? I felt like I was back in the jungle. At least in the morning, the itching sting was gone.

But, because I was tense all night I have a horrible crick in my neck/upper back. Not fun. Haven't taken anything except coffee for that but I may need something stronger.

Speaking of coffee, while I was trying to make it this morning I looked down and laying on its back by my (empty) trash can was a 4cm long cockroach. I have been fighting them like mad in my kitchen (thanks to my neighbors!) and didn't see many yesterday. So this mornings find was quite disturbing. It was belly up probably from the poison but rest assured I used my Raid on it as well. Can't be too careful when it comes to giant cockroaches.

Today I need to get more errands done and then people are coming over to buy some things and go out to dinner. That is the funny thing, I put my for sale list out to the world and truthfully feel bothered when the "world" wants to come by to look at my things. Is that strange? I wish garage sales were big here, it would be easier to take everything to the street and sell it there. I think I feel awkward coordinating a time and having strangers visit me. Hmmm...maybe the sale ads were not such a good ides after all?

More later.

more work for me

So there is an interesting difference of things I would like to share. It has to do with service related things. Here I am, trying to cancel all my services - phone, internet, cable, etc and it seems like I have to do a lot of work to get them to cancel and give me a final bill. I have to follow up with phone calls and check to be sure things were accomplished.

Case in point, today I called to ask the cable company what my final bill would be. I have the last month but was under the understanding that they were going to bill me for the first couple of days of February. When I call I learn that the line I asked to be cut on Jan 26th was never done. So the guy tells me that in fact he will have someone cut it but that he cannot give me a final billing amount until it is cut.

So, I call to cancel. They tell me they will. I call to find out the final amount and learn they haven't done what they said they would. What does that mean for me? I have to call again to see if it has been cut, I have to try to get a final bill, and I have to return to the bank to pay whatever that final amount is.

Somehow, more work for me and less for them.

The tricky thing is although I canceled and got a confirmation code, it would not be unusual that they continue to bill me, rack up charges and then later down the road I find out I owe hundreds of dollars. So, the work pays off for me but boy is it frustrating!

I will keep you posted.

Test of Patience

So maybe I haven't been as good at writing as I thought I might be with the start of this New Year. But if you will allow me the pleasure of writing about some of my daily occurrences and happenings, it may help me even if it doesn't you.

Today, my patience was tested. I decided to get a last cut & color here in Peru. I went to the salon I have gone to over the last years. I usually visit twice a year so often I get the lecture of how I should have returned sooner. But, they remember me and I don't usually have to explain myself much. I just tell them what I want and the gal did it without a lot of questions.

Today was different. The same gal wasn't there to do my hair. Gal #2 seemed nice and friendly so I was happy to have her help me. Except once she started, I found her unsure of herself and doing things that I later questioned.

While sitting in the seat, I couldn't help but think how disappointing it is to go to a place where you feel as though you are known and you know them - only to realize it is all different. You have to explain yourself, question things, and most of all, have patience. Gal #2 took twice or three times as long to do what I asked for. She looked for reassurance repeatedly. I had to settle into a place in my heart that I did not grow frustrated but instead understood it was okay to slow down and chat a bit. When I left, I gave her a kiss on the cheek, a normal Peruvian goodbye for a friend, but not super traditional for your hairstylist. I didn't even think about it, I just did.

Now as I write this, I understand the lesson. I will face these same feelings in less than 10 days. I will return to a place I left when I was known and I knew others only to find that I have to exaplin myself, question things and most of all have patience. Hmmm...interesting.