Tag: Diary of an International Transition Page 1 of 2

That’s a Whole Lot of Thoughts

On March 25, 2017

Johnny’s recent airplane picture. I am the pilot (so he tells me).

These are the days my mind is in many places and many times.

Thinking about here: How do I prepare my house to be empty for four months? Buying lots of dog food, going through piles of papers I had put off. How do I make sure our workers get paid? What does the landlord need to know? What clothes can we give away before we leave? Making sure the kids are caught up on vaccinations and doctor’s appointments. How can I use up everything in my pantry?

Kids: Mom, the ketchup is finished!

Me: Too bad. We’re leaving in a week and I am not buying any more ketchup. Eat your eggs plain.

Thinking about life when we return: I will hit the ground running when I come back on August 4th. What can I learn from the current principal before I go? I’ve been shadowing her, asking hundreds of questions, talking to all the current teachers. I am stuffing my brain with schedules and facts and feelings that others are giving me.

Everything will change when we come back. Johnny will be in kindergarten. I will be a working mom. What can I teach my houseworker before I go? What new responsibilities will I ask of her? We cleaned out the kids’ toy room and easily boxed up half of their things to give away. They don’t play with many toys any more, and Johnny will no longer be home. For the first time in 10 years, I won’t have a pre-schooler with me all day. I gave away Candyland and the alphabet practice books. I once yearned for the end of those days, and now that they are here, I am sad.

Thinking about preparations to leave: Getting school materials from all the kids’ teachers so that I can homeschool them for their third term. Writing to churches and scheduling visits for when we are in the States. Working through our home assignment budget with our business manager. Communicating with a friend back at home who will make us a video of our ministry to show to everyone. Buying gifts to take back to friends. Renewing the car insurance. Making an appointment to get the girls’ hair done.

Josiah: I’m really excited about going to America, but I’m also really sad. I’m going to miss my friends.

Welcome to the world of bittersweet emotions, kid. You’re learning it young.

Grace is sad she will miss Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat and her 5th Grade Graduation at HOPAC. Josiah is sad he’ll miss Sports Day and the 5K run. But simultaneously, they both are counting down the days and announce it every evening. They are educating Johnny about Chuck E. Cheese and garage door openers. Last week, we received a package with the Christmas cards from our home church. We reminded the kids, See? You know this person! Do you remember playing with her?

Last week I told the kids to put their shoes on at dinner time because a lightbulb had shattered in the dining room. They all commented on how weird it was to wear shoes at dinner.

Me: In America, a lot of people keep their shoes on in the house. If you visit someone else’s house, you keep on your shoes.

Josiah: REALLY? Like, what if your shoes are all muddy?

Grace: They have these things called sidewalks in America. Your shoes don’t get muddy.

Dad: There is no dirt in America.

Me: There are no cats in America.

*cue family singing while Johnny looks on blankly* I guess we need to show him “An American Tale.”

Thinking about the journey: Of course, this part should have been routine, and then last week America decided that it didn’t want people who are flying through the Middle East to carry their electronics on the plane. So where are we flying through? The Middle East. Thanks, America. My brain didn’t have enough to think about already. Yeah, going back to the Dark Ages of Children-Before-Ipads is one thing, but honestly, making sure our valuable electronics get to the States unbroken and unstolen is a much bigger worry.

Thinking about there: Dreaming about salami and sourdough bread and good yogurt and nectarines. Planning vacations with our families. Emailing with friends who want to see us (one who will travel all the way from Wisconsin!). Anticipating hugs and conversations and nostalgia. Daily adding to my list of things I will need to buy in America.

We are so excited to see all those we love deeply, yet I know acutely that the joy will also be a poignant reminder of the loss. My six-month old niece is now three years old. My own 5-year-old is now eight. There will be the three nephews we have not yet met. Joy, but sorrow, because we can’t get those years back.

It’s funny though, that in spite of all the looming change and mixed emotions and scattered thoughts, there is now something new in my brain: Familiarity. I have done this so many times now that even the craziness seems routine. I can fit my emotions into predictable categories: Yes, I feel this now, but I know it won’t last. I know I will even out. I know it will be okay. I know there will be stress and culture shock and joy and sorrow and frustration, but I know it. None of it surprises me anymore. And there is something deeply comforting about that.

Diary of an International Transition: Days 3, 4, 5

By Amy Medina

On July 24, 2014

In Other

My days have been spent unpacking.

My nights have been spent lying awake, trying to get my body to overcome jetlag.

And that about sums it up.

Both are improving dramatically.

On Monday, we unpacked all the stuff we brought from the States. On Tuesday, we started tackling the garage, where we had stored everything else (except our furniture–the family in our house was using that).

Seriously, the stuff in our garage looked like it had been there 25 years, with the dirt and the lizards and cockroaches and the moths and various droppings from the lizards and the cockroaches. I had forgotten how dirty everything gets here. But thankfully, everything has recovered.

The above picture is our bedroom earlier today, and right now, it’s almost completely put away. Progress!

Here are a few other images from today.

We transformed the garage into the kids’ playroom. I LOVE THIS.

Our landlord had cut down the gigantic, gorgeous trees in our yard right before we arrived. She had been talking about this for a while, since the roots were wreaking havoc, but we were still so sad to see them go. See how lonely that tire swing looks?

I’m not actually sure our dogs remember us.

Spaghetti sauce cooking on the stove; a common site in my kitchen. Tomatoes are plentiful and cheap here, and the canned stuff is expensive. This is about six pounds of tomatoes, cooked down.

This afternoon the vet stopped by (unannounced; he does that from time to time) and told me that I got fat in America. This is a compliment in Tanzania. I did my best to smile and thank him!

Tonight, as I was locking up, I picked up a toy the kids had left on the porch. A giant rhinoceros beetle fell off it and bit my finger and just about gave me a heart attack. Thankfully, it only gave me a bloody finger.

Oh yes, I am home.

This is the end of my Transition Diary….I will move onto other topics now. Thanks for reading along!

Diary of an International Transition: Arrival Day and Day 2

By Amy Medina

On July 21, 2014

In Other

The five hour flight from Dubai to Dar es Salaam seemed really short after the other parts of our trip.

But the contrast between Dubai and Dar is enough to boggle the mind.

Dubai is one of the richest cities in the world, and the airport is practically a small city. It has three terminals, and Terminal 3 is the largest building in the world by floor space and the largest airport terminal in the world. Yeah. Imagine huge glass ceilings and gigantic sparkling pillars and marble floors. And Dubai has only 2 million people.

Dar, on the other hand, has over 5 million people. However, its one and only airport’s arrival terminal consists of two rooms. Two. Rooms. You walk into the immigration room straight off the tarmac, and go from there into the baggage claim/customs room. Our flight had over 200 people on it, so you can imagine that we all got up close and personal in the airport.

Talk about culture shock.

We arrived around 3 pm but didn’t get out of the airport until 4:30. Things go a little slow in there, especially when waiting for 13 pieces of luggage.

Our wonderful friends Ben and Lauren (and Zawadi!) were waiting for us….what a welcome, wonderful sight after so many good-byes and so many hours of travel! They also made us dinner and brought us groceries.

And today was our first full day.

We are back in our previous house, the house Gil and I have lived in the longest since we’ve been married. It is such a huge blessing to come back to a house, and we are so thankful for the family who stayed here while we were gone.

Today we spent our time unpacking, arranging, organizing…you get the idea. We went to the Voda store to get our phones working again, and picked up some groceries.

It’s all very surreal. One part of me feels like we never left, and that somehow last year was a very long, involved dream. Another part of me feels like all of this is very familiar, but not where I belong, and that somehow that was a different person who lived that life in Tanzania.

It’s weird.

Long time habits that I had forgotten about are coming back to me. How to smash the cockroaches in my cabinet. To laugh, not scream, when I pick up my toaster and a gecko runs out. What type of mayonnaise to buy. What sweat feels like. How to convert shillings. Swahili.

They say that when people first move to another country, the first six months are the honeymoon period, when everything is exciting and adventurous. Then they start hating everything for a while. Eventually, they adapt and come to a happy medium in their new life.

I think that in re-entry to a country where you previously lived, you skip the honeymoon and go straight to the hatred. Ugh. The traffic. The insane drivers who seem to have no value on human life or property. The ticks (spent an hour today de-ticking our dog). The cockroaches. And to top it all off, we had no electricity today from 10 am until 7 pm (and no back-up systems currently working). It’s almost as if Tanzania was laughing at me. Oh yeah? You really thought you wanted to live here? What were you thinking?

Thankfully, I’ve done this enough times to know that the “hatred” phase won’t last very long either. I know I will get used to life again soon and maybe even be brave enough to drive in a few days.

You call me out upon the waters

The great unknown where feet may fail

And there I find You in the mystery

In oceans deep

My faith will stand

I didn’t take any pictures today…..a little too overwhelming. But here’s a post from a few years ago with pictures of our house, if you are interested.

Let me walk upon the waters, wherever you would call me.

Diary of an International Transition: Countdown Day 1–Departure Day and Traveling

By Amy Medina

On July 20, 2014

In Life in Tanzania, Third Culture Kids

I woke up at four yesterday morning and couldn’t go back to sleep. Darn it. I was hoping to make it till 6.

I always have trouble eating on Departure Day. I forced down some breakfast.

I bathed all the kids and slathered them—literally—with lotion. The dry air on the plane makes their skin look like the Sahara Desert.

Did one last load of laundry and stuffed the rest into our already bulging luggage. Sealed all the tubs with zip ties.

Forced down a little lunch and packed up our van and my brother’s SUV. Off to San Francisco.

Miraculously, the guy checking us in didn’t even look at the scale. Whew. Huge sigh of relief.

We said good-bye to my family and pushed our weeping children through the security entrance. It never gets easier, but I knew we would be okay once we went through the door. We were, though I still am trying not to think about all we have left behind.

Once we got through security, I was all at once exhausted and ravenously hungry as the adrenaline leaked out of me. We had made it, and only had the plane trip ahead of us.

As we were boarding the plane, there was a table full of complimentary newspapers for the taking. Almost all of them had their full page cover story on the Malaysian airline crash. Um, yeah, I think I’ll skip a newspaper today. You would think those would be good times for the complimentary newspapers to be removed. Or maybe, it just boosts their alcohol sales on-board.

A couple of months ago, we were at Disneyland and Josiah asked me, “Is Disneyland really the happiest place on earth?”

I told him that I thought there were lots of happy places, and gave him some examples.

He thought about this a moment, and then said, “I think the plane is the happiest place.”

I just about doubled over. “Really?” I said. “Why?”

He smiled, “Because I get to watch so many movies.”

Ah ha.

He is right. The plane is the only time the kids are allowed to watch 5 movies in a row. The only time.

The plane is one of my least favorite places on earth. Especially with children. It’s hard enough not to get claustrophobic in a steel tube 30,000 feet above the earth for 20 hours, let alone trying to sleep sitting up and in between, keeping the kids from spilling their meal onto their lap (or mine).

I definitely would not win any Pinterest awards for “creative activities for kids on the plane.” While packing last week, I came across Grace’s math flash cards and contemplated putting them in her carry-on. That
lasted about five seconds until I came to my senses and remembered that we don’t have any cool little parent/child learning moments on the plane in our
family. It’s not about “using our time well.” It’s about survival, and that means 5 movies in a row.

I also am not above using children’s Benadryl. Hey, until you’ve had a non stop, 16 hour flight with your kids, don’t judge.

Obviously, it worked. Look at Lily’s sleeping position of choice. Notice where her head is (on the right) and where her bum is (on the left). Comfy, eh?

We flew over the North Pole (which is pretty cool from 30,000 feet up) and down across Europe (thankfully avoiding Ukraine) and into the Middle East city of Dubai, which is one of the richest cities in the world.

I am writing this from Dubai. We are near the end of a fifteen hour layover. Thankfully, our airline gave us complimentary hotel room and even food vouchers. It’s amazing what a real bed and a shower does for the soul after spending 16 hours in a metal tube.

Soon, we’ll leave for a five-hour trip (which seems positively short right now) to Dar es Salaam. On our way back to the airport from the hotel, Grace reunited with one of her classmates (and family) from HOPAC, also heading back to Dar. Cool!

The adventure continues.

Diary of an International Transition: Countdown 2 Days

By Amy Medina

On July 18, 2014

In Other

My poor little lonely key chain.

You don’t really think about how keys ground you in a sense of belonging until you don’t have them anymore. You have house keys and car keys that give you a sense of place and permanence, and work keys that give you an identity.

When I move overseas, I lose all my keys. They come off one by one until I feel homeless and weightless and identity-less.

It’s not as hard this time, since we have a house and a car waiting for us–that’s never happened before. But as I looked at my empty key chain this afternoon, I couldn’t help but feel….loss. And an uncomfortable sense that I don’t belong anywhere.

So when the walls come falling down on me

And when I’m lost in the current of a raging sea

I have this blessed assurance holding me

All I know is I’m not home yet

This is not where I belong

Take this world and give me Jesus

This is not where I belong

And this is the song that keeps going through my head.

I will have keys again soon, but may I not forget where I really belong.

Today. The day before departure day. What happened today?

Laundry. Errands. Picking up last minute prescriptions, taking back a couple things that just didn’t fit in the luggage, buying vitamins for a Tanzanian friend who I just found out is pregnant.

Printing e-tickets. Calling banks and credit cards to tell them we are traveling, so they won’t flip out and put holds on all our accounts.

Stuffing, stuffing, stuffing more things in the tubs. Weighing them again to make sure they are exactly 49.5 pounds each. Drilling holes around the edges so that we can seal them with zip ties. Labeling all of them with addresses.

Gil did one last Chuck E. Cheese run for our poor beleaguered kids who are struggling with the good-byes and seeing all their toys disappear and all the chaos around them. Josiah couldn’t make himself eat his ice cream tonight. That’s when you know my little buddy is having a hard time.

Grace wrote this in my planner a couple of months ago, as soon as we bought tickets.

Tomorrow is the day. We leave for San Francisco at 1:00, and our plane leaves around 5:00. Sixteen hours non-stop to Dubai (in the middle east), a 15 hour layover, and then 5 more hours to

Dar es Salaam,

Tanzania,

East Africa.

The other side of the world.

I will try to blog from the airport tomorrow, and maybe from Dubai. Otherwise, you’ll hear from me on the other side of the world.

Leaving one home for another, but ultimately, neither is where I really belong. Just give me Jesus.