just another day in paradise

What is it about immersion that causes you to become like your surroundings?

You know, the "when in Rome" syndrome of needing to blend in to your habitat. Go to Mexico for 3 weeks and you start thinking you can speak Spanish like a native. Live in Africa for awhile and you look at everyone around you with disdain for all of the crazy things we do here in America, like everyone driving a car. Hang out with high schoolers as your job and suddenly you're thinking about egging houses and rolling cars all over again.

Being individually unique and all that does not seem so appealing when it feels like you're the only on. Being called to stand out is no fun when you are standing naked on a stage in front of your whole world.

Why does mediocrity scream of appeal and courage diminish with every step we take in that direction?

bea-u-tiful

I wait for snow.

Each winter, especially around Christmas while singing all about it with Bing, I plead with the chilly air and promising skies to throw me a tiny little gift. Just a little snow will do.

And sometimes I wait for years and years and years. Snow days no longer effect me, but knowing someone, somewhere is joyous about 8 extra free hours added to their youth puts me in a glorious mood.

Now in March, I still see all of the effects of Snow Storm 2009. Huge trees uprooted, branches broken, dead flowers and gardens, some revived creeks and streams. Those few inches left their mark.

When the roads and the field were blanketed in snow, it all looked so peaceful. Serene and pure, like our part of the earth had been wiped clean, and we had a chance to do it all over again.

Whether or not you like the cold or desire the snow, it brings a cover of beauty.

But ordinary land cannot take the pressure of that much beauty. Trees crack and break, the ground turns to mush, man made surfaces become death traps.

There is beauty to behold.

And it takes more than an earthly power to hold it in place.

DVR will mess with your mind

Prior to my current situation, I have never really watched a lot of TV. I would (almost) never give up "the Office" (except for Madagascar), but anything else I generally lived without. Call it a result of growing up with only rabbit ears on the roof that need to be adjusted for wind variations.

But these days I have a lot of time on my hands.

My time in front of the glowing box is still relatively small, but a new element has been added to the equation.

DVR (TiVO for some) seems to be a lifeline for some families. No more fighting over which show to watch or "I have to stay up to watch this episode." And no more unwanted commercials: backwards robes, knives, sham wows included.

The trick is, obviously, to start every show you want to watch 20 minutes after it actually begins. Then you can be as commercial free as you desire to be.

But beware. It only works in certain situations; you have to record and maneuver just right. And only on the TV.

If you are in a movie theater and think you may have missed something important, no rewinding for you. If you are stuck in an awkward situation, there will be no fast forwarding. When you are riding along in your car and wish to slow the view down and take it all it, no such luck.

DVR may have the capability to make TV life a little easier. But everything else is just as complicated.

time marches on

Okay, you got me. I am in fact no longer in Madagascar. My time on the island drew to a close. I would like to make it known that I was not voted off. No indeed, I made it until the end.

You might call me a survivor. But I would prefer the term thriver.

So I'm back in the states and looking for a job. I'm not dead set on a career, but maybe developments will happen.

But I am terrible at looking for a job. In every application I send out I either sound really depressed or extremely arrogant. There is no real in between for me.

Goodbye to Madagascar

Friday, December 12

Tomorrow I fly out. I am headed to mainland Africa for a few days, and then homeward bound.

And it is a weird feeling. My time here in Madagascar has felt like 4 months. Not any more or any less. Right now it feels like it is the heart of summer, but somewhere within I know I am in the middle of the Christmas season.

I am still saying my goodbyes. And the more that happen, the more real they all seem. I am actually leaving.

I have loved my time here. Thank you all for you encouragement and prayers. And your love. I love you all back. And I would love to tell you more about this part of my life spent in Africa. Chances are, I will try to find the time to do just that.

But for now, I am signing off.

Would it be too cheesy to say "good night and good luck."?

A day on the town

Thursday, December 11

For the last week or so, I have felt much like a tourist. We have been making an effort to see parts of the city that are particularly interesting, and I have used my camera as much as physically possible. Today was no exception.

Crysti and I decided we would walk up to the Queen's Palace for the 2nd and last time.

We did not know ho we were going, except for being able to see the palace (old and under construction). So we started walking.

And pretty quick we started walking up some rather steep hills. To begin the trek, it was no fun. But it got us up there. And we even got to go inside and see the chapel… and some of the old crown jewels. And the ruins of the school built by the first missionaries to Madagascar.

Our guide even let us take pictures (regardless of signs and notices).

And the goodbyes begin

Saying goodbye is a process. People leave before you are going, but will not return until after. You only have so many days to see all of the people you know and love.

It does not happen all at once. And it dos not happen easily.

But it does happen.

And it brings change.