El Regreso

I must admit throughout the trip I was arbitrarily considering how my feelings would turn out once it was time to depart this culture I had so heavily probed with all my energy. If I was going to be here for 28 days, by God, I was going to entice every last mystery I could to come my way while there. Oddly enough, the day had come. And my feelings were not left deprived.

I ended classes and had my finals on a Wednesday. Mind you, I had a three hour, essay final-- three hours of nothing but writing. Nothing unusual to expect, however, one hour and half through the exam, I had to pee. I mean PEE. I looked at my professor to ask if I could use the restroom and she tightly pursed her lips and mouthed: "This is a final: Turn in your test or you can't leave." I just about shriveled to pieces when I made sense of her words. Did she not know I had urinary retention problems? Now my professor was one incredible, knowledgeable woman. In this instance though, she impaled me with her merciless demeanor. Waiting sweet precious time for my mind to produce material worthy enough to be written, my bladder pulsated within me. I could think nothing other than I was going to burst. I spent the rest of my exam unenthusiastically moving about throughout the room as I reformed my body into oddly shaped positions to ease my disconfort. I was too stubborn to give in my paper unless it be submitted with the most imppeccable substance worthy to reflect my name. Pride was warring against my body. And Dr. Mccard, nonetheless, was slightly entertained by very own agony. Once I arrived back at the cabins, I had to change my pants. You can decipher whether my bulheadedness or my dear bladder took home the prize of sweet victory.

After finals we were off to Santiago, the capital of Chile, for about a week. I was ecstatic: no work to have to finish, a new city to pioneer, and days of being able to absorb the whereabouts and people I was with. About two weeks into the trip, a countless number of the students on our program were getting sick, very SICK. I saw to it that my education in nursing would somehow authorize me "Captain Nurse" while there, SO I saw it befitting to purchase a load of Vitamin C to boost the immune system and cough suppressants to cease the spread of it all over. Daniela the Duck (my small, yet proficient thermometer) was in action a lot. People were coming down like flies with the colds and fevers. I was grateful to the Lord for his protection at the time so that me and my roomate (also studying to be nurse) could help out. Throughout that whole time, I felt less of a nurse as I did a mother. It was a foreign feeling to me. I immediatley felt the "baby yearnings", and quickly repressed the thoughts. Moreorless, the sickness caught up to me, right when we reached Santiago. More than a trucker getting hit by a 18-wheeler after he had just puked up McDonalads---I had felt worse, and the sinus pressure thickened my head out to feel the size of a balloon. But again, that faithful stubbornness of mine stood rampant. I was still going to go out every night and experience Santiago until my body decided to follow in obedience to my will. And so, I did.

On Sunday I made the wise decision to go up about 11,000 m in elevation to experience skiing in the Andes. Fresh, fluffed snow. People from all over the world. And I had but one goal: ONE time down any of the slopes without falling. Didn't matter which one: JUST one. Sad enough to confess that while weaving down an intermediate slope I saw, no joke, a three-year old, fly passed me. I fell, drastically hard, not out of mistake in direction, but of pure bewilderment of the skill of a child at that age. Unbelievable, I thought. All in all, I had the time of my life there.

My adventures day and night ultimately, and unremittingly, brought on its consequences. On the 10 hour flight back home, I held a four hour conversation with a Chilean woman about Chilean and US politics while intermittently shoving my head between my legs in sheer pain. Not to mention when hearing me cough as I sat down next to her, she unnoticingly brought out her face mask and covered herself. I chuckled, it was a comical in my eyes. But the last hour of the plane ride, I busted it like a baby- tears and tears flooded my face as I sat in misery while I asked God to either make the pressure in my head cease, or let my head fall off. I didn't care which--the pain was unbearable. I am just now beginning to feel a hint of restoration take over my body. Thank you God for your healing touch. Beth, dumb decisions (but undeniably worth the pain).

I can say, though, that the most beautiful aspect of the trip was that what I had anticipated to be the most "exciting" and "thrilling" like the salsaing, the skiiing, the studying of Neruda's poetry, the touring all over the country land, were, nonetheless, exhiliarating activities.

And yet, how could the very blood of my being be so floored at the sweet times of conversations with the maids? When the older maid told me of her husband dying of cancer a few months ago? Or the time when Audrey and I finshed our meals and left, to see a man come by and scrape our nothingness of chicken bones into a bag to savor for later? And what about the bonding of a US sister to another Chilean sister in Christ through the mere playings of a game of soccer? Or the reality of conversation that came to the table when vulnerability consumed the air as atheists and Christians openly discussed?? OR how about being in La Serena for 3 weeks and then coming to find out that an orphanage with 150 precious kids lied approximately 300 yards from where we were staying? And THOSE kids, oh those kids...

I wanted to activate the living words: "For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat; thirsty, and you gave me something to drink; a stranger, and you invited me in; naked, and you clothed me; sick, and you tended to me; I was in prison, and you came to visit me."

The only worthwhile pleasure existed at the deepened, core being of the renewed blood of Jesus. Witnessing and knowing the power of His freedom for His beloved. He has liberated my blood to rage and move in a rhythm for others. I didn't have to go to another country to find that out, God just happened to silently whisper it deep within my soul.

Mi educacion

Wowzers! It's been over two weeks and I have one solo entry to represent my time here. While it's fresh on mind, I will give you an update in words I can try to make sense. First off, my classes supremely exceeded my imagination. I know this is nerdy, but I get a little giddy in the morning because I am excited to be surrounded in this language. We spend--no joke-- 7 hours a day speaking (and in my case, mostly listening) Spanish and engaging in the literature of Pablo Neruda. He is noted as one of the most famous Latin American poets of all time. He is so eloquent in his choice of diction and is an advocate for the life of all people. It is so refreshing to read, study, and be challenged in the spirit through his poems. Also, for class, we get to go the mall and marketplace and converse with people about various issues reagrding the Chilean culture and food. Anchovies are apparently a big hit here, and honestly, I didn't even know what the heck anchovies were in English. Who knew I'd learn English too?

I think the most intense education I've received so far is being in the Chilean culture amidst other Americans who individually vary in culture as well. We are this group of thirty-five people, completely different with diverse backgrounds, congregating together as if we all are submerged under the same "American culture." So much enriching beauty has come forth from our individuality while here.

Sorry so short and brief, but we're about to go to a Chilean techno club!! (Good thing I packed my neon lightstick. :O))

En una semana....

Let me just say- honestly and truly-- this is the first free moment I feel like I have had since I have gotten here to La Serena, Chile. Hopefuly, I will be able to get more time to continue writing in this blog. It has been quite an enchanting week. So, I shall share....

Starting Thursday, July 2, 2009....Our flight got cancelled right before we checked in. We were all thinking "Freakin GREAT." Our professors seemed to be incessantly late, and we looked like a pack of hungry wolves anxiously surrounding the frantic ticket lady . Finally, a flight opened through Dallas that we got that would then take us onto Santiago. Praise God. Awesome flight to Dallas and then we were on our way to Chile before we knew it. On the flight to Chile, I was alone in a seat of three about five minutes before take-off when, suddenly, I thought, in the moment, that my life had turned too surreal for me to still be existing. Onward came this gentle, Chilean man, around 26 years old, with a large collection of soccer patches on his bag (big surprise) and a smile that made my stomach ache it was so delicate. He sat right next to me. I got a little shaky, actually very shaky...overwhelmed and suavely trying to cover my 13 yr-old girlish excitement, shivered and said "So cold in here." Anyhow, details aside, that 10 hour flight was a gift from God. He spoke both perfect Spanish and perfect English, and was the first representative of Chile I had met. Chile--so far---must be awesome.

We then arrived in the airport of Chile. I bought my Visa and proceeded through the baggage claim. They had these cute dogs surrounding the baggage claim to ensure no transference of unclaimed domestic goods into the country. I, consumed by the dogs, squatted down to pet them and give 'em some loving. Long before I knew it, the dog was thrusting his head back and forth into my purse and barking. I was like, "Psycho puppies in Chile take action" until I saw this huge swarm of people wearing red vest stomp their way towards me. The man snatched my purse and said, "Este tuyos?" meaning this yours? I mean, yeah, whose else would it have been? He vigorously opened my purse and carefully pulled out a banana, as if it was the newest nuclear bomb out on the market. A BANANA. A stupid banana. A banana I had bought in the airport in hopes of eating on the plane before I arrived in Chile. So I forgot to eat the banana. And, forgetting to eat the banana, forgot to claim it as well on my entry form to Chile. The woman took her hand and beckoned me to follow her while the people made sure I was walking over to her. I thought, "If this was my penalty for engaging with the dogs, then Chile sucks." I had to sit in this bench outside an office while the woman asked for my paperwork. Then they called my name into the office. My face was red, my neck tense, and eyes squinched. I didn't know what was going on. The man proceeded to tell me that I brought an item into the country that must be claimed, and if it isn't, there is a fine. That word, FINE, irked me. I said, "A fine, how much of a fine? It was a simple mistake." He responded, with an arrogant tilt of his head, "Well, since we haven't had any trouble with you before, it will be 206 American dollars." I stared at him in disbelief. "Really?" Here, my American attitude and piss-poor gentleness was going to come out. I stared at him. He looked back at me. I squinched my eyes harder while his eyes glistened "EXPLOITATION." He said, "Please pay now." I had lost. I was a weakened, taken-advantage-of foreigner, rather, GRINGO. Great. So, that was my entry. Audrey, a girl I had met, stuck with me the entire time through it. I needed her calmness, and let's just say my previous anger management sessions came handy throughout it all. We got on the bus for a seven hour bus ride to La Serena. Needless to say, I acclaimed the beautiful first nickname of the group, "Banana Beth." Well, got to get done that HW and eat. Blessings back in the states, and do, eat some ripe bananas and sweetly enjoy them! :O)

Este es una description sobre mi viaje en Chile para la mesa de julio. In other words, this is my finite attempt to provide, you, those that I love, with an updated description of my experience while abroad in Chile. This will also serve as a preventive measure to eradicate my ever-so familiar description of the trip being a generic "good" once I return. Hopefully, this blog will serve some insight as to my enlightenment regarding the culture, the learning environment, the people I come to know, and the overall experience. I would infinitely appreciate your prayers while here since my sole purpose is to love God and in doing so be his hands and feet to His people. Vamos!