America with a Pinch of Perspective

WHAM! Back to Reality:
Flying back to the states! We got to ride in air conditioning, with amazingly comfortable seats that reclined! We were given FREE drinks and we were surrounded by luxury. So what did Greg and I do? Why look at sky mall for the first 30 minutes of course, eagerly elbowing each other to show the latest invention we'd missed. When we got to Miami we tortured ourselves for 45 minutes. We walked around to all the food vendors and then back to each again. we couldn't decide what our first American food should be. Also, we kept converting everything to Belizean dollars and there is just no way we were going to pay 40 BZE dollars for a meal. So we split a tuna salad wrap and a carton of milk. I was feeling a little overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle and announcements and golf carts...inside. We found two seats farthest away from anyone and huddled by ourselves scarfing down our food like refugees...mumbling every now and again about how new and big our new world was. Everyone seemed to be in a huge hurry, I saw a very old man get grabbed and shoved by a police man. His offense? Not speaking English at customs. I know a few months ago all this was normal and I would have been running to make sure I got to my gate an hour early just like the rest of them. But we're on Belizean time now, and that's hard to shake.

More buildings than all of Belize

We had a 9 hour layover. What does one do for 9 hours and with no money? Greg and I unapologetically stood in a airport gift shop reading magazines for close to an hour. We walked around, we talked about how we were actually in the states again, and we talked to other people who had been in the Peace Corps (5 total). Finally, our plane to Charlotte began to board. We had a very hilarious flight attendant. While she was giving out drinks she pulled up to our row and instead of saying anything, looks around with a disgusted look on her face. She then looks at me. I (not knowing what to do) make the same disgusted face back and also look around. Does she smell something, is she appalled at the Euro boys behind us who have wedged their stinky feet through our arm rest in their sleep? I don't know. This went on for quite some time, until abruptly she said, "Care for a drink?" I quickly ordered my milk as she resumed her strange face scanning the people around me with aquisitory glances. Was she trying to remember who ordered the Peanut M&Ms? Did she misplace a valuable and now we were all suspects? Who knows. I was left amazed that I could still be awkward in America. I mistakenly thought after all the strange situations I'd encountered in Belize that I would some how be immune to them here...you know since we all speak English (and I am no longer the only giant white girl). Apparently you can take the giant white gyal out of Belize but you can't take the awkward out of the gyal. So, back to the stewardess...as we're taxiing to the terminal she gets on the intercom, "Stairs." she says. The passengers start to look around and she continues, "Stairs, stairs, I am sorry but you will have to use stairs to exit this plane, so sorry ladies and gentleman." I like her.

We are welcomed by a very awake and happy mummy and sister (even though it was close to 1 in the morning) and we went to my sister's new place where we ate fresh apple pie and had a glass of milk... ahhhh the America of my dreams.

Fresh apple pie!

The real deal...portions out the window this is what I call a breakfast!

My Job After Peace Corps?

On the way to Cary to spend Easter with my In-laws and my nephew I heard an interesting thing on NPR. There is a non profit named, 'Playworks' that goes out to schools and teaches kids the basics of childhood games. Apparently kids are no longer fluent in the 'forgotten language' of play. This struck a cord for me because as a first grade assistant it was part of my job to do 'teacher led play' for the first 15 minutes of their 30 minute recess. I took this job seriously making a note card role-a-dex with a pipe cleaner and after I wrote down the 10 or so games we used to play in the cul-de-sac (capture the flag, spud, 500, freeze tag, kick the can, pickle, etc) I found myself researching other play ground games in my free time. I had been appalled through my years teaching and assisting at the general absence of play knowledge and when the county said we had to do teacher led games I said, "OKAY!". The kids (much to my surprise) loved playing the games, and would often complain when I would freeze and scream 'FREEEEEEEE.' I knew exactly what this lady was talking about.

Kids today don't know how to make up rules, how to self elect 'leaders' and self police. We weren't born knowing how to do this. It took every summer since we could walk. It took us getting our feelings hurt, knees scraped, and the occasional goose egg (like when I learned the hard way not to stand too close to the batter). We learned that too many rules were no fun but that no rules were even more no fun. Perhaps that's why Belize suits me well. The kids speak that forgotten language,which is fitting since they also speak the almost forgotten language of Ketchi. I am in love with a dying way of life. I spend a lot of time worrying who my hippie children will play in the streets with. Perhaps I'll just have 15 so they can all play together?

Sorry it's sideways...but this was some of the gang from the old days (I'm second from the left)

Easter Time!

After almost 8 months I finally got to see the little person who was the reason for this whole trip home...HUNTER GREGORY!!! Boy my nephew is super cute. Uncle Bob and Aunt Camille even surprised us by coming down all the way from New Jersey. Uncle Rich came from Florida and Kristen and Huntee from California...it was kind of a big deal.

Greg got a few days with Hunter first and called me continuously to tell me what a cute nephew we had and, "I know other babies are cute and stuff, but he's really cute!" My torment was soon over and I was finally united with my only nephew...my greatest fear (him hating me) was quickly put to rest and my arms ached from holding him. You see, baby holding and washing at the creek are two totally different muscles.

Uncle Greg and Auntie Kev!

We were surrounded by friends and family and ate ungodly amounts. Gorging on meats and doughnuts and delicious home made teramasu cake. Even if I never eat meat after the Peace Corps at least I got to taste my mother-in-laws meat balls. Uncle Bob couldn't believe his eyes and 'forced' me to eat a 5th one just for a picture. The night before Easter we made 'Monster Eggs' a variation on Easter that was developed during our deployment. Greg and I stood together silently holding our eggs in mugs of colored water. Behold Kristen, Greg, and I's creation:

Can't handle the holiday stress.

I did work on Peace Corps Goal 3: Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans. I taught Aunt Camille how to make flour tortillas. She was a natural, they came out round and evenly thick. I was impressed. We ate them with a variety of spreads and I left them with a cumal and a quickly scribbled recipe which sounded like, "add water until it feels like play dough..then add just a little more."

Aunt Camille...secretly part Mayan

Sweet Beach...Wilmington How I missed Thee:

The Wrights...8 years I've known these guys!

We were able to meet up with our friends still living in Wilmington and a few from out of town. Our friend Steve new some genius guys who bought a limo with karaoke and started a taxi business. It was like we were right back in Belize, belting out 80's classics.

Kaylyssa and Rachael all the way from NY!

Thinking of a way to bring this to Belize...

What is more American than beach volleyball and corn dogs?

What do we eat for our last meal? Tacos and rice and beans...

It was a great visit home. A time of lapping up American amenities and indulging our vises...sweet tea, fries, and pasta. Thank you to everyone who make the trek out to see us. Thanks for all the good food and laughs. Thanks for listening politely to our ridiculous stories.

Mummy seeing us off at 4 in the morning.

Last American treat...Cinnabon