Laugh or Cry? Hehe..

I love how I react differently to things than I would have in the past, now that I've lived in the most chaotic and unorderly place that the world has to offer (dare to challenge me on this?)

There are simply times in life when you just have to laugh, or else you end up in a puddle of tears on the floor. And where's the fun in THAT?

My friend and I are heading north for a trekking expedition, and yesterday we spend a good chunk of our lives getting plane tickets to make this possible. What was supposed to take 30 minutes ended up taking 5 1/2 hours. Story of my life...and anyone else who has ever spend 10 minutes in a third world country.

But while we were in the dirtiest little airline office that you can imagine (in a small way, it looked a bit like what I imagine Hell to look like), I found myself laughing at my surroundings. We'd been waiting for a good 3 hours, and in walks this cowboy straight out of Texas. He resemembled Willie Nelson with a slight haircut and 60 extra pounds. And a beard that would make any male in this country proud. His loud southern accent cut through the silence like a blade, and with one word all eyes were on him. I felt his pain. But stalky Willie took it in stride. Despite the fact that NO ONE could understand his accent, and that he had no photo ID,...AND that there were 50 people ahead of him in line, he managed to get his tickets and out of there in 10 minutes. Hats off to you cowboy...grrrrr. The girl sitting beside me loved American culture, so at least this sparked a converstation of whether or not cowboys STILL exist. I assured her they did, except that these days cowboys have to add gas prices to their other concerns.

Even the typical South Asian stare was making me laugh. That dead on stare, like there's no life flowing through the veins...just shock at the sight of a foreigner. I've heard that some people return home and suffer from something called "celebrity complex"--having a hard time not being stared at anymore. I guarantee you, this will not be the case with me! It's utterly ridiculous.

So I'm rambling...I'm actually procastinating in my packing. We'll be embarking on a week long trek of one of the most beautiful mountains this country has to offer...meeting people along the way. I'm SO excited. I've been planning and hoping for this opportunity my entire stay here, and God was so faithful to open the door unexpectantly. One lady told me that last time she did this trek, she couldn't walk for a week and all of her toenails fell off.

Bring it.

Don't Let Me Come Home A Stranger

lyrics by Fernando Ortega

Will there come a time when the memories fade
and pass on with the long long years
When the ties no longer bind
Lord, save me from this darkest fear

Don't let me come home a stranger
I couldn't stand to be a stranger
Lord, save me from this darkest fear
Don't let me come home a stranger

There are times when this fear is very real. When I think about coming home, I'm filled with mixed emotions...mostly positive. But then I dread the feelings of having this incredible experience that I won't have the ability to express to people the way I so wish I could. And one of the hardest things of being over here has been missing out on loved ones' experiences back at home. Experiences that have undoubtedly changed them. I do feel like a stranger at times.

But I was talking to my best friend in the world this morning (a.k.a. Miss Leah Lohse...truly one that this world is unworthy of, especially me.) In her wise words, she reassured me that I won't be a stranger, but I will be different. Different because throughout these past two years God has been molding me and ridding me of past junk (a shameful amount, folks...and still plenty left--trust me). But I was once again encouraged, because even though outwardly I truly am wasting away (thanks to this South Asian environment and the lack of beauty products available to make up for it) inwardly I being renewed and shaped and molded...and at times having my spiritual butt kicked. But its worth it.