Two Years.

Two years. 104 weeks. 730 days.

It's been two years since I first stepped on a plane to Honduras. Actually, that's not true. It's been two years since I've stepped on a plane to Honduras with the intention of moving there.

As I think back to myself at this time, two years ago, I can't even believe all of the changes that have taken places. All of the people I have met, all of the things I have experienced. All of the ways I've fallen in love.

Two years ago, I had no idea my world was about to be rocked in the most challenging, most rewarding ways possible.

Two years ago, I was scared. Scared I wasn't going to make friends. Scared I couldn't hack it as a teacher. Scared of speaking Spanish. Just plain scared.

Two years ago, I was excited. Excited to be setting out on a new journey all on my own. Excited to finally be a teacher after so many years dreaming about it. Excited to be returning to a country I had fallen in love with four years earlier.

Two years ago, I was devastated. Devastated to be leaving my family and friends. Devastated to be leaving American soil. Devastated to know I wouldn't see my cat or eat Taco Bell again until Christmas.

Two years ago, I was at peace. At peace with picking up and moving a couple thousand miles to a place where I knew no one.

There's so much that I know now that I wish I knew then. So many things I wish I could tell myself, two years ago. In honor of taking the leap two years ago-- a letter to my younger self.

Dear Caitlin circa 2012,

I know you. I know how you feel right now. I know you're staring out the airplane window mindlessly watching the clouds pass because anything else seems too overwhelming. I know you're walking through the airport desperately wanting to call your mom and hear her voice one more time from American soil. I know that at the same time you're wanting to be independent and do this without crying. I know that you're sitting at your gate silently debating whether or not you want to talk to the old lady next to you who keeps shooting you compassionate looks as tears roll down your cheeks. I know you're initially irritated with the seven year old chatterbox next to you on the plane because you just wanted one more cry in peace, but I also know that you've realized you haven't thought about how scared you are in the three hours you've been talking with him. Trust me, I know. I've been there.

What you're doing is about to change your life. It's going to be hard, it's going to be messy. And I know you don't believe me now, but you'll be crying harder than you are at this moment when you have to say goodbye to Honduras in just two short years.

Over the next two years, you will cry-- a lot. You'll miss home. You'll be ready to leave on the next plane. You'll lose friends. You'll miss events at home and hurt people who are close to you. You'll be given a class who pushes you, who defies anything you've ever learned. You'll be asked to do things that you think are completely ridiculous. You'll work hard and not be praised. Your values will be tested and you'll have to stand up for yourself. You'll be exhausted. You'll be mad at God. You'll get sick and not know why. You'll miss how convenient everything is in the States. You'll dig in your heels and resist falling in love with Honduras.

But guess what. You will anyways.

When you leave Honduras for the final time, you will be closer to God than you ever have been, you will have built deep and lasting friendships, you will be well on your way to becoming an incredible teacher, you'll have changed students' lives, and yes, you will have fallen in love with a country and a culture vastly different from the one in which you grew up.

It's not going to be easy. The most worthwhile things in life rarely are. Enjoy every day, every moment, you are given. Accept every hug that's given to you and try every food at least once. Never say no to a new opportunity. Step out of your comfort zone-- some of your best friends are waiting to meet you. Ask for help when you need it. Call home. Spend time with your students-- they're the reason you're there. Make mistakes. Understand you aren't perfect. Take a deep breath. Laugh. Watch the sunsets. Trust God. Pray.

It will all be okay.

How do I know?

I lived it.

Repatriating

As I've learned more and more about myself throughout my time in Honduras, I've found myself using words to describe me that I would have NEVER expected. Missionary. Introverted. Bilingual. Expat. While they've each had their own fair share of difficulties, I find myself focusing more and more on the "expat" part of me.

An article called "Leaving Well: 10 Tips for Repatriating with Dignity" popped up on my Facebook NewsFeed the other week and was soon followed by "Landing Well: 10 More Tips for Repatriating with Dignity" and "Staying Well: 10 Tips for Expats Who are Left Behind".

I knew that I would immediately understand the Leaving Well and Landing Well articles. And I did. So well that I cried. Both times. But I hadn't expected to understand the "Staying Well" article at all. I'm leaving Honduras, I'm NOT the one staying behind. So how did that article make me cry as well?

While the past month has been full of me trying to leave well and preparing to land well, I also had to say good-bye to Cristian. Although I'm not experiencing staying well for long, it has been a huge shock to my system. A huge change that I couldn't have prepared myself for, no matter how hard I tried.

I really loved "Tip #2: Flip the Manual Override Switch" because I watched it happen between Cristian and I. We fought more in his last week in Honduras than we ever had over the past two years. Everything caused a fight. A simple phone call to make dinner plans always ended up in one of us shouting nasty things at the other and hanging up the phone. Me getting out of the car from said dinner always included slamming of the car door and sarcastically yelling "BYE!!" We both knew it was happening, but neither one of us were capable of making it stop. So, a few days later, when I read how to Stay Well and saw this "When your departing bestie makes up a reason to be mad at you so it won't hurt so bad to say goodbye. Give her some grace.", I knew what was happening.

Saying good-bye wouldn't hurt as bad if we didn't care as much. It was easier to pick fights and be mad at each other than to acknowledge the fact that there were some big changes up ahead.

I'd expected to deal with the hardships of leaving and landing, I hadn't expected the hardships of staying. One of the biggest hardships might have been preparing to leave well without my biggest support system.

All of Leaving Well hit a little too close to home, but, as with Staying Well, there was one tip that has been the most comfort to me in these uncomfortable times.

Tip #7: Don't Fret the Tears or Lack Thereof
Know what's really common as you pack up to shift every piece of your life to a different part of the planet and say good-bye to people and places you have grown to love deeply? Emotion. Know what else is common? Lack of emotion. Strange, I know, but people are different. Crying makes sense. There is plenty to cry about. However, wanting to cry and not being able to is every bit as normal. Maybe it's because you've already cried yourself out. Maybe it's because the hard part for you was the process of deciding to leave and you spent all your emotion there. Maybe you just can't wait to get out. Whatever the reason-- don't feel guilty for weeping like a baby... or for not.

And while there have been moments/ hours/ days where I have been found weeping like a baby, there are an equal number of highly emotional moments/ hours/ days where I have not been weeping like a baby. Not because I don't feel like crying, but because I physically can't cry anymore. If I was able to, I can guarantee that I would've had tears rolling down my face 24/7 from the time school let out until now. It doesn't mean that I don't feel sadness though. Oh, I feel it. I feel it every second of every day.

Staying Well and Leaving Well have been part of my every day routine. Every day I need to remind myself to give a little more grace that I would normally show and every day I have to ask for more grace from those closest to me. All of this is preparing me for next weekend-- Landing Well.

Landing Well is something I have never done well. NEVER. I typically spend days holed up in my room alone crying about how I miss my friends and baleadas and my moped and my mosquito infected house and nights on Facebook chatting with my roommates. This continues the entire time I am home until I return to Honduras and proceed to miss everything and everyone in the States. To say that I'm dreading this process would be an understatement.

But Tip #6 of Staying Well says 'It's OK to Love Two Places'.
"Man, I don't know how you lived over there. I bet you're glad to be home." I think this (frequently shared) statement can be more internally conflicting and frankly hard to respond to than any other. I am so glad to be home, but I was so glad to be there as well. There were some hard parts about living there, but there are some parts of living here, too. There were lots of days "over there" that I missed home, but there are days here when I feel something remarkably similar. Loving where you lived as an expat doesn't mean you love your homeland even the slightest bit less. Don't feel guilty when you feel homesick at home.

And I do. I do love two places at once. From now on, for the rest of my life, I will love two places at once. And there is nothing wrong with that.

The underlying message of Staying Well, Leaving Well, and Landing Well is grace. I need to be giving more grace than I'm used to and I will require more grace than I have in the past. Transitions are HARD, leaving is HARD. But it's also hard for the family and friends who I continually leave behind and who are hurt because I miss my friends in Honduras who I saw last week, but haven't seen them in six months.

Grace.

Grace.

Grace.

Staying Well, Leaving Well, Landing Well. Here we go.

When In Brazil, Do As The Brazilians Do.

After teaching today we all decided that we absolutely could not waste another day of sunshine and headed to the beach. We're practically locals at Copacabana (HA!) and we have all heard so many awesome things about Ipanema, so we decided to head on over there. We haven't exactly figured out when is the best time to take a taxi somewhere as there ALWAYS seems to be a lot of traffic, so our ride seemed to take forever, but we finally made it there.

Seriously, culture difference. The girls' bathing suit bottoms are practically thongs and the guys' bathing suits are Speedos. Claire and I were saying that no matter how dark we get, we'll always stand out as tourists because our bathing suit bottoms will cover our butts. So we're either Americans or Brazilian men. Awesome.

PDA is also EVERYWHERE! On the street. On the beach. Seriously, no boundaries.

We stayed for a couple of hours and were able to catch some of the sunset. Amazing-- loved it!

Sunset at Ipanema.

At the Copa, Copacabana

After lunch we were all sitting around when we realized that we HAD to get out of the apartment and we saw that the sun was shining. That could only mean one thing-- we were headed to the beach. We grabbed our things, hailed a cab, and set off for Copacabana.

When we got there we just walked around with big silly grins on our faces because we were all so stinkin' happy to be at the beach with soft sand beneath our feet, warm sun beating down on us, and giant waves crashing in front of us. We wandered around for a little bit taking pictures and just enjoying the sunshine.

We walked on up towards the road and wandered down the sidewalk a little ways. We happened across a vendor stand/hut that was selling coconut waters straight out the coconut and knew that we absolutely had to get one for each of us. For 4 reis a piece-- that was a bargain we couldn't pass up.

Brittany, Amanda, Claire and I with our coconuts

While sitting there enjoying our refeshing tropical drinks, we had a ton of vendors coming up to us trying to sell us things. One man was selling henna tattoos, but the only examples he had were of bulldogs and kittens. I like kittens, but come on, really? Another man was really friendly! He told us all about this tour company that would take us places in Rio, but then started telling us about how he learned English because he lived in New York City and now his son lives there and stuff like that. The only other guy that sticks out in my mind was trying to read our fortunes on tarrot cards. At first he asked if we spoke Portuguese and then asked if we spoke Spanish. Claire told him that I do, in fact, speak Spanish, so he had a whole conversation with me. I got really nervous and my face turned bright red, but I did it! I had a full conversation with this strange man in Spanish which is a language I haven't spoken in almost two years. Frankly, I was quite proud of myself.

The awesome sidewalk that I am in love with.

 After enjoying our coconuts, we wandered the streets of Copacabana for awhile just getting acclimated to a different part of the city before hopping back in a cab back to OLM. We made it back to the apartment and kind of had a hard time believing that on our second full day we had got in a cab TWICE and talked to people in a different language. And ordered food. And talked to vendors. And survived. And didn't get ripped off. Goodness, I even kind of, sort of bartered with a man on the beach.

What a good day.

Welcome to Rio!

What a crazy and amazing past couple of days! Friday afternoon Dad, Joey, and I set off for Detroit around 11am. Upon arrival into the city, we went to visit TJ at the Freedom House before taking him out for lunch. After enjoying some fine Mexican delicacies, we dropped TJ off again and then drove on over to the airport. Amanda, Brittany, and Claire were already all waiting there, so I just had to go get my boarding passes and then we bravely set off through security.

Dad, Joey, and I visiting TJ

We made it to the gate with no problems and just hung out getting to know each other. Finally we boarded the smallest plane I have EVER seen in my entire life. Amanda and I were sitting next to each other with Brittany right behind us and every single person who stepped onto the plane was like "WOW! This is tiny!" I'm not kidding, it was unbelievably tiny. The plane ride to DC was pretty short and we made it over there without any problems. Brittany and I went to grab some dinner before boarding the 9 hour, 9 minute flight to São Paulo. Luckily, the four of us got our seats rearranged so that we were all able to sit next to each other or we would have been pretty lonely.

Back when we were strangers.

We got to São Paulo and sat on the airport for what felt like ages. We just sat around on the plane, hanging out, complaining about how much we wanted to be off the plane already. Finally we took off for Rio de Janeiro and our flight lasted all of... 35 minutes. Which was nothing compared the nine hour flight we just sat through.



Getting through customs and getting our luggage was absolutely no problem-- which is so lucky! Melanie picked us up and brought us back to the apartment. We were here for a New York minute before going out to dinner at Porcão. This restaurant is absolutely incredible. It's located across the bay from the Sugarloaf and had panoramic views of the bay and the mountains. And the food-- oh my gosh! We got some of the food from the buffet which was exponentially better than a Hometown Buffet and then when we went to sit down they kept bringing food, such as vegetables, calamari, shrimp, and french fries, to the table. While we were chowing down on all that, the waiters brought around all different sorts of meat on a stick and then would shave it onto the plate. It was so much food. We were in such a food coma afterwards. Then Melanie drove us around the different beaches and it put all four of us to sleep, so luckily she brought us back home so we could go right to bed.

Our personal alley.

The apartment that we live in is really nice, but definitely an adjustment from the Senior Apartments that I have been living in! We had a hard time adjusting the first night, but it's gotten easier with time.

On Sunday we explored Botafogo on our own. We had our first Christ Statue sighting!! Everyone else was just walking around carrying about their business and all four of us stopped to take pictures. The day that the statue doesn't take our breath away will be a very sad day, for sure. We survived dinner and grocery shopping on our own, without a translator. All in all, it was a pretty calm day on the Brazilian homefront.

This morning we woke up and had various orientations at the school. We met so many people, I can't even remember them all. There's so much information coming at us that I cannot even begin to recall anything when I need to. We had our fingerprints scanned and our pictures taken, so now we're official!

The entrance to our school.

The superintendent, Josh, took us out for lunch at a local buffet. The food here is fantastic, I wish that everyone could eat food as wonderful as this. We don't have much on the agenda for the rest of the day or tomorrow-- fingers crossed for some time at the beach!

Being here in Brazil reminds me of Costa Rica so much!! They both have that whole Latin American feel and it feels so homey and wonderful to me.