Ten Months

Sometime during month nine I took a few moments to thoroughly review our funds and was elated to find that we had a bit more money than I had previously thought. Hot damn, I thought, we can stay out longer! I was so excited to inform Jason of this and the next day we reviewed the funds together and I was crushed to find that I had calculated wrong. I cried, not because I realized our funds were finite, but because I hadn’t accepted that we were closer to the end of the trip than to the beginning. I cried because I was scared. A part of me is scared to return to my old self, my old routine, my old ways that weren’t really doing it for me anymore. I cried because I felt like I needed more time to find my next passion. I have this audibly silent expectation that I will spontaneously, delightfully slam into my next career opportunity and that upon my return it will all be easy.

I’m savoring this book, titled “Hungry for Happiness - One Woman's Journey From Fighting Food to Finding Freedom" by Samantha Skelly. I've plagiarized some of her mantras: “to change your life, change your beliefs"; "let it go, release it, and allow it to come back to you with ease." I don’t have an eating disorder, which is the main issue that she discusses, but I relate to a lot of the critical monkey brain scenerious she talks about. This book gives me motivation, strength and insight into how to change some of the things that are not working for me. A couple of thoughts and questions have come up repetitively for me throughout these 10 months. The most recent being: If you knew you could not fail, what would you do? My answers to this question are quick, exhilarating, freeing and smile making. But when I sat with this question and really evaluated my answers I was distraught to honestly say that I am terrified of failure, and against all cognitive thinking, I am terrified of success. I realize that I am more fearful of success than failure. Why is this? I have some theories but I'm keeping those to myself.

As time goes on I am becoming more excited to return home. By the time we arrive in California I will meet four new babies belonging to eight of my most cherished friends. Being part of these kids’ lives is extremely important to me and it makes me excited to go home.

My head itched unquenchably for a week, during month ten. I assumed it was an allergic reaction to shampoo and after searching for lice, and finding nothing, I grew more convinced of this. I soaked my head in lemon juice to help the allergic reaction and this seemed to help. But I continued to itch, so much so that at times I felt like I was going to loose my mind. It was nearly all I could think about. No matter how much I itched I never fully felt relief. Finally, in La Paz we discovered the culprits. I have had the unspoken life goal of dying without ever having lice or bed bugs. I’ve gone on home visits and driven clients with both lice and bed bugs and I have never had either. I believed that if I ever found lice on my own head I would have a panic attack. I would simply become useless, finding myself completely lacking the skills needed to deal with the issue. In reality, I put on my shoes, walked to the pharmacy, bought three packets of lice killing shampoo, three combs and a shower cap. I asked the front desk at the hostel for new linens and washed nearly all of our clothes, ensuring they would be dried, in a hot dryer. I drenched my head, using one packet of the shampoo and waited 20 minutes (doubling the recommended time and thereby possibly burning parts of my scalp) and then began combing. I will spare you the details, but this was a joint effort, lasting several days, requiring a half bottle of conditioner, three lemons, boiling water and several conversations with my older sister and friends who have dealt with these nasty little buggers. Surprisingly, I was so happy to finally have some relief from itching that I just went with it. I didn't have a panic attack and I didn't become a babbling, crying idiot, as I thought I would. Okay, yeah, it’s super gross and I apologize if you are unconsciously scratching your head right now, I do have two extra shampoo packets that I could mail you.

Ten months and I have accomplished yet another dream, to take a Spanish emersion course, in a Spanish speaking country. Day three and I wanted to quit. It’s frustrating, daunting even, learning and knowing how far I am from being able to open my mouth and hear a coherent sentence in a foreign language emerge. Day 4 and I have officially learned more than in two years of high school Spanish. Day six and I know fluency possible, one day. (More on this in the Sucre section of Bolivia).

Ten months and I'm thinking about what my first meal will be, Stateside. It will involve lettuce.