Sunday, December 2, 2012

Blooming Where I am Planted



I started writing my blog last night, and I got a few paragraphs in before deciding that it was really bad. My heart simply wasn’t in it.

And so today, the truth is out. I am a mess. Coming home was wonderful and leaving was hard, but I guess I am just homesick. I don’t know if my malaise has to do with the holiday season and my being away, or whether it’s that I can’t very easily comfort my daughter through what is a hard time for her, or whether it’s that I can’t talk very easily to Max (nor can I hug him!), nor see my family, or what, but I am having a hard time going to sleep and a hard time staying asleep, and then, of course, a hard time waking up.

I did have a pleasant surprise today, although it made me cry. On the campus, some of the nationals are attending a three-week management seminar. This is a great idea, because these people will someday be leaders in this country, and they can use all the help they can get. Well, one of these future leaders is my very own Hasat! I found out that he had come in, and I went to the classroom to drop off his ticket to an English test. I saw him, and I ran over and probably embarrassed him to death. I put my head on top of his head and hugged him, and then quickly left. It was only AFTER I left that I thought that might not be such a good thing – on many levels! But I don’t really care. After I walked out of the room, I started crying, recognizing, perhaps for the first time that I, as I said, am a mess.

After the class session was over this afternoon, he came to my office and he hugged me! We will be catching up over the next three weeks, and I am looking forward to helping him study for his English test. He said that his wife and son might come to Kabul to see him for part of the time he is here; his father-in-law lives here, so his family can have a place to stay.

Seeing him made me realize how long it has been since I was permanently on my home turf, and how long it has been that I was in Herat, being protected by Huge and Ferocious, talking with Esman and Hasat almost every day. Seeing him (and I swear he looked older!) made me realize that I am here for the time being, and it is both longer and shorter than I expected. Right now, I have been here for what seems like a long time. Tomorrow, however, after I get some sleep, it may seem that I got here yesterday. Regardless, I must keep to my mantra: Today is Sunday.

I went to church tonight, although my Skype connection stinks right now. I think part of it has to do with the fact that by 9 p.m., when I have to “go to church,” everybody and his brother are (is that the right verb? Mother? Cathy?) on Skype or the internet, so I get diluted access. I am trying to fix that by buying a “dongle,” whatever that is, and my friend from Washington, who is really from Somalia and was the first person last summer to pique my interest in Islam, is setting me up tomorrow afternoon with GoogleVoice or something like that. My lack of technogeek is shameful. I have to give myself a break, though. The people who are explaining these things to me are speaking English as a second language, one with a heavy Somalian accent, and one with a heavy Dari accent. Maybe I’m not so bad after all.

Now I am going to make myself talk about Christmas. When I went to church, it hit me all of a sudden that I won’t be there for any of it – the anthems that I love, the decorations that the “church ladies” make so beautiful, the smell of the tree, the hours of baking that I do each year (Max says, fans, that he can put together the poppy seed bread, and I’m sure he will do really well!), the stress I feel with the cantata and Vespers, Christmas morning when we make Irish Mocha (with Bailey’s, of course), and Christmas Eve when we get together with our friends to share a glass of wine. Or two. I have thought that I could steel myself against feeling bad – if I’m not there, it’s not happening – but seeing the church tonight made me realize that I AM there, but not as I would usually be. It’s going to be harder than I thought.

And then I will be seeing Max a mere three or so weeks after that, when we meet in Dubai or somewhere like that. So my Christmas present will be just a little late this year. And then it will be a mere 60 days before I will be able to join everyone at Easter time. That is what I will focus on, and maybe I can get through the next few weeks unscathed. Besides, I have something remarkable to tell you. Do you remember when I told you that the day was cold and rainy – so much for the roses? Well, since that day, the sun has been out, the temperature has been chilly but not frigid during the day, and, you guessed it – the roses are still blooming. The most beautiful one put out a new bud yesterday, and it will bloom tomorrow.

Maybe I can be like the roses in Afghanistan – in Afghanistan, for heaven’s sake! – and continue to bloom even after a bad day.

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