waiting, not knowing, and adapting.

If I were to sum up the entirety of my JV experience in three key points, from applications a year ago up until now, that is what I would say. Waiting, not knowing, and adapting.

(shout out to Father Lawton!)

Waiting. I remember a reflection that one of my CLC leaders gave to us (I think it was Sarah) about waiting. I can't seem to find it again, but the basic sentiment was that we spend most of our time waiting, in between, on the way. And I think this is true. We grow slowly. And it is especially true for a JV. I waited for a long time to hear if I even was offered a placement. Then I waited months for orientation. Then I waited again several months to go to Peru. Once I got here, I've been waiting to get to Andahuaylillas. Not to mention stuff like waiting for the 35 bus, waiting for people, spending lots of time being patient with myself. And then, every so often, all the waiting converges to a single moment when something happens. The exact moment when you leave the country. And now, for me, leaving Tacna for Andahuaylillas. I'm standing on the edge.

Not knowing.  Ahh. First, they said I'd be going to Lima. Then, they changed it to Cusco. And then they changed it to Andahuaylillas. I actually was hesitant to believe Andahuaylillas was the final destination. Then we were told we were going to Tacna for a while, though we didn't know what we could do in Tacna. And even in Andahuaylillas, I don't know much about what I will be doing. I know some things about the parish, that I am working there. But these are mostly ideas, a lot of newness. We dont know our phone number yet, we dont know where to get the mail, where the market is, what is available at the market, how much internet we will have, how to get from town to town. We don't even know how to get our money yet. We shall see what happens.

Adapting. It goes with not knowing, after all. Sudden changes means you have to change as well. You have to be flexible, unattached, always willing to rethink, re-engage, and jump right in. I suppose this will be a huge one in just a few days. Very odd skills like cutting hair, picking locks, and loud whistling have come in handy. It is not just about surviving, it is about thriving. Learning quickly and doing your best. Remembering that you are here to love one another, nothing more, nothing less.

I guess I outline these things because they have been on my heart this week. Yes, I'm on vacation in Tacna, dripping sweat from the hot summer sun, but every day we waited for the call to pack all our stuff and go. Al toque. Ready to move at a moments notice. And I've been living in the tension of this place, Tacna, starting to feel like home, but having to leave to start all over again. There is excitement, yes, in finally being with my Anda community (though I can't really call it mine, but ours), seeing my work site, living in that space, understanding the dramatic difference in culture and lifestyle between Anda and Tacna. But at the same time, I am again leaving my host family, the kids I spent a month with on Mes de Mision, and all the other Peruvians I dare to call my friends. I said goodbye to my host grandparents, and they had tears in their eyes. They told me that their home is always my home as well.

Am I ready? Yes.
Am I excited and eager? Yes.
Will I be sad? Yes.
Will I go where I am called? Yes.

Breathe.

"But I am not going to give every detail. Some things lose their fragrance when opened to the air, and there are stirrings of the sould which cannot be put into words without destroying their delicacy." -Story of a Soul, St. Therese of the Little Flower