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Pacaya

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Messing Up

It's been a rough day. I am having trouble with an assignment I have been given, and it's causing me a lot of anxiety. And about an hour ago, I went with a client to buy something, and when we returned to the office, it appeared that they had pulled a fast one on us. Needless to say, I felt wretched about it. I asked my supervisor to go back to the store with us to help figure out what went wrong. True, the people at the store are the ones who messed up, but I still feel guilty about it. Maybe more so just embarrassed and afraid that I now look incompetent. Seriously- doing anything in one's second language makes it fifteen billion times more difficult. Not to mention the fact that Guatemala uses this weirdo system for taxes: every time you make a purchase, you have to tell them your N.I.T., which is a government-issed number to track purchases. I, of course, don't have one and so am not accustomed to dealing with it. By neglecting to tell the store IJM's N.I.T. I think it made the situation worse. In the end, we were able to return what we bought, and I guess there is no permanent damage done. But why can't I forgive myself?

Every day, I learn more about how I view myself and from where I draw my self-worth. It seems to be falling to pieces here.

Ironically enough, after the debacle with the purchase/money, I received an email from NBCC, telling me that they have received all of my papers for my certification and that I am now, therefore, a Nationally Certified Counselor! (At least I'm accomplished and competent in the U.S.) I feel this need to prove myself here, but it is difficult because I do not fully understand how things work. I want people here to know how smart, accomplished, educated, and capable I am; and I feel as though I look anything but.

In my mind, I know that my worth comes from the Lord and not from my own competence or accomplishments. But knowing and believing are sure as hell not the same thing.

On second thought...

Well, it turns out I'm not crazy. At least not about the disappeared rent money. It appears as though we were robbed. My roommate realized last night that she is missing a bunch of U.S. dollars from her room. So right now, we are in the midst of changing the lock on our door, and tomorrow we are going to the Ministerio Público to submit a report. (I guess it's like filing a police report back at home.)

This situation is sub-par, to say the least; however, I have seen over and over the grace of the Lord during the past two days...

- We are fortunate enough to work with an incredible team of lawyers and investigators who are so graciously helping us deal with what has happened and to ensure our safety in the future.

- A little while ago, I was chatting with the locksmith (who came over with a co-worker), and he and I had a great little conversation about California and Oregon. He got so excited when I told him that my sister-in-law is from the Bay Area. (Do you capitalize that?)

- Even though I was a little hesitant to leave the apartment unguarded, I had to go out for a few minutes this morning to put some money on my phone; and I ended up having a funny encounter with a gentleman as we, together, frantically searched for a kiosk that had Tigo credit. We laughed together as we scampered across the street after being turned away by two places.

- And I am currently enjoying a delicious plate of homemade guacamole and pico, the ingredients of which cost me about a dollar.

I am so grateful for these small moments of grace. Thanks be to God for His providence and provision!

Face Plant

I feel as though for the past few days I've just been continuously falling on my face. First, my embarrassing outing on Sunday to Pacaya. On Monday, I got so flustered over computer problems that I couldn't hardly focus on making a phone call, and I had to ask someone else to do it. And it appears as though I have either lost our rent money or that someone stole it. - I went to take it to our landlady yesterday morning, and she wasn't there. So I came back to our apartment and left it on a little table by the door, grabbed my stuff, and left for the day. When I returned to the apartment last night, the money was gone! Granted: I am not the best at finding lost items, but I have searched high and low and even gone up to our roof to see if maybe I accidently carried it up there when I went to get my laundry down, and I went through the trash. It is nowhere to be found.

The real issue here is not the occurrences themselves, but rather how I react to them. When something goes wrong, I get serious tunnel vision. On Sunday, I couldn't think of anything besides how mortified I felt and about how people might have been thinking negative things about me. With this money mystery, I haven't been able to stop wracking my brain trying to figure out what happened. (I do have money to repay the rent, but it's still just so weird and mysterious and perhaps a little disconcerting.)

I fully believe that I am naturally inclined to worry and anxiety. My MBTI type is proof of that. But I think that maybe it has become my m.o. in a negative way. I want things to go perfectly, and when they don't, I just can't handle it without having a meltdown of some sort. Or, when I feel that I have messed up or made a bad impression, I can't help but beat myself up over it. It's not a good way to live. Lord, help me change.

Battling my pride on Pacaya

I just returned from Pacaya volcano. It was a real trek, and I am tired. I had read various accounts of the hike and its difficulty; some folks said it was quite easy while others said it was quite strenuous. Either way, it turned out to be too much for me. I am not currently in good shape, and I just couldn't do it. I did make it to the summit, however. There was a group of young boys with our tour group on horseback, and they had been offering rides; so about a quarter of the way up, I caved. Yes, I rode a horse. For the first time in, probably, 15 years.

One other person from our group got on a horse as well, so that allayed some of my embarrassment. But not all of it. The whole time (and even now) I was so worried about what everyone was thinking about me. Thinking that I am a wuss. And out of shape. And even that I shouldn't have gone on the trip to begin with. Maybe no one was thinking these things anyway, but I was overcome with shame and embarrassment nonetheless.

I so often feel the need to be things that I am not. I feel the need to be outgoing, when in actuality I am insanely introverted. I feel the need to be the best at things, but I know that there is often no prize for coming in first. And today I felt the need to prove myself physically, and when I couldn't, I felt the need to provide excuses. But...

I am an extremely introverted individual. And that's ok.

I am good at some things but terrible at many others. And that's ok.

I am not super-athletic. And that's ok.

I don't want to live in fear of others' opinions, nor do I want to continue to berate myself for not "measuring up" to the people around me. Comparing oneself to others is truly a prison. And I don't want to be in it anymore.  

Día de Todos Santos

Today I went with a few folks to Sumpango, Sacatepequez to see the big kite festival that is part of Dia de Todos Santos. The day commemorates the beatification of loved ones who have gone before us. Many people travel to family grave sites to clean and decorate them, and many people travel very far to do so. The trip to Sumpango today took over two and a half hours due to the masses of people trying to get out of the capital; on a normal day, the trip would have taken about forty minutes.

There is something poetic about being so dedicated to remembering loved ones who have passed. I like that today provides a concrete way for people to honor their families and to be reminded of how fleeting this life is. I don't consider myself to have had a tragic life by any means, but I have lost people whom I continue to miss. There are people who, I believe, if they were still here, would make life a bit funnier (Papaw, my dad's father), a bit more interesting (Mamaw, my dad's mother), a bit sweeter (Ingrid, my mom's close friend), and a bit more special (Mr. Meng, my best friend's dad). I want to remember them, honor their legacies, and I hope that I will see them again in heaven.