Halfway

David started working at Nissan North America April 1, 2008. He came back to MI for 3 weeks in May; I moved to Mexico about June 15, 2008. Since we came at different times, we mentally calculate Memorial Day weekend as the "start" of our time here in Mexico, bc that is between our arrival dates, and is about the time that our moving truck packed up all of our items.

It's amazing what a difference a year makes.
"The days are long but the years are short"

June 1, 2008 - exactly 1 year ago - I was scared and nervous about what the next year would bring. I cried as I said good-bye to my students, esp. the day that they gave me a homemade quilt with personal messages. I fidgeted all day and tossed at night, wondering and worrying. My main worries at the time:
a) what would I do all day?
b) when would our moving truck arrive?
c) which items could I not live without but hadn't remembered to pack and couldn't find in Mexico?
d) how long would it be before I would feel comfortable driving/traveling in Mexico?
e) why did God want us to do this?

We had planned for everything we could think of:
-created an international calling plan with a combo of Skype & cell phones
-studied a lot of spanish
-packed months of can't-live-without medications, foods, toiletries, books, "green" cleaners
- prayed
-visited family

But we didn't know a lot of things.
We didn't know how much we would miss everything: the lovely summer evenings, church outside under the tent, leaves falling, wide roads, taste of Ann Arbor, Whole Foods, Target, Ann Arbor library, directing drama, Indian buffet after church, advent services, handing out candy for Halloween, teaching a subject I actually understand, housework, Home Depot, chinese buffet, NPR in the car, super bowl commercials, voting live and in person, ash wednesday service, unlimited cell phone minutes, and seeing friends

And how many things we really liked about Mexico:
no snow, no ice, housekeeper, portero/car washer/gardener, amazing service at restaurants and stores, full-service gas stations, walking more, farmers market, hand-made shopping, hosting family, vistiing the beach, mango-on-a-stick, corn with lime juice and chili powder, fresh avocado, real tortillas, and about a hundred other delicious foods, more free time, Korean barbecue, new friends, bilingual church, learning Spanish, taxis, parades outside our door, sharing a car, and looking at America as a continent not a country.

In July, when I was watching TV for hours every day, waiting for our truck to arrive, nervous about teaching Algebra, and getting lost on my way to starbucks to use the internet, I didn't think I'd ever feel comfortable here.
In October, when homesickness was starting to overcome me, and I was becoming simultaneously addicted to election coverage and a fictional world, I didn't think I'd ever stop counting the days to our next trip home.
In December, when it looked as if my home state was falling apart, I could think of nothing but going home to mourn.
In March, when I realized that I might be able to teach my favorite subject next year, and lots of family came to visit us here and fell in love with our adopted country, and the sun came out to warm us all up, I started to feel thankful for this opportunity.
In May, when the swine flu threatened to close the border, I almost ran for the safety of home, but instead traveled to the beach and relaxed with the Mexicans.
But then, this week, in June, as I go home to see "my" kids graduate, and visit with my family, and shop for all the items we couldn't find here, I'm starting to accept that by the time we leave this house in Mexico, we will have lived here as long as we lived in our last house in Michigan.

Halfway through, I'm seeing the wisdom of the quote I heard yesterday:
"The days are long, but the years are short."