Chao, Not Adios

“We never know what is going to happen, do we? Life is always throwing us this way and that. That’s where the adventure is. Not knowing where you’ll end up or how you’ll fare. It’s all a mystery, and when we say any different, we’re just lying to ourselves. Tell me, when have you felt most alive?”  

~ from The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey ~ 

Considering the majority of my readers is family, friends, and without whom I would not be here, I decided I owe it to you to explain what has been leading up to the news I received last week…

Tonight I will be returning home for an indefinite amount of time.

The first four months of my Ecuador year went very smoothly health-wise. I was adapting to a new kind of diet but overall I felt strong, had energy, and only occasionally dealt with the volunteer-staple of stomach bugs. The reality is, since Christmas my health has been, for lack of a better term, “on the rocks.” Every month there’s been something different, viruses and infections alike. Thursday morning, during my most recent cold, I got a phone call from our boss. She told me that, after much discussion, the foundation thought it would be the best decision to have me return home to get checked out, get my defenses back up, and ship me back here when I’m healthy. That time period, as of now, is indefinite.

So I leave tonight, and it has been an extremely difficult last few days. The news, knowing it would be within the week, brought on a slew of emotions, but mostly sadness and disappointment. Telling neighbors today has been emotionally draining. The year is not meant to be split up like this, and with only 3 months left it is the last thing I want to do. The community of Mount Sinai is going through a very hard time right now as the government is in the process of kicking people out of certain sectors, taking away electricity and houses, and many families are left with nowhere to go or nowhere to send their kids to school. To not be able to be with my neighbors through that, to leave my community in the heat of retreat group season, to lose a part of this last quarter of the year—is painful. At the same time I feel caught in a strange world of thanksgiving to see my family in this time, yet overwhelmingly not feeling emotionally ready to leave or make that kind of transition.

But I was lucky. After Thursday, I was met with the 3^rd Quarter All-RdC Weekend Retreat in Manta. I was blessed to have been able to relax, laugh, reflect, and process this next step with the other volunteers, our boss, and the retreat leader. I spent a lot of time thinking about what I wanted this upcoming time to be for me and where I wanted my emotions to be. First and foremost, I am being sent home for the right reason. I’ve found myself a part of a foundation that cares so much for their volunteers and their experience that they take a measure like this for my safety. The truth is, if I do indeed want to finish this year strong I need something to change. It has effected my ability to be in the neighborhood, the amount of work I´ve been able to do, and (as you all can attest) how often I can blog or am in touch with friends and family back home. I think about if these last 3 months continued going like they’ve been going…I don’t think I’d look back and say I finished strong.

I have a lot of goals for the end of my year but am most of all hoping I can intentionally spread my energy with neighborhood time, working hard at my job, and our house community. It would be unfair to those here to not do what I can to be able to put all of my energy into that goal. This can be a time to rest and recuperate not only physically but emotionally and spiritually—having time in silence, time to read, helping my sister with high school finals, maybe even finishing up my map of Mount Sinai with my mom. And maybe above all, the time on retreat and this time in general has truly reminded me how blessed I am with support and love. I couldn’t do this without it, and Rostro, my volunteer community, family, and friends are who I have to thank wholeheartedly.

All in all, there are silver linings. Rainer Maria Rilke says to “have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves.” I have a lot of questions about this upcoming time and what it will be, how I will feel. But it’s a part of my specific journey this year and I am slowly starting to see those linings. I will miss them—my neighbors, my community, the other volunteers—while I’m gone, but I hope to be back as soon as possible and this time with strength and energy to “finish well.”

Thank you all so much for your support, your words of encouragement, your care. Any prayers and thoughts would mean the world.

With Hope,

Miguel