The Trouble with Two Homes and Yellow Underwear

I came "home" to Pujili today to a slew of nuisances. The rude taxi driver didn't get out of his car to help me with my bags although I was quite obviously on the struggle bus. My landlords and their family also saw me dragging my giant backpack, red in the face, trying to lift it over their truck and didn't lift a finger. None of the ATM's in town were working and I needed to pay rent and grocery shop for my old mother Hubbard kitchen and had a measly $10 to my name. The tienda lady gave me a hard time about said $10 bill because it had a tiny tear on one side until I pushed out my lower lip and said "it's all the money I have". A piece in the back of my toilet broke right before I left and didn't have time to fix it so I realized it was still broken, said a few curse words, and attempted to fix it, accidentally sprayed super glue all over my hand, said a few more curse words and slapped duct tape on it and called it a day. I finally went to cook dinner at 8pm and realized someone (my landlord) had disconnected my troublesome gas tank so I went in the backyard with a flashlight and tried to reconnect it to no avail. I baked some eggs for dinner. They were surprisingly tasty.

And yet, all of this is part of this "home". This feels more familiar to me now than San Diego does. Now, before you get all up in arms about wanting me to come back to SD (Mom), it doesn't mean that I prefer these nuisances to those I experience in the US. They're 100% different, but each place has its own sources of stress. The US isn't perfect either, no matter how much I idealize it when I'm homesick here. It's just so strange to me that I feel more at home here, while I've been counting down the days until I can get back there. They warned me this would happen. Just when you start to finally feel comfortable, you'll leave. As Ron Burgandy once said, I'M IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTION!

Anyway.

Christmas was amazing! I ate and drank to my heart's content (and past it) every day I was home. I spent a lot of time (though never enough) with my sobrinitos, bonded over beers with Carly and Chris singing Son by Four and watching vine videos, I had brunches and lunches and hikes with great friends, I danced, I laughed, I drove, I sang, I hugged, and I loved every minute of it. I only allowed myself to cry for 1 minute in the airport bathroom because I know I'll be back soon. Until then, don't forget about me, San Diego!

how could you not be in love with this city?!

Cupcake ATM's are a thing now so I guess I'm moving to LA

Devil, Angel, Granny forevs.

you be my wings and I'll be your anchor

with all my heart

Back in Ecuador, I rang in the New Year in Quito. Año Viejo and Año Nuevo were pretty awesome! There are so many superstitions, which I love, and I got to spend it with my wonderful host family, so it was really fun being a part of all the different traditions here. I wore yellow underwear to bring good luck in the new year. I ate lentils for good luck. I made a life-size doll (monigote/viejo/muñeco) that resembled me and represents my "old year" or the previous year, which we burned at midnight, burning all of the bad energy from 2014 in order to start fresh. On the doll, I placed my testamento, which listed all the things I would like 2015 to bring to my loved ones and to me. I ate 12 grapes at midnight, one for each month of the new year, and made one wish with each grape. I washed my hands with champagne and brown sugar to wash away the bad energy. We ate dinner together after midnight and stayed up until 4:00am just chatting. We had a couple beers between the three of us but it was just good, clean fun. So very different from all New Year's Eves in the past, but though the superstitions seem silly, they're a kind of hopeful and self-fulfilling prophecy to focus on the positive, even the underwear. I think I'll be carrying these traditions on in the future, no matter where I am. 

Giant monigote in Quito

My monigote- muy parecidas, no?

2014 wasn't a bad year, but it was still fun to watch it BURN!

 

2014 was the underdog that came back and bit its critics (me) in the ass! (That's reminiscent.) My first year of Peace Corps (2013) was probably my most challenging to date and I didn't have the highest hopes for my second and final year. This time last year, I was bawling my eyes out in the airport at the thought of leaving behind my family, friends, and home once again. But alas, I guess my attitude had nowhere to go but up, and this year exceeded my every expectation. 

2015 is a huge mystery. I feel anxious and excited and it gives me butterflies to think about all the possibilities. My only resolution this year is to be present and mindful during every interaction. I know this isn't a SMART goal, it can't be measured, it's not time-bound, it may not even be realistic, but it's something I would like to work on. I don't want to feel like I missed out on anything because I was counting down to something in the future or dwelling on what happened or could have happened in the past. It's okay to have two homes, or ten or twenty. As long as you always have on your figurative yellow underwear.

Happy 2015, friends! Feliz Año, amigos!