March 7, 2016

I just got back after a week away (for work), which included a full day of R&R in a colonial city by a volcano, a perfect cone overlooking streets filled with blooming jacaranda trees. I still feel detached. When I start to think too much, to feel too much, the gremlins in my head start talking – “You could be replaced by a brick and nobody would even notice the difference.” Is this depression talking? I tell myself it’s not true even though, at the deepest level, it feels true.

It’s been so dry, but now it’s raining. I wore sandals today and left my raincoat at home. It doesn’t matter. “Since I gave up hope, I feel a lot better.”

I don’t want to be so melancholy. Or do I?



Handling It

February 25, 2016

In January we flew in one long continuous trip from Tirana to Cusco, 36 hours of travel, 5 flights, 4 international border crossings. We got up at 4:00 a.m. in Tirana to catch a flight to Rome, then Amsterdam, then Bogotá, Lima, and finally Cusco. The worst layover was in Lima (1:00 a.m. local time, 7:00 a.m. by our body clocks though we’d slept barely at all that night). The kids were insanely wired and tired. We were too in our own way. Both Gimli and I felt like the floor and walls were moving even when we were standing still. When we landed in Lima, I had to shake the kids awake from deep sleep. With his eyes still closed, Oz cried “I can’t handle this, not even a little bit.”

But we did it. I doubt we’ll ever do it again, though, not with all four of us, and definitely not while the kids are still kids.

I’m still trying to figure out what we’re doing here, when we don’t really want to be here and we don’t really feel wanted. We moved into a new apartment and it was a little bit of a boost, a fresh start in some ways, and I’ve been deliberately trying to think about and approach my work in new ways. But I feel like I’m handling it only a little bit. People ask me if I feel at home yet in Bogotá, or how I like living in Colombia, and I never know what to say. I mention the good things – how people sitting on a bus will graciously hold packages or bags for people standing, or the abundance of fresh tropical fruits. But really my heart isn’t in it, not even a little bit.

This is going to be a historic year for the country, no matter what happens – peace accords right around the corner, high probability of a TRC process, the possibility for profound social and political change exists. And I feel strangely detached from the whole thing. I can’t engage emotionally. I’m here, but I’m not here. The past three years have felt like one long present moment. I’m not moving, I’m floating. The organization I work for has been deeply committed to the peace processes, and I’m deeply committed to limiting my time on Facebook.

So Gimli and I have agreed to stay until December, but I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around being here past August.

remembering how

February 19, 2016

Type, delete; type, delete… we have date night tonight, and I’m excited about enjoying some really good food somewhere.

I found myself with a lot of extra time on my hands this week, so used some of it to read academic articles in my field. Also to catch up on some neglected projects at work. Did not use it to unpack and organize the house; we have all the basics in place but I cannot put my hands on my set of knitting needles so I’m grumpy about that.

I’ve been listening to my IF playlist off and on on iTunes. It’s funny to me how tenuous the connection of some of the songs is to infertility, but at the time it all made sense in my head. It also reminds me of how painful it all was.

Last year at this time I was writing dissertation revisions. I am so completely glad that I am not doing that right now. Or ever again.

I’m hoping that by randomly posting whatever is in my head I will remember how to do this blog thing again…

more random blather

February 11, 2016

I guess my goal is to blog more, not necessarily to say anything. But I realized that even High Albania has a whole section on vampires. Should I move on to zombies? How was Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (the book)? I read most of Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter but never read the last chapter because it was just getting too gory, and I’d figured out the ending. Oddly enough, it’s one of the very, very few books I never finished. I’m kind of OCD about finishing books. The only other book I can remember deliberately walking away from was Tess of the D’Ubervilles, which for some reason really annoyed me. I’m not sure I even remember why.

How it’s going

February 9, 2016

So, the goals. I recognize they were pretty ambitious. I did great for a week, and then we moved, and I let the stress of that be my excuse for falling off the proverbial wagon (especially the computer games, journaling, and blogging goals). But this is a slow week at work, just now, so I’m ready to take it up again.

I love our new apartment. It’s high and warm and full of light. It’s a much longer walk to school, we clocked 28 minutes door to door today, but it’s good for all of us to get the additional exercise. It’s also forcing Illyria to face her fear of dogs as there are a lot of dogs en route. Mostly on leashes but not always.

A good friend from grad school contacted me yesterday about putting together a proposal for a special issue of an anthro journal, so that’s fun to think about – and scary. But that’s a small step towards the publishing goal, so that’s good. A necessary if not sufficient condition.

I’ve put a time limit on “time-wasting” web sites (it’s a browser extension called “Waste No Time,” it’s not perfect but I’ve been able to make it work for me. I used it throughout my dissertation writing to prevent getting distracted.

And, I faced a really awkward and difficult conversation at work today, someone I directly supervise, and it went really well! They weren’t defensive and agreed to change the thing they’re doing that was bugging other people at the office. So I feel good about that.

In terms of reading more books, I tallied up that I read seven books in January. But only one was a new read (Dracula). The rest were all re-reads (and every single one had at least one vampire in it… not sure what that says about me…). So now I’m reading Edith Durham’s High Albania, published in 1908. It is fascinating! She traveled as a single English woman in her late 30s all over some really rough terrain where very few outsiders ever went. Truly badass, and very smart. I have a shelf full of books to read next… I almost want to put together a syllabus for myself for the next 3 months and treat it like a university course.

Gimli is in Budapest this week and I’m insanely jealous.

Land of the Eagle

January 27, 2016

There is something so perfectly melancholy about a Balkan winter, replete with rain and early dark.

I would move back there in a heartbeat. And yet it was hard: Gimli was working 12-hour days and I was with the kids 24/7. We all got sick and it rained almost every day, making it hard to get out and do things.

And it was good too – we saw so many friends, ate delicious food – I could rave on and on about the sweet fresh carrots and potatoes and leeks – it was so much fun to speak Albanian again and realize how well I remembered what I’d learned before.

We revisited old haunts, Illyria remembered a lot of places, we caught up with people.

But I don’t live there anymore. I don’t know if we ever actually will again. For now, it was enough just to be there, to see Dajti, to say “përshendetje” and “faleminderit,” to tell the kids stories about their early years (and things they don’t remember), just to be there. It was enough.

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January 19, 2016

Finally, some time to write. We have spent the last 18 days on vacation but Gimli has been working, and I’ve been with the kids almost 24/7 the whole time. I think the only exceptions to that have been brief grocery runs and potty breaks.

We went to Albania. I have too much to think about to say anything about that right now except that it was so worth it and I’m so glad we did.

Right now we’re in Peru at my parent’s house and it feels like the right place to be as well. My parents are slowing down like clockwork unwinding. It’s only a matter of time until we as a family collective will have to make some significant decisions. Initial conversations have begun… but it will be complicated, because of geography. Well, I’m sure I’ll come back to this later.

I wanted mostly to come to this space today to think about 2015 and 2016. The required New Year’s post. 2015 was a tough year, emotionally. So much that I don’t feel like rehashing right now. I ended the year feeling burned out and grumpy. What I know with absolute clarity is that I need to talk with my supervisor about some of this, or most of it. Just lay it all out on the table. The only actual plan I have for getting onto a better track is to let go of a lot of my dreams/hopes/desires/wishes for this work, and just be as professional as I possibly can. This job is not my own personal salvation and I think my biggest mistake has been thinking that it was.

I want to spend 2016 more focused on things that matter, and on the world around me. I’m thinking of drastically cutting back on Facebook time, celebrity gossip sites, and all computer games (includes tablets). They are huge time wasters and add nothing to my life. If I have the time and energy to play a game, then I have the time and energy to knit, and at the very least knitting brings something real into the world. Not a high score but a useful and hopefully beautiful item created by my own hands. (Although sometimes setting up and starting a project takes a lot more time and energy than just tapping on “new game”).

The other thing I want to do this year is journal and blog more. I want to write in my journal for 15 minutes every evening after the kids go to sleep, and blog 3x a week (twice on my family blog, once here). I’ve had a lovely hand-made paper journal for over a year and I think it has exactly four entries in it. I want to fill it up.

I have one more goal but I don’t know how realistic it is – to read a book a week. I’d like to be an academic book but it could be a novel I guess. If I can do a little of both that would be great. And I’d like to publish an article, if we’re going to be all goal-oriented up in here I may as well throw that one in too.

The question of when to leave Colombia remains unresolved. In part because I don’t just want to run away from all that has been hard and unfulfilling about our time here, but there isn’t anything clearly and strongly calling to me to run towards. At least not professionally. Going back to Virginia would mean friends and community and a bilingual school for the kids – but professionally I don’t know if there is anything there for me. Going back to Albania would be lovely, but it is so dang far away (see aging parents paragraph above) and again, I don’t know if there is anything there for me professionally either. Moving to Peru may happen at some point eventually anyway (could we talk my mom into moving to the US? Hard to say)… it would be for my parents, not for me really.

Gimli threw me for a loop in early December when he came back from a work even (that I didn’t attend because of the kids) riding a high of job satisfaction and suddenly talking about renewing our visas next September. I told him that even to consider it we would have to renegotiate some things at work, especially around communication – and it was good, I actually was able to say some things I’d been feeling for a long time but felt unable to say before. (Thank you, therapy!) I guess the talk I feel like I need to have with my supervisor is another part of this too – trying to see a way clear to staying.

So that’s where I am at the start of 2016. I have a lot of worries and fears, mostly about the kids – a new school year starts for them in February, and Oz will be joining his big sister at the elementary school that has been such a struggle for her. I worry about Illyria’s weight and that is a whole ‘nother can of worms that I tremble but need to write about. It will be a big change for Oz being at school full time, instead of half-days. Oh, and we’re moving to a different apartment as soon as we get back to Colombia. So… here we go.


November 7, 2015

The kids are asleep, lulled by my voice reading C. S. Lewis. It is so satisfying to read these books to them, the first chapter books I remember my dad reading to my sister and me when we were just a little younger than my kids are now. After they fell asleep I got up to write a couple e-mails and finish my beer, listening to my music – the “Mellow” mix – and realized that the music was hitting a psychic spot that needed it badly, so I left the music on and caught up on blogs a bit. I needed this. I should do this more often.

A Sorta Fairytale

October 19, 2015

(apologies to Tori)

My therapist says I’m carrying a heavy emotional load, bottling things up. This is such an old, old story. When I crack open the bottlecap what wells up is just this tremendous sadness. She gave me some exercises to do, to start letting it out little by little. I need to find/make the time to do that. The next 2 weeks are pretty packed. But it’s so much closer to the surface these days.

I had a delayed reaction this morning to our weekend drama – I cut Illyria’s hair on Sunday, at her request, but I cut it too short and she was upset. This morning she went to school in tears, afraid of what the other kids might say. Haven’t we all had this experience? I know it’s a rite of passage but I feel consumed by guilt. If I could give her my own hair I would. So this morning we did yoga together, and I was cheerful and supportive and encouraging, but after I dropped her off at school I kind of fell apart a little bit – I felt her butterflies in my stomach, I felt her fear and embarrassment. I know this over-identification is not good for me or for her.

I feel dull and deadened inside. I have so little motivation or energy for work, for anything. This feels like the leading edge of a bit of depression maybe.


October 7, 2015

When I think about the day we left Albania, I still feel like crying. How do you forgive yourself for leaving someone? How do you forgive yourself for leaving? How do you forgive yourself?

I don’t know what the mechanism is, what steps to take. How do you do it?