Greece
It has been 8 long months since we returned home from Greece. I hit life at home and it was almost culture shock all over again but I got readjusted quickly and soon I was living my normal routine. We found a church, we got new jobs, we struggle to pay off overwhelming school loans and Greece is forgotten for a time. But 6 months of normal life after a taste of travel and culture, adventure and purpose. Spiritual growth and new friends. Smells and tastes remind me of Greece and my heart yearns to go back.
I remember sunny days sitting on our balcony playing cards, my little barefoot blond baby running in and out in his footy jammies and slipping in and out of the rails onto the neighbors balcony.
Cold tile floors, washing laundry in a plastic tub and hanging it to dry.
Shopping in the market and trying to compare euros to dollars to understand the price.
The delicious and terribly cheap chocolate and the gyros. Fresh. Hot. Most delicious gyros I've ever eaten. Greek yogurt and muesli, cooking in my tiny kitchen that hardly fit one. The tea and coffee in a french press and spending time with sisters.
Walking the streets in search of refugees who would like to come spend the afternoon at the community center. Making cup after cup of hot chai and walking to the corner store to buy more sandwich makings for hungry refugees. Learning their language and teaching them English. Learning to communicate and build relationships with people who speak a completely different language. And the camps. The camps were so awful and sad and happy. The children clung to you and cried and pouted if they didn't get what they wanted, most of them spoke broken English. And they loved hard.
I don't usually miss things or people but I do miss Greece.
It was a struggle the first two weeks and just when it got good, when Drew learned to drive manual like he had always driven one and we got to love our little apartment on the sea, before we were able to explore Lesvos as much as we longed to and just when the community center became a thing I looked forward to, that is when we had to pack our bags and fly home. Say goodbye to the volunteers and the refugees and our new home away from home...Greece, and go back to normal life.
Lately I've longed to travel again, to pack my bags and go somewhere, anywhere. Turkey with a sister, India with other sisters. Somewhere I'm needed and somewhere new. I'm hungry for adventure and change!
But today I am here. In Bemidji, MN, and that is where I'm needed by an elderly couple, my work, the place I volunteer and my family. This is where I am placed by God to make a difference. So this is where I'll grow and bloom and make a difference.
But if I'm ever given the opportunity to go, I won't hesitate to take up my passport and my bags and fly away after my heart to a new adventure.
I remember sunny days sitting on our balcony playing cards, my little barefoot blond baby running in and out in his footy jammies and slipping in and out of the rails onto the neighbors balcony.
Cold tile floors, washing laundry in a plastic tub and hanging it to dry.
Shopping in the market and trying to compare euros to dollars to understand the price.
The delicious and terribly cheap chocolate and the gyros. Fresh. Hot. Most delicious gyros I've ever eaten. Greek yogurt and muesli, cooking in my tiny kitchen that hardly fit one. The tea and coffee in a french press and spending time with sisters.
Walking the streets in search of refugees who would like to come spend the afternoon at the community center. Making cup after cup of hot chai and walking to the corner store to buy more sandwich makings for hungry refugees. Learning their language and teaching them English. Learning to communicate and build relationships with people who speak a completely different language. And the camps. The camps were so awful and sad and happy. The children clung to you and cried and pouted if they didn't get what they wanted, most of them spoke broken English. And they loved hard.
I don't usually miss things or people but I do miss Greece.
It was a struggle the first two weeks and just when it got good, when Drew learned to drive manual like he had always driven one and we got to love our little apartment on the sea, before we were able to explore Lesvos as much as we longed to and just when the community center became a thing I looked forward to, that is when we had to pack our bags and fly home. Say goodbye to the volunteers and the refugees and our new home away from home...Greece, and go back to normal life.
Lately I've longed to travel again, to pack my bags and go somewhere, anywhere. Turkey with a sister, India with other sisters. Somewhere I'm needed and somewhere new. I'm hungry for adventure and change!
But today I am here. In Bemidji, MN, and that is where I'm needed by an elderly couple, my work, the place I volunteer and my family. This is where I am placed by God to make a difference. So this is where I'll grow and bloom and make a difference.
But if I'm ever given the opportunity to go, I won't hesitate to take up my passport and my bags and fly away after my heart to a new adventure.
posted by Anna @ 12:57 PM
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