The Long Journey Home

The Last moments with our SALTers at the airport before they left.  We followed them out of the country the next day.

Monday morning.  Jetlag completely prevented me from posting a post on Sunday evening despite my desire to catch up on recounting the events of the past week--a week that began in Bujumbura and ended in Baltimore MD.  

Last Monday, our arrival here seemed like it would be a very distant dream.  I almost refused let myself fantasize or count down the days, probably because I was keenly aware of the many hurdles we would have to overcome to get here.  Here is a brief recounting of the chronological events as I best remember them.

I mentioned last week that our SALTers had moved out of their host families houses, and Robyn and Yolanda were staying with us on Monday and Tuesday.  Jodi returned from a vacation so she joined us in Buj as well.  That meant we had quite a full house those 2 days.  We did some debriefing with all three SALTers, then on Tuesday morning we put them on a plane back to the US for debriefing at MCC headquarters in Akron PA.  

Departure was quite emotional for all of us and I know the SALTers must have felt a mix of sadness and giddy anticipation at returning home.  The SALT assignments are hard because of the extent of cultural immersion they must weather.  They live in Burundian families, travel by public transport, work in all Burundian workplaces, etc.  I have no doubt that there is some sense of relief in having this assignment completed.

I dont know if I mentioned this, but Yolanda will actually be coming back in the fall to work with us another 2 years, in Gitega.  (She will not be a SALT volunteer, but a regular service worker then.)  We are happy she will be coming back, especially since we got no new SALT volunteers for next year.

After the SALTers got on a plane we began packing.  We were to leave the next morning early.  Our housesitter, Spencer, came over on Wednesday night to learn how things work.  It was a fairly sleepless night for Rebecca and I as we packed until after 1am then had to get up at about 4:30 am.

On the way to the airport, we picked up Zachee, who was going to keep our car (and act as country rep. while we are gone).  Our first stop was Nairobi, Kenya where we planned to stay the night to make the trip a bit easier in terms of transit times.  The flight was only an hour and a half, and we stayed at the Mennonite Guest House in Nairobi.  

We had thought of going out in taxis to do fun things in Nairobi with the kids. Instead, when we got to the lovely guesthouse grounds, we decided to just stay put. There is a nice playground there and a play room with toys. It was such a relief to have some time to just focus on Oren and David and not be multi-tasking around them, like we had been doing for a while now. We had a relaxing Thursday as well, and even got to visit with Ruth and Krystan who are in Nairobi for the birth of their baby (should be arriving very shortly!)

We got on the next flight about 11:30 pm on Friday and went overnight to London.  The kids slept for the most part so it was not too bad.  After a 5 hour transit in London we got on the last leg, an 8 hour day flight to Dulles airport in Washington DC.  This was a flight we most feared because we doubted the kids would sleep much and another 8 hours seemed like a lot.  

The challenge proved to be all we feared and the first omen of trouble was, shortly after take off, the entertainment system which offered an individualized selection of about 100 movies (many for kids) ceased to operate.  We realized we would have to keep the kids entertained 'old school' and I wondered what my parents did on the long flights overseas with my brother and I in the 1960s.

Oren was OK and happy to occupy himself coloring, but David was dead set on running up and down the 2 aisles in the 'chockablock' full British Airways 747.  Rebecca and I took turns spending most of the flight following him around and doing our best to keep him out of First Class.  (He also liked to go up to random passengers and help himself to any food he saw on their tray tables--often unnoticed.)

The flight finally did end and we got to Dulles and moved swiftly through immigration to find all four of our parents waiting for us.  It was awesome!  The kids were very happy to see them and we took 2 cars back to Baltimore.  (The only disappointment was that we hit rush hour traffic in DC and Baltimore and it took us 3 hours to get from the airport back to my parents' house where we are staying.)

I did not mind the ride though.  I found myself appreciating the most mundane things--the smooth, well-constructed highways, the enormous variety of trees and forest surrounding the highway, drivers staying in their lanes in a bottleneck and not trying to drive on the median or on the other side of the highway to get in the front.  The only real negative was the 104 degree temperature on the day we arrived.  Of course we did not experience it in the comfort of the airconditioned Buick LeSabre.

As we approached our house I found myself marveling at the fact that I could see the houses and gardens.  I realized that for David and Oren, driving through a neighborhood has meant passing between high walls and gates.  The gardens and houses are well hidden from public scrutiny.  I realize what a privilege it is to live in a place that is secure enough, in terms of non-corrupt law enforcement and a social safety net that help the most desperate, that we can live here without fortifying our personal domiciles.  I had honestly forgotten how strange it is to live in a kind of prison with 8 foot high walls and razor wire on top and a night guard that stays on the property 7 nights per week.

I am happy that the culture shock I have been experiencing has been good rather than bad.  It can be tempting to see only the excess, but not the good values reflected in the way we live.   What most impressed me here is that Americans like forests, trees, parkland, grass, and cleanliness.  It is also amazing to not see streets littered with trash and people throwing anything on the ground, or smelling the constant smell of burning in the neighborhood as people burn their garbage every day.  AND there is no dust here!

Friday evening, right when we arrived, we had a birthday party for Oren and Rebecca, who had their birthdays in Burundi recently.  Rebecca's brother's family joined us with her parents at my parents house.  We had pizza, fresh salad, a real Birthday cake in the shape of a crab, AND homemade ice cream. It was totally American. I can't tell you how long it has been since we have had good ice cream.  It was the perfect homecoming meal.  

Rebecca and I did some shopping on Saturday and even though it was familiar in the past, we were stunned by the amount of things in a supermarket.  Definitely too many choices, but I do appreciate the creativity behind the various products, having come from a place where there is no spirit of entrepreneurship or any attempt to offer choices.  (For example, there are still basically 3 soft drinks--Coke, Sprite, and Fanta orange.)  I know there would be a market for other choices, but it seems no one is motivated to exploit it.  (Unless they could get a grant from someone to do so.)  We bought the things we really missed--salmon, blueberries, cherries, sweet corn, ice cream.

I think the other thing we enjoyed about going out shopping was being anonymous--not followed by gawkers and children shouting "mzungu!"begging for money, or vendors aggressively shoving produce in your face and shouting prices at you.  No one even noticed us or gave us a second glance, it was great.

We went to church with my parents on Sunday (Valley Baptist in Towson) and shared the work we were doing with a Sunday school class and as a missions moment in the service.  It was good to speak to many who pray for us and even keep up with this blog.

We spent the afternoon at Rebecca's parents. They have a sort of a "suburban farm" and Rebecca's mom decreed that our dinner would be made of what we could harvest from the garden. So we went out and found green beans, potatoes, zucchini, tomatoes, black berries, swiss chard, apples and basil. Our supper was delicious and fresh and healthy. The kids enjoyed running around their yard, swinging on the swing set and taking a walk around the block. Little David, at 1.8 years, walked almost the whole way himself: it is such a new experience for him to be walking unconfined by walls and gates.  I can't imagine what he must think of it all.  Oren also loved the opportunity to revisit all the old toys we had stored at Gramma Jean's house. Oren certainly feels like he has come home, while for David, everyone and everything must seem totally new.

I am trying my best to savor every moment here and enjoy the things we really miss.  Surprisingly it is not the material things or food.  We really miss hiking, going on walks in neighborhoods, playing with the kids in public parks, and generally enjoying the outdoors and public places in relative anonymity.

The other thing we will savor is the time with family and friends.  It is funny, I remember as a child, coming back on home leave in the summer every 2 years from Bangladesh.  I remember being met by my grandparents in Oklahoma City, who took us home in the scorching heat in Cherokee, 2 hours away, in their airconditioned Buick.  I remember loving their cozy, clean, carpeted, airconditioned house. It was full of old toys and games, all neatly kept waiting for Grandkids.  I remember how much I loved the carpeting, even in the bathrooms, and the cool air, and then running around outdoors in the heat on the farm with my cousins.  

I don't know when or how parents turn into grandparents, but our parents seem to have instinctively recreated the same thing for our children.  Oren is already aware of it and could not wait to get to Grandpa Grammy's house to play with a certain train set and watch Dumbo and the Little Engine that Could.  And to go to Grandma Jean and Pappa Dave's house to pick veggies, berries and apples in the garden.  I see how these indelible memories are created and I remember how especially poignant they are when visits are few and far between, coming back, as a child, from a culture not one's own.  

As hard as it is to be away for so long, it makes the time together that much sweeter and memorable.