This is our second venture 'off the grid'. Ecuador is very far away from our lives here. This time, however, we are leaving our lives truly behind and it is doubtful that we will return to live in Baltimore. I wonder who we will stay in contact with, what part of Baltimore we will bring with us, what parts of ourselves we will leave behind, who we will be when this adventure is over, or if it will ever be over. In some ways, this will be more and less of a distance. Last time, we left all our belongings in storage, and did not return but for a short visit after Christmas to lecture to the students and bring them back to Ecuador. Eric was such a big part of the Johns Hopkins Ecuador course, I can't imagine that not being a part of our lives again, although Eric hopes to set up the same course at NJIT/Rutgers. Finally, however, we returned to the same house, the same friends, the same habits, the same schedules. Maya had the most to adjust to, with a new school the first year, and another new program her second year. I worry that Maya has had too many changes already, and is faced with more and new challenges again these next few years. Is it too much for her? Is it too late to hope for steadiness and certainly and sameness and predictability? How will this affect her and her approach to her life. I imagine that she will want to stay in the same place forever when she is an adult.
This time, we will again put everything away in storage (a bigger space this time, how did we accumulate more than last time?). Our house will be rented, then sold, and we will no longer live in it. I liked my house, I did not love it. Eric and his parents chose it and then renovated it in their way, so it took a long time for it to be mine. In the ten years we lived in the 110 (now 120) year old house, it was battered and bruised and fell apart inside and out. Trees were uprooted during Isabelle and Irene, and water seeped into the basement every time there was a violent downpour. Mice lived in the walls and often ventured into the kitchen and the closets upstairs where I hid and forgot Maya's Halloween candy. I often felt that I was battling the house, not working with it, or it was not working with me. Eric is very handy with household projects, but has no time for them, and is comfortable living with disarray. Every appliance we own is broken, but he very skillfully fixes them just enough to make them workable for a while. That won't be good enough for renters or buyers, so I will have to replace every appliance in the house.
We will leave our lives behind again, without hope of turning back. We will start again, which can be exciting and renewing. We can take what we want with us, and leave parts of ourselves behind, and that can be a good thing. We have friends in Ecuador, and a chance to reconnect and deepen our friendships. Last time, it felt that we were visitors, and did not truly become part of the lives of Ecuadorians, perhaps because they knew we were there only a short time. This time, we are returnees, so perhaps we will be invited into their lives to a greater extent. Or perhaps our time there is again too short, and our truly new lives will be in New Jersey or New York.
We will live 'off the grid' again, not participating in the relentless move forward of our North American lives. It will be 'time out' for me, a chance to explore a different side of who I am, which is a good thing. I am feeling that this move is more permanent. I will be different inside, and I will never return to who I was before. That is both good and scary and uncomfortable.
This time, we will again put everything away in storage (a bigger space this time, how did we accumulate more than last time?). Our house will be rented, then sold, and we will no longer live in it. I liked my house, I did not love it. Eric and his parents chose it and then renovated it in their way, so it took a long time for it to be mine. In the ten years we lived in the 110 (now 120) year old house, it was battered and bruised and fell apart inside and out. Trees were uprooted during Isabelle and Irene, and water seeped into the basement every time there was a violent downpour. Mice lived in the walls and often ventured into the kitchen and the closets upstairs where I hid and forgot Maya's Halloween candy. I often felt that I was battling the house, not working with it, or it was not working with me. Eric is very handy with household projects, but has no time for them, and is comfortable living with disarray. Every appliance we own is broken, but he very skillfully fixes them just enough to make them workable for a while. That won't be good enough for renters or buyers, so I will have to replace every appliance in the house.
We will leave our lives behind again, without hope of turning back. We will start again, which can be exciting and renewing. We can take what we want with us, and leave parts of ourselves behind, and that can be a good thing. We have friends in Ecuador, and a chance to reconnect and deepen our friendships. Last time, it felt that we were visitors, and did not truly become part of the lives of Ecuadorians, perhaps because they knew we were there only a short time. This time, we are returnees, so perhaps we will be invited into their lives to a greater extent. Or perhaps our time there is again too short, and our truly new lives will be in New Jersey or New York.
We will live 'off the grid' again, not participating in the relentless move forward of our North American lives. It will be 'time out' for me, a chance to explore a different side of who I am, which is a good thing. I am feeling that this move is more permanent. I will be different inside, and I will never return to who I was before. That is both good and scary and uncomfortable.
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