beauty, joy, frustration, and struggle

I have a love-hate relationship with Bolivia right now.  Thursday I was pretty much all excitement and Friday the excitement was still there, but along with it I experienced frustration, exhaustion, soreness, and then late Friday night--violent sickness.  It was not fun.

Friday morning was wonderful.  We went to the Vargas family’s house in Valencia, a suburb of La Paz that is just beautiful.  The area was more secluded, peaceful, and was at a lower elevation so there was more green everywhere!  They had beautiful landscaping and flowers around their house which you don’t see much in the city.  The Vargas’ have three sons, two whom have graduated from Highlands (that’s the school I’m teaching at) and are now in college in Canada (that is where Mrs. Vargas is from originally and she met Carlos Vargas, a Bolivian, after serving in Bolivia for 11 years).  We met their youngest son, Jeremy, who will be in 10^th grade at Highlands.  The Vargas’ have developed a passion for retreats and hosting retreats in their home.  They see the value, really the necessity, in getting away from busyness and devoting time as a group or individually to prayer, Scripture reading, meditation, journaling, and self-expression.  They charge the equivalent of a couple dollars for people to stay and eat at their house for the day and a few dollars if people stay overnight.  They said it was free to any of us Highlands’ teachers if we need to get away! 

We spent the morning making art, listening to Scripture being read to us by Mrs. Vargas (Lectio Divina), reflecting on the passage and journaling/praying on our own, talking and praying through our fears, concerns, and praises in small groups, and eating a nice, light American lunch of sandwiches and chips and Coke and Crush!  (In Bolivia, lunch is their biggest meal and consists of a lot of meat, potatoes, and starchy foods…something I don’t think I’m going to want to eat all the time!)  Our whole time there was just wonderful and a great time of reflection, prayer, processing, quietness, and peacefulness.

We left the Vargas’ after lunch and headed back to La Paz where we were assigned a partner (or partners in my case), given instructions for a scavenger hunt around La Paz, and dropped off to complete it with the final destination being the restaurant Sol & Luna (Sun and Moon).  We had to try to be there by 6:00.  This was Day 2 for me (Day 4 for everyone else besides Bekah), I had not gotten a tour of La Paz like the rest got on Tuesday, I know next to zero Spanish, and I am directionally challenged.  I would have died on my own.  Thankfully I had Maegan and Jay with me.  Jay was a HUGE help because he’s lived in La Paz for 4 years with his wife!  He is the new middle school Bible teacher (and might be doing some high school Bible along with my director), so he is still doing all the “orientation” stuff with all of the other new teachers (it’s 6 single girls who have never been to Bolivia, 5 of the 6 just graduated, and then Jay, a married man with 2 sons who is probably extremely bored with this orientation. ha)  So basically Maegan and I followed Jay around to the places we were supposed to go and then he left us at the post office because he had to get back to his family or maybe his youth group (he is also a youth pastor and is going to try to do both jobs this year).

Maegan and I were left to finish the scavenger hunt and get ourselves to Sol & Luna.  It was a bit frustrating trying to find certain streets and Maegan and I asked directions a few times (I was so proud of myself even though all I used was “Donde esta ____”  and Maegan helped translate their response.  Haha.)  We had to do a lot of walking and climb some pretty steep hills, which is not easy at an elevation of over 12,000 feet.  I finally spotted Sol & Luna and it was only about 4:00.  We were the second group to get there (though Jay, Maegan, and I had taken our time since Jay knew where everything was and he wanted to point out different things and show me the market they went to on Tuesday.  I think we would’ve won).  We sat there for a little bit and Becca gave me and Jess a little Spanish lesson.  My legs were aching and I was so tired and hungry.  While we were waiting, I grabbed a package of cookies at a tienda (little stands you see everywhere with food, drinks, and various small things to buy) and Becca and I went to go see the Witches market a few blocks away where they have alpaca heads and trinkets and various pagan ornaments and things.  It was really interesting.  We also stopped at a few different stores to look at alpaca sweaters.  We headed back and saw that the third group was back and then waited for Sarah, Isaac, and Tom to arrive (the veteran teachers). 

This restaurant was more “touristy” and it seemed almost everyone in it was white.  They had different dishes from all over the world that they served.  I ordered ratatouille, a French dish that sounded good and that I’ve wanted to try for awhile (probably ever since the movie “Ratatouille” came out!) and a dark German beer (though it was a little too dark for my taste).  The food was delicious and I very easily ate it all because I was so hungry! 

I came back and Skyped with my parents and watched a little bit of Monday’s episode of the Bachelorette with Bekah (though hulu and abc.com do not stream internationally so I had to find another site to get it on!  And our internet has been horrible so it wasn’t streaming quickly at all.)

Sarah and Bekah had gone to bed and I was just about to go to bed as well when suddenly I felt sick.  I will spare you the details, but I was pretty violently sick just about every 2 hours and I don’t remember ever being as sick as I was.  I was miserable.  Saturday morning Sarah knocked on my door at 8:30 to wake me up to go out to breakfast with the group and I told her I had been sick all night.  She was so sympathetic and caring and made me some coca tea (a medicinal tea made from coca leaves that helps with altitude sickness—which she suspected I got), and brought me water and crackers.  I was able to eat just part of a cracker and drink a few sips of tea and then I fell asleep.  I slept until about 4:30 and Sarah gave me a Powerade she had bought for me and made me more tea.  I ate some more crackers, drank some tea, water, and a little Powerade and fell asleep again.  I woke up around 7, right when Sarah and Bekah came back from “community group” at a local pizza place.  I was feeling better and a little stronger so I took a shower, Bekah made me some soup, and the three of us watched one of my favorite movies—“Lars and the Real Girl.”  I read for a little bit in bed and then went to sleep and woke up around 9 this morning feeling a lot healthier and stronger.  I am so thankful for my roommates’ love and care and for nursing me back to health!  I was able to eat cereal and drink some of this yogurt stuff that has probiotics in it (I’ve been drinking it every day—I like it a lot and it helps to keep your system healthy and wards off bad bacteria).  I decided to take it easy still this morning and not go to church, though I really wanted to.  But I think it’s wise to rest and take it easy today.  I’m planning on finally unpacking and getting my room organized and later on, Sarah, Bekah, and I are going to go to the ketal (grocery store) to pick up food for the week.

Tomorrow morning starts “Work Week”!  Sarah says we will basically be living at the school, getting our classrooms ready, preparing curriculum/lesson plans, learning procedures, having staff devotions every day, etc.  I hope I am feeling up to it all.  Right now it’s freaking me out that school starts a week from tomorrow and I feel totally unprepared.  But I guess that’s what this week is for—preparation.  So I think it’s OK that I feel this way.  I just have to take it a step at a time, ask a lot of questions, pray a lot, and remember back to classes, labs, student teaching, and all of my past experience for ideas and how I want to run my classroom. 

I’m frustrated that I really only had 2 days of orientation into Bolivia and now I’m thrown into “school mode.”  It doesn’t seem fair to me and I am wrestling with God as to why I had to get here late and why I had to get sick so that I missed out on Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday and going to church this morning.  I guess it teaches me further dependence on God and on the people around me, but I hate that just about everything is so unfamiliar to me.  I want that time that I missed out on and I want to be as knowledgeable and familiar with getting around La Paz and with the language as everyone else seems to be.  Please pray that I will get over my frustration, that I’ll feel physically and mentally ready for this week of preparation, and that my excitement will remain despite the difficulty. 

I am still in awe that when I look out any window in my apartment I see the beautiful mountains; I am amazed by how wonderful, loving, and hospitable everyone I've met here is; though not knowing Spanish frustrates me, I love it; and I have peace this is where I am supposed to be. 

Sending so much love to all my friends and family all over the world from my apartment in Calacoto (I spelled it wrong in my last post),

Jules            

And...this is my new life...?!?!

I settled in late last night to my apartment in Calicoto, La Paz.  It's very nice and I already know I'm going to really bond with Sarah and Bekah, my roommates.  They're super sweet and Sarah has been so helpful.  She is the third grade teacher and going into her 4th year at Highlands.  She knew no Spanish coming in but is now fluent...there is hope for me!  Our apartment is really nice!  I have my own room with big windows overlooking the city and mountains...I love it!  I've had a great day first day so far.  It's a little overwhelming and different streets and parts of the city are confusing to keep track of, but I know I'll get the hang of it.  I'm going to take a little nap before I go over to a barbecue at the guys' apartment tonight--I definitely need to recharge for a little bit. 

Quick rundown of today:  We went to a missionary family's house this morning--Scott and Lisa Meisner (sp?) and they have a 2 1/2 year old Natalie.  Scott graduated from Taylor!  He gave us a rundown of Bolivia...kind of a mini orientation.  They help lead the spanish-speaking church that meets at Highlands on Sunday morning.  There's a connection group every Saturday night for Highlands teachers and missionaries like them in the area or whoever wants to come that speaks English!  They're meeting this Saturday night at a pizza place.  I think we're going to that.  Then we went and saw the school!  It's so cute and the mountains are literally RIGHT there surrounding it.  It was fun to see my classroom and I noticed lots of curriculum books/materials on a bookshelf, lots of random things in boxes that I'll look at later, desks and chairs, and a guitar, which I was excited for since I didn't bring mine!  The walls are cute with some painted animals and a tree.  I took pictures that I will post soon.  Scott (the director) talked to us all for awhile about Highlands and working together as a staff and various things.  Sarah and her boyfriend Scott are the ones kind of orienting the newbies.  They're great.  I'm so glad to have Sarah as a roommate!  After seeing the school, they took us all out to lunch at a Bolivian restaurant where I split Picote de Pollo (I think that's what it was called...something like that).  It was chicken with a kind of spicy sauce, chunos (sp?) which are dried potatoes that had some kind of sauce, a regular potato, and some kind of fried ring..I guess a little bit like an onion ring but more bready...I'm not sure what it was.  We split pitchers of limonade and had empananas and bread as appetizers.  It was all muy delicioso! (sp? Joy taught me that. haha :) )  (Sidenote: I am happy that Jess, the 2nd grade teacher doesn't know any Spanish either so we can take classes together!)  Then Sarah took Bekah and I (the really newbies) to the grocery store where we followed her around while she bought things and instructed us and then she gave us a tour of San Miguel on our walk back to our apartment in Calicoto.  San Miguel is a section of Calicoto which she said is kind of like the "5th avenue" or "Michigan avenue" of La Paz.  She said we live in a very rich part of town, and it's good since it's safer.

More to come. I'm tired so I'm sorry this was choppy and brief.

Final sentiment: It is CRAZY that this is my new home! I am pretty positive I will fall in love with this place and these people I've met and will meet.

"I'd Like a Heaping Helping of Faith Please"

Today I was supposed to leave for Bolivia.

And to my surprise and dismay, that didn't happen.

Here is what DID happen today:

My parents and I arrived at the airport (they wanted to stay with me as long as they could to make sure everything went alright), we found a kiosk to check in and print out my boarding pass...error message. Says to talk to attendant. OK. Woman comes over. Swipes my passport through the machine, then looks at my passport. (After Ethiopia a year ago January I had accidentally thrown it in the wash, since I had stuck it in the pocket of my sweatpants, so the pages were bent and curled...but I've kept it clipped together all around in order to straighten it out, and my mom MADE SURE my passport was OK by checking at the passport agency. They said it was fine. Everything was still readable.  My Bolivian Visa was also put in my passport and God only knows what it took to finally get my Visa 5 days before my flight.)

BUT, this lady said I probably won't be able to fly with my passport like that. !!! So, she talks to the supervisor, comes back, and confirms that no, it's against regulations to let me fly on American Airlines with my passport like that. My parents and I are freaking out, I start crying, my dad keeps saying (pretty loudly :) ) over and over "This is UNBELIEVABLE!" We're explaining to the supervisor that we checked at the agency and they said it was fine, that it went through the Bolivian consulate and it was fine, yet she would not let us go. The problem was not with the slightly curled pages but with a piece of paper attached to the back cover that was just beginning to come off at the edges. COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS.

So, in this chaos, my mom says "What if we had glued it down before we came? Would there be a problem?" And the supervisor says something like "What you do in your home I don't know about" (Basically, "Don't ask, don't tell"). So, ironically, I have glue with me. Glue sticks and glue bottles actually because I'm bringing with me a ton of school supplies. (God has a sense of humor, no doubt.)  So we go over where they can't see us and I take a glue stick out of the package and my mom and I work together to glue down this stupid page attached to the back cover of my passport, making sure we get everywhere and that it's stuck down well.

So we go back to the kiosk, get an error message again for some reason (maybe because the page I'm sliding through isn't perfectly flat), and THANKFULLY another lady is there who is an ANGEL (ha) and doesn't say anything about my passport when she slides it through, validates the check in, and even doesn't say a word when I check my bags and one weighs 51 lbs. Meanwhile, we are trying to avoid seeing these stickler ladies who had stopped us (especially my dad who is wearing a bright red shirt), so after I check my bags and get in the security line with my mom, he gets far away. My mom and I are still shaking/stressed after all of this, she finally has to leave me with a quick goodbye, and I never really said goodbye to my dad.

So THEN, my carry-on suitcase has to get searched in security because they're suspicious with my tons of school supplies, which holds me up for my plane to Miami that I have to now quickly catch after the crazy fiasco that just happened. I quickly go to my gate where I see Bekah (my future roommate and flightmate whose face I just know from Facebook), and I was SO happy to see her. She was in line just about to board the plane so I jumped in with her and we boarded.

Sitting down on the plane, finally feeling like I could kind of breathe a sigh of relief, yet knowing I still had so much more to go through that day, I began to listen to some relaxing Bon Iver and journal. I began thinking about how that must've been Satan's final (hopefully final) attempt at trying to stop me from going and discourage me. And praising God for all the little blessings he provided (my parents being there, glue--though I don't know it ultimately mattered, it was pretty funny, meeting Bekah just as she was about to board) and of course the huge blessing that I had gotten on that plane. The whole ordeal made me realize (once again), I have no control over these things. I had just told God that I had faith in Him, and then, it was tested again. It was almost like a "Do you really or are you just saying that?"

Because we sat on that plane, on the ground, for 2 hours. They said it was a technical problem--something with an emergency light not coming on. They told us that when I first got on but I was sure it would leave. I was SURE of it. I had faith. When an hour went by, I didn't have as much faith. And I felt like I lost all hope and faith, like someone had punched me in the gut, when the plane was declared "out of service" and everyone had to leave. ARE YOU KIDDING ME GOD?! Do you not want me to go?!? With everything that happened that day, I was seriously doubting it.

So, we get off the plane. I am feeling totally helpless. Totally faithless. Feeling quite numb but feeling a good cry was needed. And Bekah, bless her heart, helped me tremendously just through her attitude in all of this. I eventually realized, this was not the end of the world. We'd still make it there eventually. We're at O'Hare in Chicago and my parents can pick us up and she can stay with me for however long we need to. It was craziness rebooking our flight and getting them to pull our luggage from the plane that it was going into (we'd miss our connection flight to La Paz if we had waited and took the next flight), but we got home eventually. We ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches which tasted so good after not eating for about 9 hours. And we both took 3 hour long naps. Then we ate dinner with my parents and my brother, drank some wine (wine is very good for days like today), rented a couple movies, had ice cream and watched one of them, and now here I am....needing to get all of this out. Oh, and it is my birthday as of a couple hours ago!...Don't know what Bekah, my family and I will do for it tomorrow, but hoping it's a good and RESTFUL day!

~~~

I've realized I always like to know the "Why's" of things...I'm an analyzer. And stuff like today frustrates me because I don't know why it happened. And I can speculate all I want and try to figure out the supernatural (God vs. Satan) and what I don't have control over and don't understand, or I can choose to be OK with not knowing why and trusting that God will turn this all into good. And I see the good. More time at home without frantically packing, more time for processing, time getting to know Bekah and process things with her before we jump into this new adventure, more time for rest, and REAL goodbyes with my parents. It sucks not being there, but I'm glad Bekah's with me in being a "latecomer." And this verse is playing in my head now (actually, a sing-a-long version I think I learned through AWANA tapes... :) )

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28

Home

The word "home" has been running around in my head lately.  Where is home?  Who is home?  Why am I feeling pulled in a thousand directions?  Is my new "home" really going to be Bolivia in just over a week?  How will this change my perception of "home" and the attachments to people and things I leave behind in the states?

I've always thought of "home" as a place.

Now, I don't think that's an accurate definition of "home" at all.

It feels strange calling the place I grew up near Chicago "home" when so much of my heart lies in the special moments and loved ones in my life in Indiana.  And I think of my family as more my "home" than my house itself.  My parents are talking about moving soon, and I really don't care.  I don't feel much attachment to the house...only to my family that I've lived with in that house.

I think a more accurate definition of "home" lies in the well known sentiment, "Home is where the heart is."  My heart lies with family, with friendships, with people I encounter.  Familiar places carry memories, but they don't hold our hearts. 

And people had it right with the phrase "Home away from home" in the sense that you can feel you're at "home" in multiple places because you have moments that tie your heart together with another's at different places and stages in your life. 

I've been learning about TCKs recenlty.  Third Culture Kids.  Kids who grew up somewhere different from their parents' passport country.  For TCKs, they don't define "home" as a place.  They are highly mobile and are expats (expatriates) from childhood.  They see "home" in terms of relationships.  Their home is not only not defined by a single place, but it's not defined by a culture, race, ethnicity, or language.  How awesome is that?!  I'll never be a TCK, but I will be an expat soon and I will lose my "mono-culturalism."  I will want to call Bolivia "home" and Chicago "home" and Indiana "home" and when I say I'm going "home" that could mean I'm going any of those places, because soon, I know, I will feel at "home" in all of them because my heart lies/will lie with the people in those places. 

Feeling at "home" in multiple places is a blessing, but it's also really hard when I just want everyone that I love in the same place...It's hard even now feeling split between Chicago and Indiana (and now the tons of places my good friends from Taylor and from high school have moved to!) let alone throwing Bolivia into the equation.  And I've heard from several people who have moved overseas that when they are in their "host" country, they long to be back in the U.S., and then when they come back to the U.S., they long to be back in their host country.  Am I setting myself up for that longing the rest of my life?  Maybe.  But then I remember my life is a sacrifice.  And ultimately, that I'll feel this way always, no matter where I go or don't go, because this world is not our true home.  We were "created for a place [we've] never known" sings Jon Foreman in his song "This is Home."  In that song, he talks about belonging and searching for a place of his own.  He sings, "I got my heart set on what happens next," meaning heaven.

I have no idea what heaven will be like, but I know it's real and it's coming.  (Been wanting to read the book "Heaven is Real"--has anyone read it?  It's a true story about a boy who temporarily is dead and is revived, and he actually glimpses heaven)  Anyway, I know that I'm created for a place that I've never known, and that we all are.  I think that makes so much sense when you reconcile that belief with the way that humans feel a much deeper connection to people than to a specific place, culture, ethnicity, race, or language.  The "familiar" doesn't make our home, but love that goes deeper than what we see and know--that is the one "language" we all speak and that makes up our sense of "home" as we wait for our heavenly home, where we will all be united with each other and with our Creator.  And I know only then will my longing cease.

Bolivia Bound in Doce Dias!

Countdown to Bolivia…12 days!

Life is happening fast!  I signed a 2-year contract to be a part of the organization NICS (Network of International Christian Schools) and in less than 2 weeks I will be landing in La Paz, Bolivia.  Then in just a couple short weeks after that I will begin my teaching career as a first grade teacher at Highlands International School in La Paz.  It's crazy to think I'll have my own classroom and a diverse group of students whose names I can't even pronounce right now!  Somehow it never occurred to me that this might be a bit harder than starting out my teaching career in the states.  (No, really, I’m serious.)  I had a very naïve picture in my mind of the whole thing.  I thought to myself “Teaching will be pretty easy and good with a small class and with supportive Christian teachers,” and “Well, I don’t know much Spanish, so that’ll be a challenge.  But I’ll pick it up I’m sure.  And then it’ll be easier to find a job coming back to the states since I’ll be fluent in Spanish!”  I'd say those were my primary thoughts/concerns regarding teaching in Bolivia before coming to PFO (Pre-field orientation) this week in Southaven, Mississippi.

Wow, have I learned a lot.

So many things that I never even thought about or knew before have been discussed this past week and the amount of new and valuable information is overwhelming to me, coupled of course with the fact that this all is soon going to be my world in just a couple weeks.  We’ve talked a lot about TCKs (Third Culture Kids—kids whose parents are living in a different country than their passport country) and all of the characteristics/implications of them and teaching them.  This is a totally different group of students than I’ve ever taught or even been around.  And then apart from TCKs, I’ll have local, native Bolivian students.  Previously, I was reassured that I would be teaching American curriculum and use North Carolina’s standards (not too different from Indiana, I’m sure).  I never thought about having to adapt and contextualize so many different lessons for these students.  (Teaching them the value of American AND Bolivian coins, and bringing into the discussion other coins that students from countries other than America and Bolivia would be familiar with, adapting a lesson on the 4^th of July for students who are completely unfamiliar with America’s traditions on this day but would understand Bolivia’s Independence Day—which I am unfamiliar with!)  I’m realizing I am going into this knowing not only very, very little Spanish (God, was there a reason I took French??) but also so little about their culture.  I will be going into this just as wide-eyed about Bolivian culture as my first graders will be to what I teach them about American culture.  I say I am going over there as a teacher, but in all reality, I will be just as much (if not more) a learner.

I’ve also realized in the last couple weeks, my occupation is teaching, but my vocation, what in a sense is at the heart of why I’m going, is to be a missionary.  What I have been called to do is to share the love of Jesus with my students, with their parents, with families, with neighbors and friends that have never heard it.  I recently found out a little more about religion and spirituality of the people in Bolivia.  Many do call themselves “Christians” but they have a very legalistic view of Christianity, abstaining from drinking, smoking, and dancing, for example.  There is also a blending of Christianity with paganism.  So simply put, many Bolivians, though they have heard about Jesus, are missing the love and grace and holistic gospel message.  They are missing the point that there is freedom in Christ and that faith is all that’s required of us.  Jesus overcame the law, and we have life to the full in the spirit. (And I say, let’s drink and dance to that!  Not smoke…that's gross and really bad for you ;) )

Honestly, this whole “overseas missionary” thing I’ve been battling with a little.  It seems that more and more I see reasons to be a “missionary” at home, or at least in the states.  There’s brokenness everywhere, so why go all the way to Bolivia to be a missionary and teach?  Yeah, it’s adventurous and exciting, but that’s neither the reason I’m going nor the reason I think I should be going for.  I have to keep remembering back to before I made my decision—the chills and overwhelming feeling of "Yes, this is where I want to be" that I felt on the phone talking to the director about the school and the opportunities for ministry there, the encouragement I got through friends, family, professors, the director, and staff, and most of all the spiritual attack I felt in the vulnerable place I was at in making a decision.  I can’t explain it to you in words, but it was real and a hard battle full of depression, confusion, tears, and almost resulted in a decision to turn it down because of so much fear and so many doubts hitting me and hurting me deeply.  Looking back, I am actually so thankful for it because it strengthened my faith and was further confirmation that I had decided to embark on something that Satan HATES...which in turn means I must be moving in the right direction... : ) Praise God for getting me through it and reminding me in His word of these key verses…I’m clinging tightly to them still as I am about to fly out there in less than 2 weeks!

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." (2 Timothy 1:7)

“Commit your actions to the LORD, and your plans will succeed.” (Proverbs 16:3)

“This is my command--be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the LORD your God is with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9)  –Scott, the director of my school in Bolivia signed his name with this scripture reference under it, and I got it at exactly the time I needed to be reminded of this.  This was coming out of my depression/confusion, and basically confirmed I should take the position.

Now, I am leaving with a new mindset.  I am leaving with a heart and mind fully surrendered and fully trusting that Bolivia is where I'm supposed to give of myself, not just gain Spanish immersion; where I'm supposed to be challenged and stretched, not have it easy.  There are gains and losses to going, for sure, but I have to keep coming back to "where is my heart at?"  And only God knows what will happen after 2 years there.  I'm going to shrug off any pressure to get married or to earn a lot of money and fully commit myself to serving in Bolivia for however long God wants me there.  3 words I live by, and I think everyone should live by:  Sacrifice. Surrender. Trust.  I am not my own and I don't know what's best for me, but the Lord is directing my steps!

Thank you all for your love and support as I embark on this journey!  I am so thankful for the internet that will keep me connected to you all via e-mail, facebook, skype, and blogging!  (I will use my phone only for local calls in Bolivia).  And I am also thankful I can still come home at Christmas for a few weeks, and again for some time next summer, so I am not disappearing altogether! : )

My e-mail for those of you that don’t have it is:  julieghogan@gmail.com

And my skype name is:  papaya726

Mucho amor, (that means "much love"....freetranslation.com, baby. That's one way to learn Spanish. hehe)

Julie