Facing My Past

A number, and I mean a real number of things have happened since my last entry.  Given that it was months ago now, I should hope that something has happened!  Let's talk title first.  When I was in Ayacucho for the Semana Santa (Easter), I shared one perfect day with three friends.  It seemed that no matter what we did or where we went we were in the right place at exactly the right time.  It occurred to me then that "may you always be in the right place at the right time" is a truly magical thing to wish upon someone.  If I were a talented poet, or had a way with words that left readers breathless, I would elaborate: may the coincidences that comprise your life seem always meaningful, and may your lifelong sum of opportunity costs be far less appealing than your lifelong sum of memories and experiences lived.  Maybe that made perfect sense, maybe it didn't but you get the idea, right? For all of my loved ones: may you always find yourself in the right place at exactly the right time.


You must be thinking that I'm referring to a different entry, the title of this one is "Facing My Past".  "Patience," as my father says with an almost malicious glint in his smiling eyes, "is a virtue."  At the end of my last post, I was preparing a trip to Buenos Aires, and I was terrified.  What might I encounter when I re-enter my past?  As the title suggests, I was "facing my past."  Much to my delighted surprise, being back in Buenos Aires was more wonderful than I anticipated or could even have hoped.  The city continues to hold some enchantment over me: when I'm there I feel life more dramatically, more deeply.  I reconnected with all the most important people in my Buenos Aires life, and revisited old haunts.  It was a stange sensation indeed walking down streets that used to be mine but all of a sudden were just those of a traveller passing through.  I ate cheese, rode the subway, visited the first home and the second home, shopped and tango danced.  I missed Argentine Argentine Tango.  I even went to a milonga (a tango dancing establishement) and had a wonderful time.  For as much trouble as the Argentine culture gave me last time, I found that I understood it much better, and even delighted in it.  It's much, much easier being blonde in Argentina.  Each time I leave Buenos Aires, I leave with the distinct sensation that I have unfinished business.  Long story short, facing my past was a pleasure, and one I'd gladly do again.


And that is when it occurred to me that I hope to always have a life that I am proud of, and would be happy to revisit.  Surely this is a lofty goal because everybody has challenging days, taxing months, and strenuous years, but wouldn't it be an absolute luxury to be able to say, "It was a tough day/month/year, and even though I would probably do things differently had I them to do again, I wouldn't change a thing.  My past is part of who I am, and I'd gladly face it again (and hell probably like it better and be better prepared for it the second time around)." Here, too, a way with words would be advantageous.


Enough funny business, let's get down to brass tacks, folks.  Had a great time in Buenos Aires.  Got back to Lima, and a few days later, my Dad (capital D for added importance) got to Lima!  Signed up for a gym class to deal with a little problem that is getting bigger (women will certainly know what I mean).  My Mom (capital M for added importance) got to Lima a few days later! Slept in the middle of my two parents (just to remember what the good ole' days were like, and I quickly realized that I was too big and the bed too small to return comfortably to the good ole' days).  My Erik (a pronoun that requires a capital, My for added importance and parallelism) got to Lima a few days later.  We took a three hour city tour that included a trip to the catacombs.  I have now spent a total of FOUR HOURS in the catacombs surrounded by decomposing bones... Too many??  In regards to my wonderful and indeed abundant company at the moment, I believe my Dad said it best: "Well, Catherine, the big three have descended on you."  


So, Mom, Dad, Erik... It is so wonderful having you here in Lima.  Feels like home.  That's not to say that it hasn't been an adjustment.  It has.  But a tolerable, preferable, and desireable one.


Tonight I start taking a Chinese class.  I must get back to dancing.  I'm happier dancing.  I am also going to start teaching class once-a-week in a nearby middle school.  Can't wait.  I really can't wait to be back in the classroom.  Erik is taking Spanish classes and I am so excited to hear about what he is learning, and just sit on the edge of my seat waiting for him to ask me a question so that I can re-experience albeit for one moment the teacher-student interaction and the unsurpassable (is that even a word) "Aha" moment.  Erik thinks it's weird and, I suspect, tries to get all of his questions answered at school.  But, lucky for me, a few crop up when he does his homework.


My mother was in the right place just in the nick of time: I am working on a grant proposal to provide better resources for the pedagogical institutes, and I was in so far over my head that I was on the verge of drowning.  As she always does, Mom scooped me up, dried me off, sat me down, and weeded through the nuts and bolts of grant-writing with me as we worked on what I had done to-date.  Its coming along.  But I sometimes feel like I'm wandering around in blizzerd-like weather and I walk down one path as far as possible, the wind changes, the path disappears, and the path I'd just walked on ceases to be pertinent, relevant, useful, or needed.  But, the sun'll come out tomorrow, and I'm bettin' my bottom-dollar that it will...


Thanks for tuning in to today's most recent addition, and until next time, may you find yourself in the right place at the right time, and may your past be one you are capable of and (occasionally) glad to revisit.