We are not dead.
I just thought I should probably clarify that before I went on to talk about anything else, since it seemed like some of you might have assumed otherwise, being as we moved out into the jungle two weeks ago and have neglected to contact the outside world since then.
The main reasons that we haven’t been active in the blogosphere of late can be boiled down into two main categories, which are as follows:
Internet – The “World Wide Web,” as it turns out, has stretched a bit of the truth in its name. I don’t quite know how they were able to bandy about such a grandiose title and not be sued for mass public deception (I think it probably has something to do with the fact that no one knows who “they” is), but there it is: the internet is not omnipresent. I would call it semi-present, at best. In our house, specifically, it is barely a figment of the imagination.
As you are probably aware, blogging without internet is remarkably difficult. Our two partner families have figured out how to beat the odds occasionally (via a 2G network) and score a few precious minutes of connectivity here and there, but we haven’t quite figured out a good solution for ourselves yet beyond going over to our partners’ houses to “visit” and try to download our emails. “Try” being the key word, since even our tech savvy partners often lose the fight for a steady connection.
Our second reason is that we have been…
Adjusting – This is the term that we often use to describe these unique transitional times that we keep coming up against. It’s like a code word among missionaries. When a fellow bush missionary asks you how you’re doing and you say, “We’re adjusting right now,” he will give a sympathetic, knowing look and give you a pat on the back. It’s sort of an expression of an emotional hodge-podge of joy/chaos/instability/terror/hope/peace/awkwardness.
It’s what you feel when you see a 4 ½ inch long poisonous centipede scurrying mere feet from your two little boys as they play Legos in your living room (before you’ve had your morning coffee). It’s what you feel when you’re tired of eating all your meals on the floor, but you can’t do anything about it until you build your chairs (out of warped bush timber). It’s what you feel when you go for a walk in the village and are greeted at every hut with a huge smile and an expression of gratitude that you’ve come to live with them. It’s what you feel as you think about trying to learn an unwritten language.
Working through all those things (plus a few more) is “adjusting.” And we’ve been busy doing that. Too busy, as it happens, to be writing blog posts.
Life is starting to feel normal again though. At least a little bit. So, we’ll probably be able to fill you in on specific happenings more regularly from here on out. Assuming, that is, that we can find where the internet is hiding.