(extra)Ordinary

November is quickly slipping by and Christmas decorations are being hung up in every home (and shopping mall) as students finish their year and begin their equivalent of summer break. My host parents are both teachers and my host siblings are still in university, so our house is especially excited for the upcoming vacaciones. Already, we're making plans for extended family visits and Christmas church celebrations...and likely many of these plans will actually happen, but I'm also learning to adjust my expectations and anticipate a fair amount of last minute change-of-plans.

At the beginning of my YAV year, I remember writing about the unexpected schedule changes the weather presented to some of my volunteer site placements. Since then, the rainy season has ended and I've had more consistency with my site commitments, but the unexpected schedule changes have now taken form in my personal plans. Time is more fluid, more elastic, here and, as a consequence, there is not such a rigid commitment to plans. Barranquilleros in particular are known for changing plans last minute, and recently I've become aware of the clash between my follow-through-no-matter-what mindset and the more relaxed, unforced mindset of the culture that surrounds me. Often, if someone proposes a plan, I'm quick to take it at face value and assume we'll follow through with it in time. And yet, in this context there's a much looser commitment to follow through with proposed plans and there's more social permission to back out at any point. When I shared some of these reflections with a friend at church, he laughed and kind of shrugged his shoulders before saying, "a veces la flojera gana" or, "sometimes laziness wins." His reaction reinforces the mentality this culture collectively embraces: slow down, don't worry so much about the future, be here now. It's no surprise that change of plans are met with grace and understanding, the most often response being: "tranquila."

As I adjust to this relationship with time, I'm learning to embrace a slower rhythm. As an alternative to adventures outside the 4 walls of my home, I'm learning to listen to my body, realizing that I have permission to adjust my plans based on my energy, whether that means taking a nap or calling a loved one or making a cup of tea. While I do love being active and occupied, this season has reminded me of the joy of unplugging, of spending a whole Saturday afternoon reading, of enjoying the coziness of living with a family and feeling tucked into that unit as we relax and rest in the evenings and on weekends (incidentally I have been teaching them the phrase "couch potato"). In these moments, we un-rush and rest in the shared company -- and it is enough.

In November, Colombia had 2 consecutive festivos so I was looking forward to 2 Mondays for bonus adventuring with friends or family in the surrounding area. A handful of folks and I had been talking about a beach trip for weeks and I was so excited to spend time by the water with some new friends. And yet, the first weekend came and went with no trip -- someone's family visited last minute, someone was too tired, someone was sick. The next weekend came around and my excitement was building...and again there was no trip because the one person with a vehicle couldn't go. I won't deny that I was disappointed -- and yet they were still good weekends. They were not full of grandiose adventure, but I got to meet my host dad's father and celebrate an aunt's cumpleaños. Another afternoon, my host sister, Natalia, and my host mom, Gloria, and I took the bus to the nearby Malecón del Río (essentially a long riverwalk). And so, rather than days spent away from my community, they were family days: ordinary and happy. My plans shifted and changed, but shared company was the constant.

And so I ask myself: what invitation do I have in these changed plans to release my personal agenda and be present with the people around me? How can I shift my expectations and embrace the extraordinary within the ordinary? Without a doubt these may not sound like difficult questions to many, but my design and my context have long allowed me to orchestrate a very self-centered way of life with the resources and independence to organize my free time according to my personal interests. The invitation this year is to step away from that way of living for myself, to loosen my grip on my time and attention, to slow down and do life with my community here. There are growing pains in learning to be more flexible -- but I take that as a sign that it's worthwhile growth.

Music is a big part of the unplanned and informal of life here. I smile on Saturdays when I wake up and my host dad is playing bongos or guiro along with salsa music on one of our big speakers. It isn't glamorous or flashy or planned, and yet I think he is at his happiest in those moments (rather, hours) playing. Equally informal and unflashy, our weekend nights are frequently spent on someone's patio in a ring of plastic chairs with the music turned up, enjoying one another's company. It was our turn to host last weekend as we celebrated Germán's birthday and it was so special to share the night with some of our closest friends from our church. Despite some latecomers delaying the start of the fiesta, we had an asado using the back grill of our house and everyone lingered until about 11pm. Dancing and laughing and going back for seconds on food -- it was unrushed and unfancy and ordinary -- but the shared company of good friends made it extraordinary.

A guiding metaphor that I come back to -- I often find myself orienting God within myself. That is, if I were a circle, I would orient God as a separate concentric circle within my own. I don't know much about theology, but from what I know I would guess that's a pretty small and misleading understanding of the Lord. In moments when I catch myself operating from this mindset, I try to consciously flip those circles so I'm the small circle nested within the larger. It is not a radical idea but it is a grounding idea and it captures some of my learning these last weeks. Likely, this is a feeling I will continue to wrestle with over the course of my YAV year -- releasing my grip on what I wish I could control, on the plans I want to orchestrate. The focus of this year, though, is not on my entertainment or the fulfillment of my self interests -- essentially, it's not about me. Rather, the focus is on the time I share with my community and the relationships we build together. It's an invitation to shift the circles and allow myself to live freely within the vastness of the Holy One.

And I'm grateful for this learning. And in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I want to lift up what else I'm feeling most grateful for -- the most ordinary, and yet extraordinary, things.

* riding the bus in the late afternoon sunlight * laughing at the Fundación with my coworkers as we cook lunch and get to know one another better * singing Feliz cumpleaños at church for whoever has a birthday that week (for now I am the only one who also dances...) * drinking café con leche and reading in the mornings * weekly Rumba class at the gym * my host dad's laugh *flowering trees that shower sidewalks with their pastel petals *