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THE NEXT HUG
It’s crazy how
quickly our children grow up. All so differently, tho we seem to raise
them all the same way. Sam, being the first, as most first born children
do, probably had to take on more responsibility and feel the need to do some
trailblazing. But as a mother, no matter the confidence my children
exude, I worry. In high school, every night they go out I just
pray. As each of the kids go off to college, I still worry...about their
decisions, their safety. I thought that finally as they graduated from
college, and they are 21, that I’d be able to relax a little. So when Sam
said he was applying to the Peace Corps, and when he was accepted and then
assigned to Nicaragua, I realized that just wasn’t going to happen just
yet. We mothers really never get to breathe freely because our kids are
always our “children.” So I spend a lot of time praying for their
protection, as it is out of my control.
That is all
to say, that after almost a year of praying for Sam in a strange land, where he
initially spoke no “Nica” Spanish, and was experiencing a pretty isolated life,
J and I took off for Central America to see our boy and try to experience some
of what he was living.
The
anticipation of seeing Sam was overwhelming. As J mentioned in his blog, as we
flew over the dense mountain ranges of Nicaragua, we looked at each other with
the exact same thought: Wow, imagine being Sam, or any PC volunteer, peering
out of the window and down at what was to become your home for the next 27
months. A kind of no-turning-back feeling…and a bit of self doubt.
So I worried a little more, and couldn’t wait to wrap my arms around him and
take care of him for the next week.
When
we landed and started walking through the airport, I started feeling a little
unsure of how exactly I could take
care of him in this place. I
speak not a word of Spanish, and this was not Europe where so many people speak
English and at least can point you in the right direction. I felt so out of
place and nervous myself. Where was Sam? I see no blond hair
anywhere. What if he isn’t here and we got our information crossed?
How will we rent a car and get to him? Our phones don’t work here. I have to find him now or I will faint!
And
then…alack and alas…there he was. Long curly blond hair, mustachioed,
with the biggest grin I have ever seen him sport. His smiling eyes! The joy and the sense of relief for me was
like no other moment I’ve experienced. The way he walked toward us with
the most amazing confident stride (all the while smiling ear to ear), presented
to me a Sam that was indeed all grown up – emotionally, physically,
independent. My eyes welled up…and
then…I got that hug. I think it lasted 20 minutes, didn’t it? I
couldn’t let go! It was like coming
home. And it’s a pretty great feeling
when your kid is as happy to see you as you are to see him. Something I’m
likely to never forget.
It
was right about then that I started to realize who would be protecting
whom. I think it is safe to say that Sam suddenly became parents to J and
me. (Ok, especially me.) Our son at that moment jumped in the front
seat, literally and figuratively, and took us for a week long ride. I sat
in the back for the first time ever – and frankly, gladly so. Sam was our
tourguide, our interpreter, our historian, our meal planner, our current events
updater - our
host. He got our car, negotiated terms at restaurants, hotels, and
roadside pulperias. He translated/explained everything as we went
along. We had never even heard him speak Spanish – and now he was
blowing our minds! He said he wasn’t feeling like his knowledge of the
language was where he wanted it to be yet.
Hard to believe.
So
for the next 6 days, as we traveled to his home town and
thru the countryside, J drove and Sam navigated and I sat in the back with
either my head stretched up between them in conversation, or with my
camera sticking out of the back window like a periscope, all the while absorbing
the landscape and stories with which Sam regaled us. J typically asked a
million questions, and Sam gave complete and comprehensive answers, whether it
be about the geography, politics, history, or local lore. He was a well of
information - and everything that left his lips was thoughtful and engaging.
I have to say, we spent an inordinate amount of time in the car, and
there really was never a moment that I was bored. It's when we learned
the most about Sam and his temporary home country. All those hours
provided the three of us with a very rich experience. (And it was a
beater jeep I might add...you would laugh out loud if Hertz had that jalopy there
waiting for you at JFK! But...it was perfect!) And as we drove, pretty much
the whole time, I was trying to focus my lens as I watched a million profound
scenes/frames flash before me!
But...I
need to go back to the first night. The most startling, the most
eye-opening. By the time we left the airport it was dark. While Sam knows
his territory, we did not, and the first time you drive thru the streets of
Managua, it is scary. Poverty is scary. In the darkness, everyone seems
dangerous. Cracking cement homes all in a row with open air windows and
people just kind of lurking. A lot of bare feet, and shirtless men,
garbage strewn everywhere. Cars with more than several people squeezed inside
driving thru red traffic lights. I felt
like a stranger in a strange land, while Sam directed J thru the inner
city. Clearly a tourist, I had to be
discreet with my big lens. A constant
reminder of who we were. The whole week I basically had to defer to Sam as to
whether I should put it away or not, or if it was too inappropriate or
invasive.
We stopped at what Sam referred to as a Nicaraguan
Walmart on the way out of town to stock up Sam’s house. But in his humble way,
he was reluctant to spend our money.
Moreover, worth mentioning, without a refrigerator, he was limited on
buying fresh foods. He also doesn't want to have any more than his
neighbors have. He wants the full experience, which clearly he has
achieved.
After
a bit of a drive on rundown paved roads, we hit the cement cobblestones (one of
several oxymorons throughout our travels) that led us into Sam's quaint town of
Villa El Carmen. It happened to be a big night there, as there was a live
concert going on and it seemed as if the entire town was on the street.
We met the host family that Sam lived with for the first 3 months upon
arriving in VEC briefly and then entered Sam's castle. A pretty wrought iron door that leads into a
bright orange front room, then into his living space. Whoa. The colors and
the door were most deceiving. I don't know quite how to describe the
interior, pretty basic and dark at that moment, so here are a few photos.
Sam let us sleep in his bed with the net.
The bathroom - or toilet - and utility size sink - are to the rear of the
house, a quick few steps through an open air cement patio. Not exactly the way
a mother wants her child to live, but to Sam? He was proud of it and we
had to quickly get over our shock and love it, too. If he is happy, then
we are happy. However, perhaps glad we had only planned one night there.
The truth is, it’s not that I wanted out, but I wanted to get him out – to spoil him a
little...and take him to a hot shower and clean white linens ("Carey, get
out your cane..."). I wanted him to
experience Nicaragua in a different way for a change.
Even more than the house he lives in, it was the
scarcity of what we consider every day needs that he lacked. He had no paper
towels or napkins, as that just means more garbage that he will have to burn in
his backyard. Instead, he uses rags (from one of his old favorite
shirts!) over and over. He has under a handful of flatware and
cups/glasses/plates. The (lack of) cleanliness
in general is a little tough to take. Like he commented a few blogs ago, if
some crumbs fall to the floor, it won't be long before a critter cleans it up
for him. But again, he is healthy as a horse, and happy and proud to have
his own place. Sam’s castle. He
appreciates what he has and not once ever, that night or all week, did he ever
complain about not having anything…well, except he especially enjoyed bacon
over the next few days!
I
won’t go into detail about our traveling days and where we went. (J covered a lot of that in his blog. And if
you haven’t read it, go back a few posts.
It is an awesome account of our week and our sentiments.) But what I want to note is Sam’s posture and
stride. His confidence is what had me
awestruck the most. As you might
imagine, I walked behind my men most of the time…no, not because I’m a
woman!…because I have my camera and am a little obsessive. But having that viewpoint of Sam simply had
me in constant admiration, and feeling safe.
It didn’t matter that they were the only blonds in sight, or that they
were clearly tourists seemingly to be taken advantage of, oh no. I can assure you NOBODY would mess with
Sam. He is my sweet, darling, commanding son.
And
so much of that is his being on his own these last 14 months. It is all up to him – his inclination to do
this on his own for starters. It is a
very singular, rather isolating experience.
And what you do with your free time, and the relationships you make, the
respect you have for others, and the integrity and earnestness with which you
put into each endeavor, forms who you are.
You have no choice but to learn what you are made of. I couldn’t be more in awe with how he is
“becoming.” I have so much respect for
him.
On a lighter note, what was also heartwarming to
see was Sam’s kind of giddiness at every meal, in front of a TV watching
Seinfeld, having a beer that wasn’t a Tona, and providing him with a hot
shower. He mentioned that in the week we
were together, that was more hot showers than he’s had in a year. We went to beautiful resorts and restaurants,
crazy crowded marketplaces, natural springs, volcanic islands, stretches of
beach, and got lost on some scary back roads…just the three of us. Our conversation never let up – and Sam was
our man. He took care of us every step
of the way.
And right now he is on his way back to the States
for a two-week visit. He arrives in JFK
this afternoon - and I just talked to him in Miami! He’s coming HOME! He’ll be my boy again. Hmmm…will I be his protector?
And guess what this all means? I am
getting that hug again. My eyes are welling up... I simply cannot wait.
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