Moments.

We finally arrive at our house that we have been waiting for since we arrived in this country exactly one month ago. Pulling up in our van packed full with suitcases and belongings. Two guitars. Some kitchen items and storage.

A yellow, blue, and green house. Smiling faces as we step out of our van. Women and children at the corner. A child hides behind his mother’s legs.

Coming down the stairs from the rooftop. I walk around my friend who is staring over the wall at the neighbors, smiling. Pick up a coconut to see if we could find a tool to crack it open and drink the coconut water. I turn around again and see my friend standing in the same spot, still staring over the wall, still smiling. She hasn’t made a sound but her hands are moving. I stand on my tiptoes to look at the neighbors and their hands are moving too, smiling.

-

Days later, sitting on the floor of our living room. No furniture yet. Running water, check. Trying to eat our food before it goes bad since we don’t yet have a refrigerator. “Sara!” A child calls my name from the front gate. I feel like I am in Haiti again.

-

Running slowly down the street in long pants and a t-shirt to fully cover my American body in the 95 degree heat. Mostly friendly hellos in the neighborhood. One mom pulls her daughter inside of the gate as we run by. A group of young men turn to watch us and say hello. One man says, “Como estas?” I’m not sure if he knows what language he is speaking.

-

My shoulders speckled like freckles with mosquito bites instead. Nighttime. Sweating even with the fan on and the windows open. A buzzing sound in my ear. Motorcycles honk outside as they drive by. The streetlight comes in through my window. The hard tile floor presses against my hip in the place where my thin mattress gives way a little too much. It is soft in a nice way, but maybe a little too soft in some places.

-

In a clothing store looking for loose pants. Too many workers, not enough customers. The workers follow me a little too closely. Then they talk to one another in the local language as they pass each other, giggling a little. My skin is crawling and I want to run away, but I need to find pants that won’t make me sweat, so I keep looking. They are harmless. Just following too closely for American comfort.

-

Sitting on the porch, praying the rosary. Pour out your anointing in this place, Lord. The Wedding at Cana.. Do whatever He tells you.. I hear some drums in the distance, a procession, but it’s still far away. This morning the procession went by while we were praying in our living room. I heard the drums and saw the elephant through the window. New experiences, a new culture, new language, new people in a new neighborhood.

-

A collection of moments. Jesus, help me to be present in each moment.

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