Me. And The Super Bowl.

In honor of tomorrow's big dance, I'm going to tell you everything I can remember about my experience at the Super Bowl the last time it was in Tampa.

That's right. I was at Super Bowl XXV in 1991.



On the field.

Pre-game, baby.

Yours truly, a Crimson Doll dancerette in high school, was one of a bajillion girls doing ridiculous routines in an effort to entertain the drunk masses prior to the teams taking the field.

I'm fairly certain the pre-game choreographers invited every female dancer over the age of 12 to participate. They hit up high schools dance teams, area dance studios and probably every strip club in a 100 mile radius.

We were herded like cattle, into the stadium, about a month before the big day.

Two women, using bull horns, shouted directions and warned if we missed any of the scheduled practices, we'd be dropped from the performance roster.

We were split into no less than 30 groups and taught several routines.

A tape of Frank Gifford looped continuously as we memorized which hash mark to hover over, when to strum our fake guitar and when to run screaming toward Up With People, one of the musical acts performing pre-game.

My fake guitar playing wasn't convincing enough for the choreographer and the bitch moved me to a group in the back. I was devastated. Little did she know I'd grow up to be a kick-ass Guitar Hero champion.

It was our last practice when we were told we had one more number to learn.

We were ordered into a bunch of lines, marched onto the field and handed red, white and blue umbrellas.

When we opened the umbrellas, an American flag appeared on the field.

So did Whitney Houston.

Pre meth and cocaine.

It wasn't long before word got to the back of the formation (where I was standing) that Whitney was actually ON the field.

Actually singing the anthem.

Bobby Brown (sans parachute pants) was holding her hand.

We were all kinds of giddy and I (again) mentally bitch slapped the choreographer for putting me in the back row. I couldn't see nothin'.

But I could HEAR her. And it gave me chills.

The day of the big game, we were all bussed into the stadium. We wore more makeup than a two-dollar whore and our hair was teased so high I guarantee there wasn't a can of hair spray left in the state of Florida.

It was SUCH a rush, running onto that field and taking our places.

The entire stadium vibrated with energy.

I don't remember much about the routines, it was all a blur.

But I do remember, vividly, the moment our umbrellas opened and the audience recognized the flag.

The fans went INSANE, screaming and cheering, as the Air Force jets flew over head.

The noise got louder as Whitney was introduced and she began to sing.

(If you watch closely, you'll see our umbrellas go up behind her)



My knees actually knocked, I was so moved by the entire experience.

Her voice was flawless. Powerful. Strong.

Patriotism permeated every inch of that stadium.

I stood a little taller.

Held my umbrella a little higher.

I was rooted to the ground and didn't want the moment to end. The stripper - I mean, dancer - behind me, had to nudge me to get me to move.

We didn't get to stay for the game. Instead we were bussed to a nearby hotel where we were fed hot dogs, soda and invited to watch the Super Bowl on a big screen.

An anti-climactic ending, but I still get to say I did something few have ever done.

I saw Whitney sober.

That's saying something....

Language Barrier.

My brain and April's brain are not often on the same wave length.

EVEN if, ultimately, we're saying the same thing.

For instance, she and I discussing how to move a fence panel nearly ended our relationship.

Her way made NO sense to me. My way seemed ridiculous to her. However, we both agreed on WHERE the panel needed to go.

She wasn't wrong. Neither was I.

Our. Brains. Compute. Differently.

We've accepted it. And love each other dearly despite it.

It's rare, but there are times when conversations get REALLY confusing because we're NOT ultimately saying the same thing.

Times when we're nowhere CLOSE to being on the same page. We're in different damn libraries.

For example, the other night, we were at the dinner table.

We'd just come home from the gym and had taken our 3rd or 4th Zumba dance class.

April: "Hey, after you left class to go on the treadmill, I ended up talking to Mary, the instructor. She's really cool."

Me: "She seems cool. Sister has some energy, that's for sure."

April: "I really connected with her. Apparently, she used to be some big wig...a national China store executive. Traveled in limos, made a lot of money, lived the high life. She said one day she woke up, weighed more than 200 pounds and realized she wasn't happy. She started going to the gym early in the morning, because she was self-conscious, and began dropping weight. She loved her Zumba class so much she decided to become an instructor. When she did, she thought long and hard about her life and how unhappy she was in her job. She quit and now teaches fitness classes for a living. Said she makes a fraction of the money, but is a million times happier and healthier. Isn't that amazing?"

Me: "Wow. That is amazing. I love when people follow their heart. Find a passion. What did you say she used to do?"

April: "She was some kind of executive of a big China business."

Me: "I wonder if she's fluent in Chinese..."

Weird look from April.

April, in a tone that indicated she thought I was losing it: "What? Why would she speak Chinese?"

Me: "Well, smarty pants, Kara who manages a case company in China is fluent in the language, so I was just wondering if Mary was too. That's all."

More weird looks from April.

Me: "You SAID she managed a bunch of China stores..."

April: "A national chain, not an international one. I'm missing something big here...."

Me, frustrated: "A national store can be CHINESE!"

A light bulb.

Finally, I thought to myself. She GETS it.

April: "HEATHER, CHINA, LIKE PLATES. NOT CHINA CHINA!"

Me: "Oh, well no wonder you're confused...."

See what I mean...

Had To.

Our big boy, Stewart, in yesterday's snow.

My 25. Cue the Fireworks.

Seems I can't escape the "Tag, You're It" meme, so I've decided to comply.

Here, in no particular order, are 25 completely random factoids about yours truly.

Cue the fireworks.

1. Contacts hate me. They hate my eyes. Even brand new pairs insist on being ripped, made of sandpaper or flopping backwards and onto my brain.

2. Re: fashion, I'm all over the board. Cargo shorts and a tank in the afternoon, heels and girlie dress at night. I refuse to choose.

3. Once, April took me on a 30 mile "surprise bike ride" for our anniversary and after it was over (and I couldn't feel my butt or my hands), I made it VERY clear I'm a "surprise spa" kinda girl.

4. Racist and judgmental people make my stomach hurt. Racist and judgmental people who act accordingly and say it's God's Will make my head explode.

5. I wanted to be Punky Brewster when I was little. I also wanted to be on Kid's Incorporated. I taped all the episodes, memorized and re-enacted them. I coulda been Fergie....

6. The only kind of envelope I'll use has a peel-off back. I saw the Seinfeld episode where the woman died from licking all those wedding invitations. I'm not taking any chances. I'll pay extra for the peel-off kind.

7. It's impossible for me to use a pen and not get it all over myself or the clothes I'm wearing. April has finally accepted this as fact and deals with it by continually stocking our laundry room with every type of stain remover imaginable.

8. In picking paint for my home office, I thought I'd chosen a slate gray. Turns out, it is more easter-egg-blue. I hated it, but was too lazy to take it back. My office is easter-egg-blue. Whatever.

9. I'm grateful to be someone who knows it's possible to find happiness in places other than a bank account. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy having money and the luxuries that come with it. However, I also know if I had to live on little money, I'd know where to look to fill myself back up. Smiles, children, nature, giving, animals, tales of compassion and the human spirit....

10. Walking into spider webs make me scream like a sissy girl. I am not afraid of spiders. Just their webs. I will never lead the way if you go on a hike with me. You have to go first and swing your arms around like a nut job. Only after I feel you've sufficiently cleared the path of any webs will I follow.

11. There is a can of collard greens in my cupboard that I'm sure followed me from college. I hate collard greens. I have no idea why I have the can or why it's made several moves with me. I think after fifteen some years, it's probably time we parted ways.

12. When I was in high school, I had a few warts on my right knee and I had to have them burned off. I wanted them gone because the hair on my knee was nearly an inch long, given I couldn't shave in between the warts. I lived in FLORIDA, so it's not like I wanted to wear pants every day. I was also a dancer and had to wear a uniform on game days. A uniform with a skirt. I'm not sure which was worse...the unsightly leg hair or the big, brown scabs I sported after my doctor visit. Traumatic for a high school senior. I'm telling you...

13. When I'm angry or upset, I clench my jaw so tightly my mouth aches. For a week.

14. I've never been a big fan of poetry, but I like saying "Iambic Pentameter" - just because it's fun to say. And I think it makes me sound smart.

15. One of the first sex scenes I ever saw on TV was in the movie American Werewolf in London. I was in elementary school and my mom made my friend JoAnna and I cover our eyes with a blanket. It was a knitted blanket, though, so we just stretched it far enough to see through it. Rebels.

16. Lucky Charms is my favorite cereal. I can eat an entire box in one sitting. If I'm a guest in your house and you have Lucky Charms, I won't eat all of your cereal, but it's possible I'll eat all the marshmallows. I'll try to leave you some, but I won't be able to stop myself.

17. I love staying in hotels, even if it's for work. Feels super luxurious and relaxing to me.

18. I tie my tennis shoe laces REALLY tightly. It feels weird if my shoes aren't suctioned to my feet.

19. I'm super spontaneous when it comes to travel, but am learning as I age that I'm less comfortable with big life changes. It's because I'm a control freak. I like knowing exactly what's going to happen or how to do something. The universe sends me not so subtle reminders that change is inevitable. I try to remind myself to put on my rose colored glasses when the panic sets in.

20. I have a really deep voice and that seems to surprise people the first time they hear me speak.

21. My granny often says, "If it were easy, anyone could do it." I find myself agreeing with that sentiment frequently.

22. I gave in and read Twilight. And I liked it.

23. I'm considering getting a very small tattoo on the back of my neck, right underneath my hairline. Wouldn't be visible unless I wanted it to be, but I'd know it was there.

24. I've been eating a ton of Tyson's buffalo wings lately. They sell bags of 'em in the frozen section at Walmart. I blame our friend Heather for telling April about them.

25. I truly believe diversity is one of God's greatest gifts to mankind. It's my hope that one day, curiosity will replace fear and misinformation and people will truly begin learning from one another and realize accepting someone else for who they are doesn't mean THEY have to change anything about themselves.

Love Making.

The setup:

Apes and I were sitting in the Jeep, parked outside of Gold's Gym.

We've been relentless in trying to cure our "fluffy not fat" issue, given we're headed to Maui in early February and our bathing suits still won't stretch as much as necessary to cover our bits.

Tanning has also been part of our daily routine, as our bodies are whiter than new fallen snow. Interestingly, it appears as though the tanning has left us with dried, chapped lips.

Of course, we have four barrels of Chapstick at home, so...no harm no foul.

However, April has her own "special" lip gunk in the car. She keeps it in the console. It's in a blue, plastic container, is made with some kind of menthol and makes her lips all gooey and shiny.

Our Conversation:

"Heather, will you hand me my lip stuff?"

"Sure," I said, absently digging around in the console while trying to strap the gym bag to my back.

Less than two seconds after handing her the tube, I heard orgy noises.

"Oooohhh....mhmmmmm...."

I snapped my head in her direction.

Sister had her eyes closed, head tilted toward the heavens and was slowly gliding the tube over her lips, all while making every erotic sound imaginable.

And she wasn't doing it for my benefit. Or for a laugh.

"April?! Is there a reason you're making love to your lip stuff? Seriously? It's indecent...right here in the parking lot!"

Her eyes flew open.

"What? I'm not! I'm just enjoying the moment. Being MINDFUL of it. Why do you have to be so judgmental? I swear..."

I shook my head as I got out of the car. She's such a therapist.

"MOST people would call it observant, Apes. Not judgmental. You perv."

It Changed Me. The End.

If you missed the first seven segments of the series....

It Changed Me. Part One.

It Changed Me. Part Two.

It Changed Me. Part Three.

It Changed Me. Part Four.

It Changed Me. Part Five.

It Changed Me. Part Six.

It Changed Me. Part Seven.

Journal - Final Day

Today is our play day, a chance to unwind and enjoy the sights of Nicaragua before we head home.

With our luggage barely contained in the last few rows of the van, we all piled in, sitting on each other's laps for the ride to the market.

We'd been hearing about this market all week - how inexpensive items were, how we HAD to buy a hammock. I knew I'd be on the lookout for art work. I love colorful pieces and Nicaragua is known for vibrant portrayals of life.

The market was in this huge cathedral building. It was beautiful.



Many of us needed to hit an ATM first, so we walked a block to the nearest bank. Three men with machine guns stood guard outside the bank. It was a little unnerving.

Back at the market, I hardly knew where to start. All of the items were stunning. I bought some clothes for Gage and Cassie, my nephew and niece, a few shirts for myself, some jewelry and a chess set for April.

I took my time selecting the perfect piece of art that fit my budget.

I bought pottery, wallets for my dad and brother and I bucked to peer pressure and bought a hammock so comfortable I nearly fell asleep testing it.

At noon, we all met up at a corner pizza shop and stuffed our faces full of the cheesy goodness. After eating chicken, beans and plantains all week, it was a welcome change.

The bus was packed BEFORE all 20 of us spent hundreds of dollars in the market. We realized we were going to have a problem as everyone made their way back to the bus with several bags and seven-foot hammocks.

The more flexible of the group gumbied up and we folded in best we could. I shared a seat with Carol and I'm certain we're both going to suffer nerve damage.

We were all excited for our next adventure - a zip line tour. Thirteen zip lines would take us through a forest, allowing us to fly from tree to tree.

After signing our life away, we were given helmets, gloves and snapped into a harness. We stopped to take a group picture before heading to the first tree.



We learned there would be seven guides and a guide would always go first so he could help catch us as we zipped from tree to tree.







I held my breath as a guide clipped me to the wire and gave me a shove. It was an incredible rush, flying past the lush Nicaraguan wilderness. I forgot to pull down on the line (to slow myself) and pretty much crashed into the guide waiting to catch me on the platform.

After we had a few zip lines under our belts, we all felt pretty comfortable with the process.

When the guide turned to me and said, "Superwoman?" I thought he was asking me if I felt like her.

Enthusiastically, I nodded YES.

Next thing I know, the guide is clipping me in so that I'm attached from my BACK instead of my stomach. He shoved off and instead of going feet first, I was going head first - as if I were FLYING.

Like Superwoman.



I think it took me a good fifteen minutes to breath after landing on the platform.

The monkeys watching us from a nearby tree helped distract me.

We were so close to them. I was mesmerized.



I thoroughly enjoyed the zip line tour and hated when it ended.

Mostly, I hated it ended because I knew we had an hour drive back to the Best Western where we'd spend the night before our departure from Managua.

The hotel was right across the street from the airport.

Walking through the front door of the hotel was like a rebirth of sorts. I saw the hotel with new eyes. I noted the air conditioning. The comfortable beds. The clean swimming pool. The water fountains. The computers. The electricity. Toilets - with plumbing.

We met the group for dinner in the courtyard and the weather was perfect.

Not quite ready to turn in for the night, we all gathered poolside after our meal, arranging ourselves in a circle.

Taking turns, we shared how we were feeling....emotions ranged from guilt about going home to such excess to relief to see loved ones. There was pain at leaving behind people we've grown to love and care for.

We laughed a lot, recalling favorite memories. We challenged each other to see who picked up the most Spanish.

We held hands, sat in silence for a moment, and each turned inward to reflect on this amazing journey.

I will never forget it.

Or how it changed me.

Thank you for indulging me as I relived this experience. It's inspired me to continue to try and reach Catherine. Previous attempts have been unsuccessful. This has been great fun for me and I hope to be part of another Habitat for Humanity Global Village trip!

It Changed Me. Part Seven.

If you missed the first six segments of the series....

It Changed Me. Part One.

It Changed Me. Part Two.

It Changed Me. Part Three.

It Changed Me. Part Four.

It Changed Me. Part Five.

It Changed Me. Part Six.

Journal - Day Seven

You know things are bad when you find yourself sobbing uncontrollably in an outhouse.

I couldn't help it. I woke up this morning with a sense of dread, knowing today would be our last day with these amazing families. Knowing I'd have to say goodbye to Catherine.

I could hardly see the toilet to pee, the tears were coming so fast and furious.

Our final morning began earlier than most others because we'd planned to take a trip to the local school. We'd brought along a bunch of books to donate and wanted to deliver them in person.

It was quiet in the barn as we moved around, packing our bags and dressing ourselves. Berta hung close, hoping we'd decide to leave something behind. She asked me for my sunglasses, but I had to hold on to them. Not because they were expensive, but because they were my only pair and you really need eye protection when out on the job site.

Calis, the Habitat homeowner from Tennessee who made the trip with us, volunteered to speak before breakfast. She talked about unity and then read a note, thanking each person individually for what they brought to the group. She thanked me for my laughter and ability to keep the group in high spirits. I was humbled and the water works started again. I love this group of people and would have stayed another month if it were an option.



As soon as Calis was finished addressing each group member, I watched her go inside and then heard her sob.

Everyone is having trouble with the idea this is our last day.

At breakfast, Kelle gave Ileana her silver hoop earrings. She cried and cried - both out of thanks and because of the same sadness the rest of us were feeling.

Regan translated as Ileana, in between sobs, told us we're forever a part of her family and that this town will never forget us.

We took a group photo with Ileana's family and Kelle promised to send them a framed copy of it.



After breakfast, we walked to the elementary school. It's behind a pair of gates and caters to 1st-6th graders. Every single student was waiting for us in the courtyard. All wore white, buttoned shirts, navy pants or skirts, white socks and black shoes. Their education is free, but families have to come up with $40 per child for supplies and the uniform.





As we walked through the gates, all the kids started screaming and clapping. Stephanie, Catherine's friend from the job site, immediately ran into my arms as the other kids packed in around us. I knew I wouldn't see Catherine - her family couldn't afford the $40. I made a mental note to change that.



Their classrooms were very similar to ours - artwork hung on colorful walls, lessons were written on blackboards.

We handed out books to each classroom and took photos with every grade.



What happened next, as we re-entered the courtyard, took us all by surprise. We were swarmed by kids wanting us to sign their books. I'm sure it was hysterical to watch - all of us giving autographs. It took a good 1/2 hour to sign all the books and give each student a hug.





As we turned the corner to walk to the job site, I saw Lillian and Catherine sitting on the roadside, waiting for me. My heart caught in my throat.

I gave each of them a hug, trying not to cry. I took off my silver ball earrings and put them in Lillian's hand, curling her fingers into a fist so they didn't fall out. Her eyes got large and she kissed my hand, thanking me before sliding the earrings into her pocket.

Regan translated as Lillian told me Catherine was very upset last night when she learned we were leaving today. She said her daughter cried half the night - I told her I did too.

I squeezed Catherine's hand and ruffled her hair.

At the job site, we checked out our tools and headed to the sand sifter. Catherine wanted to help sift, despite the fact she could hardly lift the shovel. Together, we scooped up the sand and threw it at the screen.

During our 10:30 break, Catherine climbed up on my lap and periodically leaned over to kiss my cheek. Each time she did so, I felt a pain. We'd already been told trying to maintain relationships with the families would be difficult because the government doesn't regulate mail. Often, if you send something, it is rifled through and things are stolen. Many times, it's never delivered. I knew my time with her was winding down and it literally made my stomach hurt.

She pushed my hair back and whispered in my ear. "Amore!"

"I love you, too, Catherine," I said as I pulled her in for a hug.

Lillian and Catherine left the job site early to go home and get ready for the big going away party planned at the community center.

Before we left the job site for the last time, I walked over to Lillian's house, having decided I was going to give her my tennis shoes because all she had were worn out sandals.

I handed Lillian my shoes and some odds and ends for Catherine - rubber bands, my chapstick and the few Cordobas I had in my pocket.

Lillian shook her head, saying "No! Zapatos!" She pointed to my sock-clad feet, not wanting me to walk home without shoes.

"I have more! It's okay," I said over and over. I finally convinced her to take the shoes and promised I'd save her a seat at the party.

As I waited for my group to join me for the walk home, my own words reverberated in my head.

"I have more. I have more."

I have so much I don't even USE most of it. I certainly haven't been grateful for it.

I don't have more of EVERYTHING, though.

These people have me beat when it comes to truly being happy. They've had to find their joy without all the materialist trappings. If I had to live in a tin hut, could I be happy?

We didn't bathe when we got back to the barn, but we did change into our swim suits because we'd be heading to the beach after our going away party.

We loaded our suitcases onto the bus and then each grabbed a bag of goods we packed the night before to leave behind for the homeowner families.

They weren't quite ready inside for us, so we hung out with the families on the porch. Lillian, Lillian's mother and Catherine made their way through the crowd and sat down right beside me.

Lillian was wearing the earrings I'd given her.

Catherine was in a little pink dress with white tights and green plastic sandals. Her hair was pulled back with the pony tail holder I'd given her.

She jumped on my lap and I wrapped my arms around her in a big hug. I couldn't stop myself from thinking that in just one hour, I'd say my last goodbye to her and likely never see her again except for in the millions of photos I took.

As she sat on my lap, I watched her little brown hands reach up to her earrings. Little silver hoops.

My heart stopped when I realized what she was doing.

Those earrings were one of only a few material possessions she owned. I was speechless as Catherine turned around, her tiny earrings in her hands.

She offered them to me. I began to cry as she and her mother put them in my ears.

I made Moses tell them I would keep them in and think of their family every day.

Catherine reached up and wiped the tears from my cheeks.

I touched my new earrings. She reached up and held the necklace I'd given her. We each had something to remember the other by.

The earrings she gave me are worth more than diamonds or gold. I will always cherish them and the bond they represent.

Soon after, we all herded into the back room where Ileana had set up tables for us. This was the first time we'd all eaten together - the Habitat volunteers and the homeowner families.



Lively music filled the space as we took our seats. Catherine and Lillian sat right beside me.

As we began to eat, Regan got up and spoke about how we've all become family. Lillian grabbed my hand and we both had tears in our eyes.

Next, Katrina, the "town mayor," gave a speech, telling us we would always be welcome and that she's worked with many groups, but never felt as close to them as she does ours.

As Ileana made her way to the front of the crowd to speak, we all began clapping. This woman and her family worked their butts off to feed us all week and we wanted her to know it was appreciated.

Immediately she began to cry. She told us it was her pleasure to serve us.

Next, one of the Nicaraguan construction workers got up and very shyly addressed the crowd. He recited a poem by a famous Nicaraguan poet. According to Regan, the sentiment behind the poem was: he wished he was a rock with no feeling because then his heart wouldn't hurt.

The entire room fell apart. Women, Men, Children, American, Nicaraguan. We all cried.

Kelle made her way to the front of the room and told everyone, on our behalf, that this was the experience of a lifetime. She thanked them for being such amazing hosts and told them we had a little surprise.

With Regan's help in translating, she called up each family and handed them the bag of goodies we'd be leaving behind.

We'd had extra clothing left over, enough to make bags for the guys working construction. Kelle called them up too and they accepted their bags, most with tears in their eyes.

Lunch was over - it was time to DANCE!

We'd learned some moves at Nixon's birthday party, so we fit right in, shaking our hips. I pulled Catherine and Stephanie out onto the floor with me and we jumped around like we didn't have a care in the world.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jenny standing near the door, waving us out. My heart dropped.

I didn't think I could say goodbye.

Catherine's grandmother grabbed my shoulders and started sobbing. I followed suit. She held me so tight, talking so fast I think she was praying over me.

Lillian took me from her mother's arms and we held each other tightly. I promised to try and write and prayed she'd get my letters.

Slowly I turned to Catherine, a knot in my throat. I scooped down to pick her up.

Her huge brown eyes were filled with tears. I felt her sob as I held her against my chest. I'm not sure I could love my own child any more than I loved her. I had to make myself let go of her. I was the last of my group to leave.

(My last photo with Catherine's family):


As I walked away, Catherine kissed her necklace and I touched my earrings.

I was a mess. My emotions uncontrollable. I walked alone, back to the barn, crying so hard snot was coming out of my nose. I was glad to be alone. I needed that time.

Instead of going into the barn, I headed back into the outhouse, where again, I broke down and then had to laugh. I was sobbing, in an outhouse.

I pulled myself together and joined the group as we presented Berta, Rauel and Nixon with more parting gifts. We laughed as, in unison, they cheered: "Go VOLS!"

We piled on the bus and I chose a seat next to Skip. As we drove out of town, we waved to everyone as they lined up along both sides of the street.

During the 1.5 hour drive to the beach, I closed my eyes and thanked God for allowing me to be part of such an amazing journey. My emotions bubbled several times, but for the most part, I was all cried out.

Arriving at the beach was a great release. It was a tropical paradise. Thatch huts, horses and young kids selling all kinds of necklaces to tourists.





A group of us hit the water and splashed around in the waves. I routinely reached up to be sure I still had both earrings.

I wrote HABITAT in the sand and we took a group picture as the sun set. Another perfect moment.



Brilliant colors reflected in the water.



After the sun set, we loaded back into the van and drove another hour back to the Habitat office in Managua. We unloaded, ate some dinner and turned im. Everyone was drained, physically and emotionally.

Tomorrow is our playday - and our final day before heading home.

To be continued....
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Today's word from The Gilded Tongue (author: Rod L. Evans, PH.D.)

Emacity (ee-MAS-i-tee): n. from Latin emacitas (fond of buying), from emere (to buy): an uncontrollable desire to buy things.

Example:

Because of Amy's emacity, she had accumulated more than ten thousand dollars of consumer debt.

It Changed Me. Part Six.

If you missed the first five segments of the series....

It Changed Me. Part One.

It Changed Me. Part Two.

It Changed Me. Part Three.

It Changed Me. Part Four.

It Changed Me. Part Five.

Journal - Day 6

I slept so hard last night, I don't think I moved a muscle...that's saying something given our mattresses, which were thin when we arrived, are now like pancakes after being slept on for five nights.

Susan sleeps on the bunk under me and I've teased her pretty regularly. Every night, she puts the next day's clothes on her bed so she doesn't even have to get up to put them on. I told her I was going to check and see if she wrote her name on her clothing tags. "You were that kid at summer camp who had to know where all her stuff was, huh Susan?" I'd tease from my top bunk. Several times I nearly got hit with a towel.

Before breakfast, Ginger talked about what she's learned on this trip. She pointed out we're all good at talking and doing, but not at listening. REALLY listening. We all agreed to sit in silence for five minutes and listen...to our surroundings, to the beating of our own hearts. The meditation helped center us and at the very end, I thought about how much I missed April and the sound of her laughter.

Breakfast this morning: cereal, fresh fruit and toast.

I love watching Ileana, our cook, interact with her family. The kids never just run right by her. They always stop for hugs. Not just little hugs. Ileana scoops them up into her arms, squeezes and smothers them with kisses.

(Ileana's family with Dr. Skip):


As we began walking to the job site, I mentally prepared myself for four hours of shifting sand. When I'd start to groan, I pictured Catherine's face and felt a burst of energy.

It was extremely hot today and I could feel the dirt in my nose.

Once we reached the site, we checked our tools out of the shed and began sifting. After several hours, we were delirious and punchy. Moses farted and we thought it was hysterical. Carol's hat flew off her head and I laughed so hard it hurt. Clearly we were in need of more sleep...

I thought lunch would never come. Yesterday's sun burnt my scalp and ears and I could feel them tingling today.

Lunch: rice with beef and mixed vegetables.

Back at the job site, Lillian satisfied my sweet tooth by inviting us into her home for some pudding she'd made. I was so touched she'd spent her morning making a treat for us. It was also painful, walking into the home I knew she currently shared with Catherine and three other people. The floor was dirt. Chickens ran around everywhere. Four pieces of tin comprised the walls. I said a silent prayer, thanking God they'd have a more stable and weather resistant home soon.

(Lillian and Catherine's house during the pudding break):





(Inside Lillian's home):


Lillian was so proud to host us in her home and we thanked her profusely as we took samples of pudding. It was delicious!

(Lillian, in the orange shirt, posing with Habitat volunteers):


Feeling rejuvenated, we went back to work sifting. Occasionally I'd spin myself in circles, trying to create a small breeze.

During our afternoon break, I fed my crackers to several of the dogs that had been hanging around the site all day. They looked so hungry and gobbled them up. One of the homeowners presented each of us with a tea/coffee mixture that she'd made as a thank you. She also gave Skip the bracelet she'd been wearing - a brown leather band with beads on it. We'd been told that toward the end of the week, the homeowners would likely try and show their thanks by giving gifts. We were all very moved by their generosity.

Catherine wasn't at the site this afternoon and I really missed her.

Moses, Carol and I continued to shift sand and talk music. Moses loves American music and Carol promised to let him listen to her Ipod when we got back to the farm. He was like a kid waiting for Christmas.

Walking home, I saw Catherine at the end of her driveway, waiting for us to walk past. My expression matched hers as smiles spread across our faces and she jumped in my arms and wouldn't let go of my neck.

I put her on my knee and she watched as I took off the necklace she's been eying and playing with all week. I put it over her head, adjusted it to fit her neck and told her I loved her. She smiled so brightly, hugged me and kissed my cheek. I wanted to cry, my heart was so full of love for this child. I don't know how I'm going to handle leaving her. Leaving everyone.

(Catherine):


We took one of our last baths in the river and complained about how much we're going to MISS our group clean up time. We'd gotten so used to our routine on the farm. Regular, solitary showers are going to feel so boring.

Dinner: beans and shredded pork.

Moses translated as Ileana and her husband asked if we'd take a group photo with them tomorrow. We told them we'd be honored.

The moon is stunning tonight. It's like there's a rainbow halo around it.

Back at the farm, we began coming to terms with the fact we'd be leaving. Everyone sifted through their clothes and personal items, deciding what to leave behind and donate to the community. By the time we were finished, the entire porch was covered with stuff. We separated it all into bags for the families and hoped it would be enough to last them a while.



Earlier in the day, I'd given my jeans to Berta. I knew she really wanted them and I really wanted her to have them.

We also wrote notes to all the families and workers. Moses and Regan translated them for us. I wrote to Lillian, Catherine and the rest of her family. I really wanted Lillian to know how much she and Catherine meant to me. I told her I hoped, one day, to be as good of a mother as she is and have as much love in my heart as she does.

Fairly late in the night, we heard something outside the barn. A family we'd never seen before walked up to the porch, asking for the "doctor." They'd come from a few miles away because they'd heard Skip was tending to medical needs. Their son had some kind of fungus. There wasn't much Skip could do for him, but he did give him some cream.

Soon after the family left, a woman and her daughter came up to the porch, looking for Ginger. Apparently Ginger had bonded with the young girl and they'd come to give Ginger a note with their address and request for money if possible. Ginger thanked them and then took the gold hoops out of her ears and handed them to the little girl.

About an hour later, Nixon fell on the porch and busted his head open. I'm not sure what we, or this town, would have done without Dr. Skip!

(Nixon's family and Dr. Skip):


After Nixon got bandaged up, we returned to our notes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a rat scurry across Carol's bed. I screamed and then laughed because I've never seen so many people move so fast.

Berta came running in and Moses translated what I'd seen. He then said: "She says, yes, there are many big rats in here."

We were dying. Thankfully it was our last night - I'm not sure how things would have gone if we'd seen a rat the first night. I thought Kelle was going to come unglued. I laughed for a good ten minutes - the kind of laugh you can't stop.

Berta just came back in and handed me a note she wrote herself. I called Moses over to translate.

She wrote: She's so glad God brought me into their lives and she's thankful for all the love that I've shown Nixon.

I got a little emotional and left my bunk to find and hug her and Nixon.

I dread saying goodbye tomorrow. I truly dread it.

Tomorrow - Day 7

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Today's word from The Gilded Tongue (author: Rod L. Evans, PH.D.)

Xlyoid (ZY-loyd): adj. from Greek xylon (wood): resembling wood; woody.

Example:

The tree was not wood at all but fiberglass painted to appear xyloid.

It Changed Me. Part Five.

If you missed the first four segments of the series....

It Changed Me. Part One.

It Changed Me. Part Two.

It Changed Me. Part Three.

It Changed Me. Part Four.

Journal - Day 5

So much happened today! I'm only now finding time to write and we're all in bed.

After several nights in the barn, we've adapted to the roosters and hardly hear them anymore. Their cackling is simply background noise at 4am.

I pretty much have my morning ritual down pat. I can lather myself in sunscreen and put my sports bra on at the same time.

This morning, Bill addressed the group and it was very sweet. He'd been thinking about how our culture can be stingy with love - we don't express or say it enough. He believes he's on this trip not to help others, but to learn from those who have little else BUT love. We all got emotional as Bill made a commitment to love out loud more honestly and frequently.

This morning's breakfast: fried eggs, beans and carmalized plantains. YUM.

This morning, Berta told us it was Nixon's birthday. It gave us pause because several of us remembered her telling us his birthday was in March. We learned, from Regan, that often adults will tell volunteer groups their children are having birthdays in hopes of receiving much needed money or clothing. No one took offense - rather, we all kind of understood and promised Berta we'd celebrate Nixon's birthday later that evening.

The kids who live alongside the road to the job site have our schedule down pat. They wait for us to pass by, knowing full well we have pockets full of candy. Af first, they were shy. Now, they race each other and mob us, holding their hands out, saying "Thank you! Thank you!"



We couldn't wait to get to the job site this morning and finish digging holes. We were ready to move on to our next task, whatever it was.

I worked with Moses again and we had a ball teasing each other and playing rock/paper/scissors to see who had to jump in the hole and clean it out. The rest of our group began standing the rebar structures up in the completed holes. Apparently the rebar will provide much needed support to the houses.

(The outhouse we used when on the job site):


Lillian and several men had begun to mix cement. To do this, they'd dig a circle in the ground and make an inverted volcano out of dried cement. They'd pour a little bit of water in the center and begin scooping cement into the water, stirring as hard and fast as they could. The amount of strength necessary to mix large amounts of cement this way should be noted.



Once the rebar was standing in the holes we'd dug, a group of people poured cement over the rebar base to make sure it was secure.



At 10:30 on the dot, we all gathered under the tent and devoured fruit cups and water. A local resident walked up to our tent carrying what he called "enchillaras" - crunchy corn tortillas. They were in plastic baggies, sitting in some kind of juice. He was selling the baggies for two Cordobas. The group purchased a few and passed the m around the circle. I took a small bite and immediately, my mouth was on fire. Only then did I hear the "juice" was Jalepeno juice.

Lillian was laughing so hard she wiped tears from her eyes. She shook her finger in my face and said, "No picante! No picante!"

After we'd been back to work for about an hour, I turned around, looking for my water bottle. I couldn't find it anywhere. I knew I'd placed it right beside the hole I was digging. One of the homeowners saw me searching for it and took me by the hand. He led me to a tree - where he'd placed it under some shade so it wouldn't get so hot. I'm telling you, these people have taught me so much about giving and selflessness.

I did a happy dance the moment we finished digging our last two holes. Not only were we finished with that task, but it was lunch/break time!

Lunch: rice with what tasted like a sweet spaghetti sauce. Ileana also served us some freshly squeezed juice. I actually liked it so much I didn't even have any Diet Coke.

We had about an hour to kill before going back to the job site and my eyes were really heavy. Heavier than they've been all week. I think the labor and heat finally took their toll. Instead of journaling, I plopped myself in the porch hammock and took a good, solid nap. When I woke up, my skin was tingling and sticking to the hammock strings. I'd gotten a lot of sun this morning.

I had just enough time to reapply sunscreen before we headed back to the site.

Moses talked to the foreman and learned our next task. Sifting the pebbles out of cement. While we were gone, they'd built a huge sifter and our job was to take shovel fulls of cement and throw it at the sifter. The pebbles dropped to the ground and the fine sand that would comprise the cement/mortar would pass through. In the two hours we threw sand at the sifter, we had only a small pile of cement to show for it. More than once my mind wandered to Home Depot and thinking nothing of buying a bag of cement. It never occurred to me that people made their own like this.





I kept my eyes peeled for Catherine and saw her emerge from behind the tin walls she shared with her family. She ran toward me and landed squarely on my back. Seeing her is my favorite part of the day.

She planted herself on my lap during our afternoon break and I let her try on my sunglasses.

She pointed to a dog and kept saying something in quick Spanish. Moses translated. She was pointing to her dog and his name was Donkey. Donkey. I love it. Donkey did not love me, though. I tried to pet him. He tried to bit me.

(Catherine and Donkey):


After several hours of sifting sand, the work day ended and we trudged home. I actually considered the fact I missed digging footers.

As we closed in on the barn, we heard music playing loudly. Nixon's birthday party was in full swing on our porch. Every person living within a mile radius was there, singing, dancing and waiting for us to return.

Regan told Berta we'd return to the party after a quick dip in the creek to clean off. Feeling refreshed and and rejuvenated, we rejoined the party.

Nixon was freshly bathed and all dressed up. Every time we took a picture of him, he threw his hand to his forehead. His father explained, through Moses, that Nixon was saluting us.



Of course, we saluted back.

We sang happy birthday in English; the rest of the group followed suit in Spanish.

There was a cake (not sure where it came from) and lots of icing all over Nixon's face.



Moses began playing DJ and the porch became a dance floor. The residents began pulling us out of our seats and teaching us some local dance flavor. They moved their hips in ways that convinced me they weren't attached to the rest of their bodies.

I was super surprised when Lillian and Catherine showed up - they joined us on the dance floor, twirling and spinning around.

(Carol and Nixon on the dance floor):


At one point, I was sitting on the bench and saw Nixon's dad say something to him and then point to me. Nixon ran over to me and kissed me smack on the lips. My heart melted. I wrapped him up in a hug and said, "Happy Birthday!"

We all hated when dinner time rolled around and we had to leave.

Dinner: hot tortillas, hamburger, tomatoes and beans. So far, my favorite meal.

We ate quickly so we could get back to the party.

As we were leaving, Ileana and her husband asked Jenny to provide them with a list of all our names so they could pray for us every night. At every turn, these people remind us of grace and giving.

When we returned, the guests were gone, but Nixon and his parents were waiting for us and still in great spirits. We danced some more and then presented Nixon with some presents we'd managed to scrounge up earlier in the day.

We gave him candy, some stickers and books we brought with us and a Tennessee Volunteers t-shirt that came to his knees. He loved it all. We spent about twenty minutes trying to teach him how to say: "Go VOLS!"





What a night. I loved hanging out with other towns folk and getting to experience more of their culture. I'm sure the combination of sifting cement and swinging my hips will mean debilitating pain tomorrow, but I don't care. Totally worth it.

I have a cramp in my hand. Gotta stop. More tomorrow.

Day Six - continued tomorrow!

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Today's word from The Gilded Tongue (author: Rod L. Evans, PH.D.)

Rhathymia (ruh-THY-mee-uh): n. from Greek rhathymos (light hearted, easy-tempered, carefree): the state of being carefree: light-heartedness.

Example:

Beer commercials have traditionally presented people as delighting in festive rhathymia.

It Changed Me. Part Four.

If you missed the first three segments of the series....

It Changed Me. Part One.

It Changed Me. Part Two.

It Changed Me. Part Three.

Journal - Day 4

Woke up at the butt crack of dawn again, thanks to our roving rooster.

There was a quiet ease in the group this morning, something I attribute to having a day of work under our belt.

I pulled my clothes off the barbed wire line (we'd washed our clothes in the river) and noted my socks were still foul. They were dry, but stiffer than cardboard. I pulled them over my feet, determined to get one more day out of them.

I attempted to put on my tennis shoes, but they were soaking wet from yesterday's dip. Carol had an extra pair of kicks and was willing to let me dirty 'em up.

Ileana switched things up on us for breakfast this morning. On the table, boxes of Corn Flakes. I poured myself a heaping bowl, picked up a blue pitcher and poured myself some milk. I took a bite and paused, something wasn't right.

Hot milk.

I slowly swallowed, turned to Moses and asked if hot milk was normal. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Yep."

Several spoonfuls later, I got used to the hot milk. It wasn't terrible.

After breakfast, the group fell into a steady rhythm as we walked to the job site. There was a breeze today and I quickly thanked God for it. I even asked for a little more.

Several homeowners made the walk to the job site with us and I really got to know Lillian, the mother of Catherine, the little girl I bonded with yesterday. Moses translated for us and we easily conversed and traded pats on the shoulder.

(During our walk, we had to scoot to the side of the road so he could pass):


(One of the houses we pass on our walk to the job site):


Lillian, Moses and I worked together. Moses broke up the soil and Lillian and I scooped it out of the footer. Moses was kind enough to continue translating and I learned that Lillian has been waiting to buy a house for seven years. She has three kids - two boys and Catherine. Her husband works seven days a week and earns 80 Cordobas a day (the equivalent of a few US dollars). They have to pay to send their children to school and it eats up most of their income.

She pointed across the field, to four pieces of tin that formed one square room and said that's where her family lived. I could hardly breathe. They slept on the hard ground, with the chickens. Lillian began speaking emphatically, pointing to Moses and then to me.

"She wants me to tell you that she can't thank everyone enough for coming all this way to help her community," said Moses.

I couldn't stop the tears. I truly didn't feel worthy of all the thanks. This was like a vacation for us. We'll all go back to our lives of excess. If anything, I felt like I was there to learn humility, patience and gratitude.

Like all of the other Nicaraguan workers, Lillian worked like a dog, never stopping for a minute to rest. Not only did she work with us, but helped out on other houses if they were behind in digging footers or tying rebar. This community truly is one large family.

I was waist deep in a footer when I heard all kinds of commotion. A large snake made an appearance and several people began hitting it with a shovel. I can't stand to see any living creature hurt. However, we were warned not to judge the culture or decisions made by our hosts, so I simply turned away and kept digging.

Lillian and Moses talked for several minutes in Spanish before Moses told me she wanted to know if we'd be leaving our clothes behind like other groups had. He said she didn't want me to know she was asking. I explained I didn't know what the group would decide, but I'd be happy to leave behind as much as I could.

I noticed Lillian's hands were covered in blisters. I retrieved a few band aids from my backpack and handed them to her. She swiftly tore them open, walked toward me and tried to apply them to my hands. I had to fight tears - again. She never considered they were for her, and was only too happy to dress my blisters. I took the band aids from her and applied them to her fingers.

She smiled as if I'd given her a new car and gave me a hug. We held on for a long time.

We heard the 10:30am break time call and headed over to the tent and chairs. This time, we made sure everyone took a break and shared in the refreshments. We sat in a circle and Regan stood in the middle. He suggested we ask each other questions and he'd translate.



It was a fabulous idea.

They asked us where Tennessee was and what we expected Nicaragua would be like before we came.

They wanted to know if Tennessee was cold.

The group bantered back and forth and by the end of break, there was a definite comfort level that didn't exist before. Just 15 minutes of Q&A cemented friendships and the group walked, arm in arm, back to work.

(Helping Hands):




The fat blisters on my hands hurt like a bitch and I had to get creative with my grip on the bucket and shovel.

(Norman, one of the Nicaraguan guys, took a break. Check out his SNL shirt!)


By the time lunch rolled around, I was starving. Ileana had set up tables out back and I have to say, it was my favorite meal to date. She served us a rice/chicken/tomato mix and I couldn't get enough of it.

After lunch, we headed back to the farm for the rest of our afternoon break. Kelle and Jenny began separating the shirts, hats and other items that we'd brought with us to leave as gifts for the families.

I could hardly wait to get back to the job site because I knew Catherine would be home from school and waiting for us.

The second we turned the corner, I saw her. She began running full force down the street and right into my arms. I can't explain the connection I have with this child. I can't. She was glued to my side all afternoon and while it made digging more difficult, I wouldn't have it any other way.

During our afternoon break, I french braided Catherine's hair and her mother, Lillian, loved it. I began to drool as they started to pass out snacks which included Diet Cokes. I gave my crackers to Catherine, who was sitting in my lap, and debated only a moment about whether to share my soda with her. I figured I'd share if she wanted some and the child drank every bit of it in one gulp. Anyone else, I would have hurt. It only made me love her more.

I could tell I'd need to shave again - she was sitting on my lap and lifting her legs off my thighs - the hair was prickling her.



Catherine's buddy Stephanie showed up and the two were relentless, wanting their photo taken so they could see themselves in the camera. They kept yelling, "PHOTO! PHOTO!"

(Catherine and Stephanie):


The two girls played as I dug and often yelled, "HEATHER!" I loved hearing them yell my name.

After finishing up for the day, I assured them I'd be back tomorrow and our group headed back to the river for our daily swim.

Every time we walk home, kids line the street to watch us pass.





Once in the river, I did Catherine a favor and shaved my legs. I find it funny how at ease we all are now. We know who's had bowel movements, who shaved when, what others eat and if they have blisters.

All clean, we gathered on the porch until dinner time. I tried to pop a few of my blisters, but no go.

Walking to the community center, we noticed it seemed the electricity was out. We were right. We walked in and there were candles on the table. It was actually really beautiful. We ate a dinner of fried plantains, beans/rice/tomatoes and something similar to fried bologna.

Everyone was pretty exhausted, so we turned in early. Not long after everyone crawled into their bunks, Jenny said, very calmly: "Hey, Ginger? How do you feel about spiders?"

She got everyone's attention real fast. Including Ginger's. She was on the top bunk and RIGHT above her head was a HUMONGOUS spider. I swear it looked like a black widow. Ginger moved so fast she was a blur, climbing down the ladder and hitting the floor. We yelled for the manly men and they killed it. Again, I had to look away. However, I did join the group in spraying every inch of the barn with bug spray and I still feel like things are crawling all over me.

I've got to get some sleep. Till tomorrow!

Day 5 - continued tomorrow!

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Today's word from The Gilded Tongue (author: Rod L. Evans, PH.D.)

GLABROUS (GLAY-brus): adj. from Latin glaber (bald): i. having no hairs or projections; ii. smooth or bald as in galbrous scalps or leaves.

Example:

Japanese women are used to seeing men with glabrous chests.