two months

Today marks 2 months since I left Nicaragua. It has been a whirlwind of emotions, reunions, and surprises along the way. This past week was no different.

Friday started out wonderful. I had lunch with my old friend Sarah, with whom I co-led a bible study in college for 2 years, along with two other friends from Trinity, at Panchito's (which, btw, has some of the best breakfast tacos in all of SA). Then, in an attempt to escape the South Texas heat, I headed downtown to check out the American Sabor exhibit at the Museo Alameda. American Sabor is a fabulous historical yet hands-on exhibition about the many strands of Latin music that have woven their way into the fabric of US culture (from mambo to salsa to Latin rock/punk to Tejano) over the last 60 years. There are oral history interviews, song samples, a dance floor, video performances of famous musicians of all the genres, and more! It was just delightful to be standing in a room dedicated to celebrating a positive aspect of Latin America's contribution to our culture today (especially when so much media attention is only focused on the problems caused by illegal immigrants, for example. But I digress.)

I walked out afterwards into the stifling South Texas heat and didn't even care. I had just paid $2 for 3+ hours of beautiful enriching culture and I was looking forward to a quiet evening at home, or maybe a last minute social outing (I still like those more than the planned kind). Everything, however, was about to change.

I headed north out of town towards 35, quickly realized I wasn't going to be able to make the 281N cutoff and slightly frustrated, headed toward an exit. Rush hour traffic was quickly backing things up, and I just wanted to be home. A little emotional, I cut back downtown and headed up Broadway. I had almost made it to my turn at Hildebrand when suddenly out of nowhere a car was crossing in front of me. I had no time to brake, nor even really think. I slammed into her. Next thing I know my airbag is in my face, steam and smoke is coming out of my engine, and the folks in the car behind me are helping me out of my vehicle. I am a mess. I am crying. In shock. Disbelief. Horror.

It was my first accident. Thanks to the kind strangers, I got my car off the road, and then the police came and took our statements, my car was towed, and then my dear friend Paul (thank you!!) came to pick me up and take me home. After crying for almost 2 hours, I finally called my insurance company (and hers).

It's been a long week since then. I've felt the full measure of emotional trauma that comes with having one's life flash before one's eyes. The fear of driving. The aches and pains that come with a major accident. The stress of bureaucracy. The beginning of treatment and healing. And the blessings of friends who have called or written and offered to help. Thank you--you all know who you are.

[Today also marks another important event--the return of my dear roomie from Nicaragua, Andrea, to the USA. The photo in this post is one of my favorite memories we shared--our first trip to Ometepe together for her birthday.]