Tidbits

It took me an hour and a half to get through customs in Uganda, and I didn't meet up with Lanyero until 11:30.  We had a two hour ride back to her house, and I was operating on maybe an hour of sleep in who knows how many hours. 

Lanyero asked me if I wrote poetry, surprised, I said yes.  She requested that I write a poem for the Relief Society activity on Saturday about Mary, the mother of Christ.  I agreed, and I wrote a poem, even though I was horribly embarrassed.  I usually write poetry about heartbreak, and writing it for a bunch of strangers was not what I had in mind.  I have since deleted the poem, which I feel a small amount of regret about, but not enough to try to conjure up what I wrote. 

I learned that you will agree to practically anything when driving the bumpy roads of Uganda at 12:30 am in a complete stranger's car who you will be living with for the next two weeks. 

In any case, I do like to write poems, and although it's a little vulnerable to be doing this at all, I have written a few lines that I just love:

"I went home feeling broken and unfixable, and you came out of the blue.  Carrying only a hammer, but was enough to fix me.  I didn't know it would eventually shatter me, since everything is a nail."

"What happens when you're in a foreign country, so the only reading you can do is between the lines."

"The tired part of me nods, and knows that it was never about the equator."

"And I just have to ask, is there anything lonelier than the Cafe Rio line on a Monday after work?"

"I feel like they are chinks in my armor that leave me exposed, but I wonder if those small holes are letting God in."

"Maybe the secret truly is living long and existing wide and hoping to find a spot that is large enough to allow you to breath deep breathes, instead of absent-minded sighs."

xo. Elise
 

TBH

My body still aches everywhere, and I am just assuming it's because it is still trying to figure out what time zone I'm in.  I realized that I will be sleeping in my own bed for the first time all year tomorrow.  I am slightly terrified about moving back down to Provo, so I am quietly contemplating just living with my parents forever.  Hey Mom and Dad, I would be a great houseguest, right? 

I told my sister that I feel like I have been on a boat for the past few months.  I remember my 22nd birthday was actually kind of exhausting because everything seemed to be changing and different.  Moving out, leaving for Spain, ending college--it all seemed too much.  Ever since then, everything has had a sense of temporariness which is tiring, but also comforting.  Nothing is permanent, nothing has to stay the same, if it's bad, it will soon be over, if it's good, it's enough to survive on. 

I didn't know if I wanted Spain in my life, and now I am shockingly sentimental and searching for small memories and reminders.  I was positive I wanted Uganda in my life, and now I look at pictures, still a little surprised that I survived.  I knew I wanted a European trip to happen, and I am still really tired, but very happy. 

Someone asked me what I've been up to, and I didn't even know how to answer.  That is a little discombobulating, but also soothing.  Permanence can hurt and seem like a tidal wave.  I don't necessarily advocate for constant change, but when you are feeling very uncomfortable with your identity, it is a really great way to numb your panic. 

Part of me wants to live free and open, without chocolate chip cookies or social media to protect me.  The other part of me wants to just. keep. running. 

A really wise and mature part of me knows that the not starting is actually much scarier than just starting.  A job, an apartment, a social life will all anchor me, but right now it feels like it will drown me (oohhh dramatic metaphors?  I like it). 

All this to say, I'M FREAKING OUT. 

How is your Tuesday evening going?

xo. Elise

4 Years

I just want to take a moment to recap college.  Lol, can't actually do that in one blogpost, but wow, such a happy four years for me.  I was so excited about college. It is something you work towards for the longest time, and I am happy to report it is even better than I imagined.  I remember after my first semester being in shock that life could be that good.  That college was better than everyone said.  That it would be so much fun.  The day my parents left me at BYU, I walked around campus, and I walked to the Tanner Building.  I was limping because of my half marathon the day before, but I opened the doors, and there was just a whoosh of air.  I have always loved that building.  There are fountains on nearly every floor and an entire roof full of windows.  It always seems just a little bit warmer, and I think it reminds me of the National Gallery in D.C., and I just love it.  I started walking down the stairs, and I just felt like my dreams were going to come true.  Such a small memory, one where I was mostly freaking out about the fact that my parents had actually left, but there was so much promise in that blue building. 

I took a moment on Friday to go back there and just feel the power there.  It's humbling to think about what has happened over the past four years.  So many aspects of my life are normal now, that I forget the miracles.  I truly felt such happiness and truly felt despair.  I didn't know I could feel that perfect or feel that hopeless.  I didn't know I could make such good friends and then be strangers in a few months.  I didn't know that I could function on that little sleep.  I didn't know that I was actually really great at throwing parties or making slide decks or baking chocolate chip cookies. 

I didn't know I would graduate college having visited 21 countries.  I didn't know that I would receive a full-ride scholarship that would dictate my full-time job (or what I did with my summer vacations).  I didn't know I would have four internships and participate in two study abroads.  I didn't know I would actually go and work on a development project.  I didn't know I would run nine half marathons.  I didn't know I would compete in four case competitions.  I didn't know I would get into the program of my dreams.  I didn't know I would say goodbye over and over again to basically every friend I made, but then I would keep making such good friends along the way. 

In the wake of graduation, I have been struggling to find purpose or success in my college experience.  What did all of it even really mean?  Why did I work so hard, and in a lot of ways, sacrifice so much (including my peace of mind)?  Was it worth it?  What did I even really do?  I don't have a life-plan, five year plan, or three month plan and that puts me characteristically out of control. 

I am working on practicing grace and giving myself time to figure out the answers.  I have taken hundreds of quizzes, dozens of tests, and submitted innumerable assignments.  I have lost hundreds of hours of sleep and made too many presentations.  I have read thousands of pages and typed too many essays.  I have learned about dynamic capabilities and how pine trees reproduce and transitional justice theory.  The investment in college is staggering.  I can't comprehend how much I have learned and changed, both inside and outside of the classroom. 

And when I look back on these four years, if I were to draw up a 'Top Ten Lessons I learned in College' list, I realized that there is one thing that would literally alternate every singe lesson.  God. is. there. for. you. 

This has been the biggest question of my college career.  The question I grapple with late at night, early in the morning, and over my lunch break.  It is the prayer I chant when I am scared or worried.  It is what I search the scriptures for and keep my eyes open for when I am looking for tender mercies.  It is the prayer I sob in the temple parking lot and what I write in my journal. 

I am not perfect in my belief or my faith.  It still is shaky in my feeble execution and practice.  But, above everything else, I have learned that God is there. 

Just a Taste

I am in the airport, a moment that I wasn't sure was ever going to come.  The past two weeks have been straight-up overwhelming for so many reasons.

But I'm sitting here, listening to music and actually having websites load.  !!!!  It's just a taste of my normal life, but wow, it feels good.

I am a little scared to go home.  Scared because I feel like I have learned so much here, and plunging right back into real life is scary.

I am not going to lie and say that the past two weeks have been easy, or that I handled them well.  I am fairly sure that I freaked my sister out often with all of my complaining (sorry Anne!).  But at the end of the day, I am so glad that I came.  I was ready to come home before I even left, but if I didn't come, I wouldn't have known or learned so many valuable lessons.  I am so grateful for that.

Now I am just sounding like a broken record but Wi-Fi is great!  Music is great!  Life is great!

But honestly, the best part of this entire trip was how close God was to me.  I felt Him in ways I haven't in a really long time.  I needed Him on this trip.  I was scared a lot of the time to be honest.  I just would pray and pray and pray for whatever I needed.  And He always answered.  I understand the temptation people feel to leave real life and come to a country like Uganda where God is palpable.  It's easy to talk to Him when your wifi doesn't work or you don't even know how to strike up a conversation with the people next to you.  Or you are driving for hours around the city.

I have struggled with faith off and on for a while now.  I am clinging so tightly to my plan and my decisions and my choices that it's scary to open my hands and let God guide me.  I have learned on this trip that it is ok.  He is an omnipresent Being, eternal and faithful and merciful.

xo. Elise

Africa Round 2

I am sitting here, bored to be honest.  There aren’t a lot of things to distract you in Africa.  There isn’t social media or Netflix that really works (trust me, I’m trying).  People don’t need to be working quite as hard as they used to be, and so there is a lot of sitting around.  We left at 6:00 this morning. We got home at 9:00 pm last night. Yesterday I had to go to the bathroom, was starving, and extremely thirsty, and I am realizing when you are any of these things in Africa and not close to home, you are uncomfortable for a very long time.  I am becoming overzealous in my bathroom search (what can I say, I love a good toilet that actually has water connected to it). I am stingy with my water bottle (it has to be a perfect balance of quenching my thirst, but not drinking it all too early or too fast, lest I’m thirsty all day or not around a bathroom).  I have to mentally go someplace else—often. We were in public transport for a total of nine hours yesterday. And those nine hours weren’t a quiet train or metro ride, or even a carsick-inducing bus. Instead, it is in a little twelve-passenger van (even though they are licensed to carry 14 people, lol, sometimes it’s more than that).  The upholstery is nasty, for lack of a better word, and you are shoved in there for however long it takes. The taxis honk their horns at every person they see on the side of the road. A simple outstretched hand indicates that someone wants a ride, and then a conductor (a person who sits right behind the passenger seat, controls the door, and gathers the pay), screams the destination.  “Kampala! Kampala! Kampala!” It’s pronounced more like “comp-awl-a”, well not quite, but I’m not sure how else to describe it. You move and squish as needed. The best seat is either in the front passenger seat or in the very back corner by the window (surprisingly). I dreaded riding public for the first time because you see people squished in their like sardines. It is surprisingly more comfortable (I can’t bring myself to say spacious) inside, but the middle rows are the worst because you could have four people squished in there and you constantly have to move with other people.  I still hate riding public, but after riding it for a total of nine hours (that is longer than Logan to Las Vegas in case anyone is wondering. It is also about my same flight from Amsterdam to Salt Lake), I think that I can handle it a little better.

        I was reading a book the other day (my Kindle app is easily one of my most prized possessions at this point), and I had the strangest feeling of zooming back into my body.  I haven’t read for escape in a really long time. Or maybe really ever? It hasn’t ever been a purposeful method of escape. But now? I do sometimes read to escape. I close my eyes on long car rides and in the public transportation.  I realized that part of is it self-preservation. Yesterday was what I deemed a ‘high-alert’ day. We were riding public transportation all-day and walked around busy sections of the city. I was on Laynero’s heels like a puppy, constantly looking around and being aware of everything.  At the end of the day, my arms ached and I was exhausted. I read or close my eyes and try to nap to prevent sensory overload. It is overwhelming to be here, and overwhelming to be here by myself. I have never been so grateful for books and the ability to check out. I completely forgot that I was in Uganda, and I sometimes need to give my mind that break.

        I have realized that none of my usual vices are here.  I can’t shop online, eat a lot of food, watch Netflix for hours, scroll Instagram for miles, drink a lot of Diet Coke, or anything else.  I am pondering what I am like, here without my usual weapons. It’s good. It’s also very boring since I can only reread so many books before I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.  I am realizing what I actually miss amongst those things, and what I am ok with giving up. If anyone ever needs a tough-love deprivation camp, may I recommend flying to Africa by yourself for two weeks?

        I do miss my independence.  I miss being able to walk outside and go pick up whatever I need at the grocery store.  I miss knowing how to work the public transportation system. I was so proud of myself this winter for ‘conquering all means of public transportation,’ but Africa has humbled me.  Yesterday in the two-hour ride home, I was in the front of the taxi (side note: I really think that they give me that seat as a preference because I feel like I’m thrown in there often, but it is the most comfortable).  Laynero was in the very back (the other best seat in the van), and I couldn’t see her unless I turned all of the way around. The first hour was very tense, partly because the driver kept changing gears and I had to hold my leg away from the stick shift, but also because I was terrified I was going to get separated from her.  I realized that it was the perfect example of faith for me. I know God is in the back of the van, just waiting and sitting, but the entire time I am terrified that He has evaporated into thin air. Of course Lanyero didn’t leave me, and even though there isn’t an official stop, I knew exactly where to get off on my own, and I met her outside the van.  Yes, very similar to God.

        Speaking of God, He is with me.  Very tangibly. I have been praying, nearly constantly while here.  I pray for big things, like time to develop wings and fly. I pray for little things, like the traffic jam to clear up (ok, sometimes that is a very big thing).  I pray that I won’t hear the mouse. I pray that I will find a bathroom. I pray that I won’t panic. And yesterday was actually really hard for me. Really hard.  And I just prayed the entire time. I want miracles in my life. I am learning that God is a God of miracles, but for me, He is continually a God of tender mercies.  And that is very different. It is hard sometimes because I just want that easy miracle, you know? But honestly, very few things have made me want to cry in gratitude as the toilet being full of water so I could flush when I woke up on Sunday (why can I not stop talking about the bathroom? I apologize).  I am counting my tender mercies in full gratitude because I would not have emotionally survived without them.  The sunset tonight, the pineapple soda on Friday, the full nights sleep seem so small out of context, but in the moment they seemed more like oxygen—enough breath to get my into the next moment.

        A lot of my least favorite parts of myself have been manifested in this trip.  I am selfish, snappish, insecure, low on patience, and uncomfortable. I considered myself a great world traveller who could adapt to cultures, but man, Uganda is teaching me lessons.  I am practicing grace, maybe too much, but I am practicing grace because it is hard to be here alone. As in really hard. I am used to being alone, but this is a different level. So I am practicing grace in my insecurity because it really stems from fear of not knowing how to act or to be.  I am hoping to carry this home, so next time, when the circumstances aren’t as dire and I feel insecure, I will have practiced more patience. I won’t snap or be too quiet.

        I have learned that time is not money in Uganda.  I have measured time as money for so long, I am not even sure how to change my paradigm.  It is utterly confusing to me as we circle the city, navigating traffic jams and bad roads, when an email would suffice in the U.S. I am flabbergasted by having to meet in person or wait for letters of introduction.  When telling Lanyero that we had five hours to wait for a response, she said that it wouldn’t take us five hours to get to our location. It took us four hours (trust me, I was counting them). When I told Lanyero that, she looked at me in surprise.  I always ask what time I need to get up in the morning, but I am typically waiting for an hour before we actually leave. I still can’t wrap my mind around this way of life. I am finding that I am infinitely more partial to my system (see what I mean by the worst parts of myself?  I am full-fledged, head-over-heels in love with America these days).

        I feel like I have been putting myself in situations where none of my talents are showcased.  It’s a little disheartening to be honest. I am taking an art class, failing at working in development, and struggling to learn a language.  In some ways I’m grateful because I am continually crossing things off my list of potential futures, but man, I need to sign up for something that I’m great at one of these days.  Or maybe that’s what college was? I’m really proud of myself. This stuff is hard, and I am not shying away from it. I am also exhausted because you can only handle so much of trying to be brave before you would like to just order a 24 oz. Diet Coke with lime and a sugar cookie to celebrate finishing a slide deck while driving away listening to Taylor Swift (literally what dreams are made of right there).  My dad told me that what I learn here will give me strength for the future, and I think that’s true.

Additionally, I am a little surprised at just how low-maintenance I am.  I mean, I always prided myself on that, but my eyebrows look like I am in fifth grade (you know, kind of the ragamuffin stage?).  Also, my hands are slightly sunburned because of the malaria medicine and my face is SO oily because of the daily sunscreen situation.  And sponge bath situation. Have I mentioned that? I am learning whole new levels of what I care about. I am actually surprised at how relatively good my complexion has been? I feel like a hag most days, actually every day, almost all of the time.  

        It should be noted that this entire thing has been written whilst listening to the EFY CD because Ugandans are very into that and we are waiting for a phone call at 8:00.  You know how it goes.

Things I've Learned--Final

It's strange, to be here at this point.  I first wrote up the things I learned four years ago, after my first semester.  I remember writing it in the JSB, probably waiting for marketing or philosophy or my Book of Mormon class.  I remember feeling like I had learned so much, so many simple lessons, and I didn't want to forget any of them.  After every season of life, I felt the same way, so here we are, with me recording my last semester of lessons, as I study for my last college test of my career. 

I've learned that learning a language is hard, harder and more humbling than I expected.  I came in as a senior, a mini-expert on college and business, yet very few of those skills are transferrable when one of your teachers doesn't even speak English.  I learned that eating at a cafeteria isn't all bad, especially when they have bread every day.  I learned that I am still a fan of rice pudding.  I learned that daily (or mostly daily) walks are good for me because they are small adventures.  I've learned that chocolate chip cookies are really the thing I miss most about home, even amidst the land of excellent pastry.  I've learned that metros are nothing to be afraid of, and taking trains is also really not scary at all.  I've learned that you can become friends with people you have nothing really in common with, but it's ok.  I've learned what it's like to be with someone nearly 24/7 for 11 weeks, and this introvert survived just fine.  I learned that treadmills in km are the best.  I've learned that not having service for most of the day is actually really great.  I've learned to relax in a few things, but I have also learned what is important to me and what I am willing to fight for.  I've learned that I am more of a routine person than I expected, and brushing my teeth twice a day is very important to me.  I've learned to read books, even when I really don't want to finish them.  I've learned that you can actually communicate a lot, even though you don't speak the same language.  I've learned that what you do in high school actually does matter because those verb conjugations from years ago have helped.  I've learned I don't actually need plastic bags to grocery shop.  I've learned how to find the cheapest Coke.  I've learned how to plan trips and decide for myself what I want to do.  I've learned that you can survive on only three pairs of leggings.  I've learned that it is colder in Spain than I expected.  I've learned that when you are away from everyone, it can be lonely.  I've learned that sometimes you wish you hadn't left, but you are grateful for this season.  I've learned that I am proud of who I am, and I've learned that God is still there.  I've learned that the Spanish healthcare system is mildly horrible, but I can communicate if needed in Spanish.  I've learned that for me, the taste of Spain will be Diet Coke, oranges, and Milka Oreo bars.  I've learned Spanish Netflix is pretty cool. 

I could go on and on, per usual.  There are so many glimmers of life here that I don't want to forget, but I am also ready for this small chapter to be closed.  I came up with this whole study abroad idea last winter, when I was lonely and hurt and tired.  And I am grateful that I kept at it, researching and finding the right place for me.  I didn't need this adventure like I needed it last winter--the idea of it helped more than I can articulate.  However, I am so very grateful I've had it.  Spain is always going to have a little bit of me, and I don't even know how to write how beautiful I think that is.

xo. Elise

365

I was looking at how long my hair has grown, and I think it is almost back to where it was when I cut it last February.  I remember I had take a selfie on that day, so I went back to my camera roll.

Last winter was hard and this picture was taken when I felt so fragile.  I learned after this season that waking up happy is something that isn't always constant.  It still feels like such a blessing when I wake up and feel joy. 

I looked at this picture I took yesterday, and I am really proud of myself.  I didn't handle myself perfectly last Winter semester, and there are so many things I wish I could change.  I wish I could just dump buckets of grace on myself and give myself a hug.  And maybe send myself a text saying that it was going to be ok.  I have a sense of fighting for this woman in the mirror.  I worked so hard to be her.  I worked hard to maintain my testimony, my sense of happiness, and my hope for the future.  I'm really proud of who I am.  A year ago, I didn't even really like myself.  There are still so many things I need to work on, but I am so grateful for the grace of God.  I put in all of the effort I could last winter, and God has overtaken everything else and made it spectacular.  By myself, it was mediocre at best.  My current life is just a miracle. 

xo. Elise