Nicaragua: Make this leap

As time continues to march forward, my next daunting life transition looms ahead. In just three short weeks I will be on an airplane headed towards the great state of Minnesota. Of course I am excited to reunite with family and friends and to re-adapt to the "comforts" of that place called home; however, it's not going to be all sunshine and rainbows. In trying to enjoy my last days in Nicaragua, I cannot help but have a little anxiety about the move that is to come.

In no particular order, these are some of my fears:

I'm afraid of dealing with ignorant people who have things called "first world problems." You know, problems like having to put dirty clothes in a machine with some soap and water and then pushing a button so that those clothes can magically become clean. Problems like having to walk to the other room to turn on the other TV because what they're watching in the first room just isn't in my realm of interests. I'm afraid of one day having first world problems myself.

I'm afraid of falling back into a closed and over-productive culture where the clock dictates. Where showing up "on time" means arriving 15 minutes early to all scheduled meetings (and where even getting together for morning coffee with a friend has to be scheduled).  

I'm afraid that my only food options are going to be pre-packaged, processed, factory-farmed, and developed by NASA. There will no longer be a banana tree in my backyard, a lady next door who sells me fresh eggs from her hens, or a man who rides his bicycle around town selling homemade coconut bread. 

I'm afraid of people asking me, "So how was the Peace Corps?" and me summarizing my twenty-seven months of service in answers far too short to do it any justice. On the flip side, I'm afraid of people asking me, "So how was the Peace Corps?" and then me going into long, well-thought, intense answers, only to find that those people didn't really want to hear about it, or they didn't have time to listen to my answer. Asking a question without really caring about the answer--people in the United States tend to do that. 

Perhaps there is no such thing as the perfect place, and that everywhere we go we must adapt and create our own happiness. Nicaragua is far from perfect, but it has become my "normal." The United States has its downfalls also, but I suppose my new challenge is to make it my new normal. Change is constant, but that does not prevent it from being difficult. I can do it, though. If we are to continue to learn and grow, change is necessary.