I Can Only Imagine

(Please do not miss the video at the end)

I am so thankful for my family, friends, Chile, and higos secos (dried figs). I’m thankful for big things like the canopy of trees that line our street and clouds that shade us from Chile’s ozone-deprived sky. I am thankful for small things like little squares of Lindt Chocolate and that my shoes finally dried after running in the rain. I am thankful that Ciervo is looking buffer-than-ever swimming and riding his bike every weekend and that he didn’t bring his golf clubs to South America.

The truth is, I can’t imagine what my life would be like without everyone who reads these words. I am thankful for you. I can’t imagine life without a home. I am thankful for the place I hold in your lives. I can’t imagine my life without inspiration. I am thankful for others that inspire me to be more than I am.

Many of you know this story. Please read it and watch the video as if you’re seeing it for the first time. And if you are, then prepare to be inspired.

Rick Hoyt was born with Cerebral Palsy and has been confined to a wheelchair from birth. Doctors told his parents he would be a “vegetable” his whole life, but Dick and Judy Hoyt refused to believe and tried to give their son as much of a normal life as possible.

When Rick was in high school, he told his dad (through the aid of a computer that allows him to talk) that he wanted to do a 5mile race that was being held to help a recently paralyzed athlete. So Dick, a self-described “porker” took up running. That day changed Rick's life. “Dad,” he typed, “When we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!''

And that sentence changed Dick's life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. Since that time, they have done 85 marathons, 8 Ironman Triathlons, and a cross country bike trip. Their best marathon time was 2:40 in 1992 - only 35 minutes off the world record which is held by someone who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.

The thing Rick really wants to give his dad is a gift he can never buy. “The thing I'd most like,” Rick types, “is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4B-r8KJhlE

Happy Thanksgiving

El Colegio Saint Gabriels

I bought a loaf of bread the other day just because it was huge. It was a novelty, and seemed like a good idea. Twenty thousand grams of carbohydrates later, I realize it was an experience I should have passed on.

As we look back on the school year that is about to end, we remember that we enrolled the girls for the experience, and are glad we did. There have been challenges, like understanding the routine, deciphering the lunch menu to avoid eating pastel (casserole), and translating their homework. Mostly we’ve had fun.

There have been plenty of highlights: Sarafina has frequently used her smile and high-pitched squeal to coerce chocolate out of the headmistress; Margarita leaves class twice a week for extra ballet practice (priorities, the performance is coming up); and a language barrier doesn’t exist between friends who just run around and scream anyway. Sarafina has learned all the vowel sounds (albeit in Spanish) and when I asked Margarita if she ever does math she replied “I think so”. Should I be worried?


We are a bit of a novelty at school. Our unofficial name is “That American Family”. The older kids like to practice their English on me, and the parents just stare: Maybe they want to say something but don’t know the English words; maybe they question the intelligence of a woman speaking at a two-year-old level; or maybe they saw me eat that loaf of bread and are worried they’d lose a finger if they got too close.

Next semester I plan to homeschool. With any luck, my curriculum will be just as enriching. I figure we’ll read some (like the scolding notes from the building manager about playing on the grass and screaming in the halls), learn music (The Nutcraker, of course, did you need to ask?), and write a little (notes of apologies to all our neighbors for the aforementioned). Maybe we’ll even do some math. Now there is a novel idea.

Sisma

Buton de Panico

I had to go to the 8th floor of an office building today. When I got on the elevator, there was a very large, hand-written sign on the control panel pointing to the buton de panico. (Photo is a reenactment). While I had no reason to panic at that time, I started thinking it odd that they made such an effort of pointing out the panic button. I wonder if people often panic on this elevator. Should I be panicked now? Where is this elevator going, anyway? What if it stops and the lights go out? And what if I can't see the sign that indicates the buton de panico and I have to stand here and scream but I don't know "help, I can't see!" in Spanish and its almost lunch time and what if everyone leaves and there is no one to hear me??!! Where is that button?!!!

It is nice to know that panic buttons exist. Luckily, we have had no need for one, as things have been going pretty smoothly. While I make light of our life here, it's because we are laughing through the frustrations and having fun with it all.

But the panic buttons do make us feel safe. We have a one on our telephone. It's right under the receiver and when the pizza man on the other end of the phone asks me a question I can't understand I simply push it and he goes away. There is also a panic button by our front door. When I push it, one of the doorman (Mario, Luis, or Alfredo) comes on and say something to me probably along the lines of "What now you crazy gringo? Will you please stop pushing that button?!" It's nice to know they are close by.

Right now, I'll just press the "send" button on my computer. This keeps me in touch with friends and family who keep me grounded in who I am. With you I have no reason to panic.

Sisma

Nutella

How come no one ever told me about Nutella? Food of the gods and I had to go all the way to Buenos Aires to first hear of this sweet nectar of life. I tasted it and the earth moved.

Yea, BA (that’s what we Santiaguinos call it) rocks. Between the Nutella (a taste of heaven and ground cocoa, mixed with sugar from the sweetest cane and hazelnuts grown by angles, is not the least bit South American but makes me want to Tango anyway), Dulce de Leche (like Nutella but is made from sweet milk and tastes like carmel), and Malbec (Argentinian red wine that neither looks nor tastes like Nutella but is yummy none-the-less) I could have stayed for more than just a weekend. But me and the other CP’s (Chilean Princesses) had to get home to our adoring fans (hungry kids). The shopping is fantastic, the food is fabulous and the peso is seriously devalued. Yup, BA has everything a CP could ever want.

But while BA was a blast, it’s Chile that literally rocks my world. You read about the 6.6 earthquake that shook Hawaii a few weeks ago, but did you hear about the 6.4 that Chile experienced the day before? Or the 5.3 that struck the day after? The strongest earthquake every recorded in world history shook Chile in 1960 registering 9.5 on the Richter Scale. It turns out earthquakes happen in Chile everyday. For most of them, I’ve had an alibi.

So maybe it wasn’t the Nutella that moved me. Maybe the earth did quake. Maybe it was the smell of Argentenian leather in the shops that made me swoon. Maybe that glass of Malbec after running 26.2 miles made me a little unsteady. But most likely, it was because this princess left her entourage behind, and it wasn’t until I returned to my rightful place as La Reina de la casa (Queen of the house) where I could stand steady.

Sisma