Kheri ya mwaka mpya

Apparently, that's how you say Happy New Year in Swahili.  I know it's not officially the new year yet, but by the time it is, I will have gone back to work and will likely have forgotten about my year-end post.  Since this blog has become the only way I can remember anything that happened more than a month ago, I once again document a successful completion of my New Year's Resolution.

Go some place I've never been before...

• I think Africa qualifies.  Actually, I'd been to Morocco, but the Kilimanjaro trip was on a whole other playing field.  See previous blog posts for details, but I think we got a pretty good Tanzanian experience for only having been at a hotel in Arusha and on the mountain.  We learned some key Swahili, got a few lessons about the culture and geography, ate some local food, and enjoyed/tolerated the trip of a lifetime.

...And try three new things outside my comfort zone.

• Wiffleball- I know this doesn't sound like a big deal to anyone, but my wiffleball memories are 18+ years old and all bad.  I didn't have a single positive wiffleball experience in elementary school, and I hadn't played since then.  But a friend needed another player, and I figured it couldn't be any worse than I remembered.  It was actually a blast, enough so that I signed up again for this coming January.  I still am pretty terrible (it's so not the same as softball), but it's a good crowd and player-friendly rules, and we go out for happy hour after the games.  So, not a terrible way to start the year.
• Kayaking- I'm not talking like sitting in a duckie (think single-person white-water raft) and floating down a river, nor am I talking lake kayaking (which I think I've done at the reservoir).  I'm talking full-on wet exit, white-water boat with a skirt, wetsuit with a dry-top and booties, terrified I might get stuck in the boat and die kind of kayaking.  There was a groupon for a lesson at the reservoir and I thought I would humor Marijo and see what all the fuss was about.  I believe my text to her midway through the lesson said something like "next time, we pick something you hate and make you do that." It wasn't really that bad.  We had awesome instructors, and I successfully "mastered" the wet exit and got 80% of the way through the T-rescue technique before lightening shooed us off the water.  I was okay with not finishing the other 20% because that involved actually letting go of the rescue boat and hanging out upside down in the water.  You aren't meant to be upside down in water.  Enough of that. I was proud of myself for trying, and not surprised in the least that I would perfectly content to never try it again.
• Dancing- Again, I'm not talking free-for-all at a wedding reception.  I'm talking lessons.  My relaxing trip to South Carolina to visit my aunt turned into a stress-fest when she conned me into attending her dance lesson and then conveniently decided to pawn her instructor off on me for the final thirty minutes.  I don't dance with other people.  It makes me tense up, which makes me a terrible follower and makes me even more self conscious.  I want to be able to dance, which is why "dance lesson" made an early appearance on my 30-before-30 list, but I don't think I'd survive another lesson.  Eduardo was great, and patiently walked me through shag and west coast swing.  Aunt Julie got the whole thing on video which is even more mortifying.  But I survived to tell about it, and that's really all that matters.  This one, I would try again, in very extenuating circumstances.
• Other notable events of the year include in no particular order: first participation in organized Ultimate Frisbee league, Urban Assault Ride, first Avs game, refinancing my mortgage, Jury Duty, awesome birthday trip to Portland, first pharmacy presentation since the end of my residency, USWNT soccer game vs. Australia, getting my front yard landscaped, first concert at Red Rocks, a couple trips to Missouri (KC and STL for sib visits), etc.  All in all, despite my overwhelming feeling that I'm in the exact same place at the end of 2012 as I was at the end of 2011, I know that's not true.  It was a good year, and I'm expecting great things from 2013.

Let Your Heart Be Light

Nothing like the day after Thanksgiving to really kick off the Christmas season.  Yes, I'm being a bad Catholic and ignoring Advent.  It's not even Christ the King yet, so get your liturgical correctness out of my good mood.  Even though the Christmas tunes have already made several appearances in the car (and even at work, gasp!), and I made it through my first full-length viewing of Christmas Vacation last night (I don't know Margo!), the holiday season always officially starts today.  Forget Black Friday and the madness of consumerism.  I spent the day watching college football--go 'Skers--and putting up my Christmas tree.  The outdoor lights were already up, courtesy of a gorgeous November day and my neighbor's "magic stick," so today was all about the indoor decorations.  Stockings are hung, garland adorns the stair railings, and my 8-foot fake tree is decorated in all its splendor.  It's got the traditional bulbs, the hallmark Creighton ornament, a couple Purdue classics, gifts from friends and family, a stolen strand of lights, and a conspicuously empty tree skirt.  Have a look, and have yourselves a merry little Christmas:

Sunday Funday!

Recipe for a fabulous Sunday:
1. Sleep in
2. Almond chocolate-chip pancakes
3. Broncos victory
4. Run/walk in Wash Park with the sis and the dog
5. Skyfall (two seconds into the movie, when the "duh duh" of the Bond theme played, I knew I was in for a treat)
6. Yummy home-cooked dinner at the 'rents
7. Early night to bed
8. Repeat every week

The Aftermath.

It's been a while since I've felt this alone.  I didn't realize how hard tonight would hit me until I was trying to accept the inevitable while working with a room (and probably hospital) full of liberal agnostics.  I love my job, I think the hospital is a fabulous place to work, and I have phenomenal coworkers.  But when it comes to politics, morals, and especially faith, I stand nearly alone.  Most days it's okay because I know that I have a wonderful support system outside of work.  I have the most solid foundation, my rock I turn to when everything else is in shambles.  My family, my friends, my God.  That foundation is escaping me right now.  I should have stayed off of Facebook.  I see so many "friends" who are celebrating tonight and I'm torn between shame and judgment.  These are people who were raised Catholic, many of whom still claim to be Catholic, and I want to grab them by their collars and scream, "What the hell are you thinking?"  Strong words, I know.  But I cannot mentally grasp how you can watch the attack on religious freedom, on life, on God, that has happened over the last 4 years and still be so blind.  I look at everyone who is in victory mode right now and I can't help but despair for our country.  Tell me how it matters what your tax bracket looks like if you lose your basic freedoms.  Tell me how it matters what our foreign policy is when we are murdering thousands of innocent lives every day.  I am ashamed of the Catholics who swayed this election.  I'm afraid for the country they've created and what it will require of me to stand firm in such a hostile environment.  I'm praying fervently that when I wake tomorrow, I will feel hope and love instead of fear and hatred.  I pray that my prayers may be ones of compassion and not desperation.  I pray that I can take the plank out of my own eye before I judge all of those whose actions and words I'm struggling now to understand.  We were never promised an easy road.  But we were promised that we would not stand alone in our persecution.  I pray that tomorrow I may feel less alone.

Wisdom for the Ages

As I was reading the book of Wisdom this morning, a book that was written 2100 years ago, chapter 14 sounded like it could have been written yesterday.  Here's an excerpt:

"They no longer safeguard either lives or pure wedlock; but each either waylays and kills his neighbor, or aggrieves him by adultery.  And all is confusion -- blood and murder, theft and guile, corruption, faithlessness, turmoil, perjury, disturbance of good men, neglect of gratitude, besmirching of souls, unnatural lust, disorder in marriage, adultery and shamelessness...For as their trust is in soulless idols, they expect no harm when they have sworn falsely."

Does that sound like a society you know?  Disturbance of good men?  Disorder in marriage?  Corruption and faithlessness?  I love when people say that the Church is irrelevant.  Yeah, this sure sounds like the author, both the physical author and the Divine Author, has no idea what he is talking about.  This sure sounds antiquated (sarcasm, people).  It is as true today as it was two millennia ago.  When we worship the false idols of power, money, fame, and instant gratification, we destroy our human dignity and the pure and perfect love that we are meant to receive.  It's no mystery how we've gotten to where we are.  And it's no mystery how to undo it. 

Verso l'alto

9.30

• Up at 10:45 (actually still 9.29 at this point), dressed and eating “breakfast,” hoping that this is the last porridge I’ll have to eat.  Turns out that one step at a time isn’t that hard when that’s all the farther you can see in front of you.

Just starting out, under the light of the full moon

• Longest 5 ½ hours of my life.  (probably not really, but that’s how it felt at the time.  Not gonna sugar-coat it, I was miserable)  Froze the whole way to the top.  My trusty hand and foot warmers at least gave me peace of mind that I wasn’t getting frostbite.  Going pole pole was painful.  I wanted to go faster only because faster = warmer.  Trouble breathing from the get-go.  Not because of the thin air but because the air trapped in my stomach pushed my diaphragm against my lungs and I would’ve traded my hat and gloves for one good belch.
• Camelbak froze around 2am, Nalgenes started freezing shortly after that.  It’s a chore to force myself to eat and drink.  When we hit Stella Point, I was so grateful to be almost done with this madness.  Hosea said “another one our and a half to two hours maybe” and I swear I wanted to punch him. (not the most Christian thought, I know, but that’s what I wrote in my journal. Blame the violent tendencies on the altitude)  Fortunately, it only felt like another 45 minutes or so, but my watch was buried under 6 layers, so who knows.
• Summit was honestly anticlimactic.  I was just hoping that some of the pictures turned out, because that was the only thing keeping me going.  I was too cold to take my mittens off to take any of my own pics.  Too cold to get the summit bears out of my pack.  Too cold to smile.  The best part about the summit was actually just after we left the top, running into our Utah friends.  It was so wonderful to share that with them and to know that we were in it together.

Tebowing at the top

• “Lunch” at 9:30 or so was crepe sandwiches which tasted fantastic given my ever-present nausea.  It was a steep, dusty trip down, lots of nearly rolled ankles, but we booked it to Mweka Camp and arrived an hour ahead of schedule. 
• Meat!  Dinner included reinforcements from the bottom, so we had chicken and beef, and avocados the size of my head.  Not joking.  Said a sad, long goodbye to the Utah folks and promised to email. 

10.1

• Early morning, but glad to be finally done with waking up in a tent and getting dressed sitting down.  Quick hike down to the bottom with only one pole (the other wouldn’t lock).  We saw monkeys, which seems minor, but turned out to be a highlight. 
• The certificate ceremony was quite the production.  The Kiliwarriors sang and danced for us, and I actually understood the second half of the Kilimanjaro song this time. (they chant things about each of the camp sites and while I don’t know what they said about each one, I did recognize Machame, Barranco, Karanga, etc.)

I get my certificate

• We had to wait quite a while for Peter to come get us in the fun bus to take us to our hotel for showers.  It gave us time to see the Utah folks one more time, but it also presented an easy target for all the locals selling souvenirs.  One guy told me Obama was his homeboy.  Great.  Can’t wait to get back to the States for the election hoopla.
• We arrived at Kia Lodge to take showers and naps.  It’s hard to describe this place except to say that the emphasis is on nature.  Cabins sit amidst an array of plant life, and birds, lizards and insects are everywhere, including in the open-air restaurant during our lunch.  The shower was supposed to be a highlight of the trip but turned into a chore since the shower head was broken and the mosquito screens in the bathroom were ineffective and had me paranoid.  Still, felt good to be clean.

Lizard at the KIA Lodge

• JRO airport is quite the novelty.  We didn’t see much of it on the way in, but they have four international “gates” which are really just doors straight out onto the tarmac.  During the three hours we were at the airport, they had two domestic flights and two international flights the whole time.  Once you go through security, that’s it.  No shops, no drinking fountain, barely a bathroom.  It was a long couple hours waiting for our flight.

10.2

• Uneventful travel day.  Mostly spent trying to drink lots of water and trying to keep Dad from sneezing on me.  Caught up on lots of movies.  So great to be headed home.

And there you have it folks.  The trip of a lifetime, an epic adventure.

My kingdom for a Zofran

9.28

• I’ve decided that without a bathroom tent, I would have officially abandoned ship by this point.  Still nauseous during breakfast, but not as bad as Mary.
• Our “short hike” up Barranco Wall turned into a massive traffic jam as climbers and porters made their way up the rocks.  Lots of ups and downs and rock climbing and waiting.  Bounty bars made the hike a little more bearable.

 

Barranco Wall

• Drama of the day: when we arrived at camp, the bathroom tent was NOT READY!  Turns out the water source for this camp site is a little ways away and our porters are still bringing water back for the toilet.  Still, changing into camp clothes feels pretty good.
• Now it’s raining.  Awesome.  After feeling crappy all day, I’m now freezing and the thought of food makes me want to vomit.  Laura and Mary think they are being helpful by suggesting foods that might sound appetizing, but it all gets to me and I break into tears.  Way to be the wussy Zapapas. 
• Our Utah friends came to say hi.  It made me feel better and worse.  Better because they are wonderful and funny and positive.  Worse because they all looked super warm and said they are used to skiing when it’s 10 below and know how to layer.  My version of skiing is 50 degrees and sunny.  A hot water bottle in the sleeping bag makes things a little better and at least I avoid the mid-night bathroom run.

9.29

• Laura gets dressed so much faster than I do.  I tell her this and she says, “well I had to pee.”  (I’m sure she loves that I shared that.  We talked a lot more about bathroom topics than anyone should.)  A mocha and the sun coming out make things a little brighter, but I’m still trying to figure out how Aunt Carol did this twice and loved it.
• I have an altitude brain moment and try to put my gaiter on over my other gaiter.  Doesn’t work so well. 
• We pass Barafu camp and pause to rest in the sun.  It feels amazing.  As we start heading up towards our cheater camp for the night, porters carrying a stretcher pass us, going up to bring down a hiker in trouble.  That is tempered by all the people we pass who are on their way down who say it’s so worth it and to take one step at a time.  Feels good to know we are within striking distance.

Enjoying the heat of the sun

• The afternoon and evening are spent trying to balance rest and cramming food down our throats.  Of the three rules on the mountain (eat enough, drink enough, pole pole), pole pole has become the easiest.  Dinner is grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches which is a Godsend because it actually is appetizing.  And even though it doesn’t feel like I slept, apparently I was snoring.  So, go me.