Vacating the Premise

I am so exhausted from the constant rush of this place; I can barely keep myself from collapsing under the weight of my own awesomeness. I never thought I would make it through the donor trip, NHQ visit, and two year commemoration but somehow it is December 28th and I am just a few hours away from my last commitment. A few hours away from total abandon; freedom from responsibility.

I was able to spend some time Christmas morning on the beach in Banda, it was spectacular and I am embarrassed that it took me so long to get their. The water was so clear I could see the bottom ten feet in. The water was calm and the beach was mine for the morning. Three days later the sunburn is receding into a lobster’ish tan. Later in the evening my boss cooked an amazing Christmas dinner for the few of us left in Aceh, it was one of the best meals I can remember having, it tasted like home. Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy that was so good I could have eaten dirt if it had been bathed in the creamy goodness, Stove Top Stuffing and canned cranberry sauce; I get happy just thinking about it.

The two year came and went with little notice, we had sort-of expected it to be a quiet affair but you never know. It is hard not to get sad as you could occasionally hear mass wailing from you bedroom. This was an event that touched everyone here in a very direct way. I have yet to meet someone from Aceh that has not lost a loved one—and often it is many loved ones. But it was also a time for all Indonesians to reflect on how much has happened since that day in 2004. A lot of work remains to be done but it was not all tears this year, there was hope mingled with the sorrow.

I am off tomorrow morning to Bali, I will be spending the New Year getting messages and relaxing on the beaches of Legian. I am staying at a resort hotel until the 5th when I expect to come back rejuvenated and ready to start the second iteration of my job. I cannot tell you how excited I am. I was singing vacation songs to everyone in the office today and can’t wait to go home and pack. I love my job, I love my friends and family, I love my life, how blessed am I.

Remains of a Mosque in Calang

Who is that handsome devil?

Putting out the little fire that could (sprung-up three times but was never really a threat).

A colleague getting onto our not so sea worthy vessel, notice the lack of life vests

It is time that I come back to the blog, I have taken far too long to update. Rather than babble endlessly about what has happened lately I will drop a group of bullets:

• I took a bone rattling little boat to the island of Pulo Aceh, it caught fire twice and the ride took just over two and a half hours—on the return trip the British let us use their speed boat (life vests and all), the trip took 30 minutes.
• Wrote my first story and it is up on my organizations website (at least for the time being it is on the main page but here is a link directly to the story: Ice Cream Man). It was great doing the story but it was a bit hard for me to soften it for the website. The guy I interviewed had a tragic story and broke down crying while talking with me. Once he started to cry many of the men in the village started to cry with him (my translator nearly broke down as well).
• I just did two interviews for Omaha media, KPTM and KFAB. The KFAB interview was the better of the two; I got word that KPTM wanted to talk an hour before the interview at 7am. I had just had a long night and was so tired that I don’t exactly remember all that I said, but it was a lot of fun doing both of them.
• I now have an assistant. She is adorable and I have already become addicted to having someone take care of me. She serves as both my assistant and translator.
• I just got back from a trip to the capital, Jakarta, while their I had a ton of meetings that will of course lead to more meetings—but the highlight of the trip was an aroma therapy massage followed by a body scrub and herbal bath…sometimes life is just too hard.
• I am looking forward to taking my first break soon. I was hoping to get away for the New Year but that is now looking in doubt, we will see.
• As part of a measles vaccination program, with our partners, we are targeting more than 13 million children, I will be going to the island of Java in late February to help promote the program—I am very excited, seeing kids receive essential aid is the best part of the job.
• Pictures are on the way…

Notes to my Family

I am use to being thousands of miles away. I have seen friends and lovers fall away, I have let go and been let go of more times than I can remember but the one thing that has always been constant is my family. We never, never let go of each other. We may fight, we may dislike, but we always love and hold on.

Without a voice, she called him and grandpa came. Without strength, she pulled him in. Without water, she softened her lips. With all the love eternity may grant, she kissed him goodbye. My grandmother said farewell on her own terms with her own man.

My grandma has died.

She is me, she is my mother’s mother, she is my blood. I know this because Grandma’s final words, before the last stroke took her speech, were a curse-ladened tirade of defiance ending in a demand for whiskey. Only my blood would act so audacious and amazingly full of life in the face of death. Even now, as I sit her sad and suddenly a little bit lonelier, I think of that moment and smile.

I have always taken great pride in saying I am like my grandfather: I see him every time I disarm someone with a silly joke, every time I walk unaffected through another earthquake, or whenever a deep determination drives me to push myself harder. But in truth, I am guilty of not knowing my grandparents. I love them with all my heat but I couldn’t tell you how they met or the struggles they went through on their journey to love. I can tell you that every time I came to visit they greeted me with hugs and a cup of coffee. I remember sitting Indian style on the floor as grandma told me stories of how bad mom was, or running in mach terror as grandpa chased after me with those damn tickle fingers of his.

I did not know them as people; I knew them as my grandparents. I still see grandma looking on with pride as all the cousins stood together wearing our neon pink, green and white Nebraska sweaters, or grandpa showing us how to inflate our biceps by just blowing on our thumbs. Most of all I remember that my family; my cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, brother and sisters, mom and dad, we all laughed. We always laugh.

I am use to being thousands of miles away but the one thing that has always been constant is my family; we always love and hold on. Deneta Genevieve Sullivan is gone but her legacy is everywhere.

I love you grandma.