Devastated

I can only recall two times in my life when I have been truly devastated; one was yesterday and the other was three years ago today. Three years ago, this world lost Ryan Gosciejew. He was my boyfriend of 2+ years, the best friend I have ever had, and a sharer of my soul. Some of the best times I have had in my life were when I was sharing them with him. We, ultimately, had different images of our future when ended our relationship, but that did not lessen my sorrow, guilt, loss when he was gone. He was an amazing man. We climbed mountains together, explored caves, laughed, cried, and grew as a couple and as individuals.

When I heard of his death, I was on a 19 state road trip visiting friends and seeing the country. My instinct was to just end the trip and go home. But after talking to friends and family, I continued on. The final two friends that I visited were a blessing. I had never needed people like I did then, and I got more than I could have expected. It was nothing huge, just an ear, a chance to cry, support, and love. I received the same from other friends and family when I returned home. I had friends who shocked me with their support, advice, time, hugs. I quickly learned what an amazing community I had.

One of the many mountains we climbed together

Love this man

Every year since, on June 27th, I have tried to do something to honor Ryan. This year I had decided to spend the day in Williams' Canyon, hiking and exploring.  Williams Canyon was one of the first places Ryan and I went as we were getting to know each other and was a place Ryan loved.  Williams is home to The Cave of the Winds as well as numerous, non-public, caves.  Ryan was an active caver and even helped dig out many of the new caves they were finding in the canyon.  It is also where I can go and feel close to him. But my plan to spend the day there literally went up in flames on Saturday.

On Saturday, I was on my way to Manitou to have lunch with friends when I noticed a small amount of smoke coming from the Waldo Canyon/Williams Canyon area. We have had smaller fires near Colorado Springs before, so I just figured they would put it out and we would be okay. But that was far from what happened. The first day, the fire grew to 2,500 acres and is now up estimated at over 15,000. I don't know for sure how much of Williams' Canyon is burned, but I know it is not the canyon I learned to love as I was falling in love with Ryan. And last evening, the fire jumped the last canyon keeping it out of the city.  It burned down Flying W Ranch which had stood and entertained people for 60 years; and then it started burning homes. Some were homes of friends, other friends are still waiting to see what happens. I am devastated. It is so hard to see the city I grew up in, the city I love, burn to the ground.

Fire from Manitou about 30 mins after it had started

Fire a day later

Houses burning due to the Waldo Canyon Fire - Denver post photo

The fire exploding on Tuesday evening as winds picked up quickly - photo by Sarah Condie

Luckily my family and I are okay, as are our homes. And, all of my friends are okay, even if some of their houses are not. Once again, I am surprised by the community. I have been glued to the news, the fire scanner, facebook and twitter for much of the past two days. Through them I have seen how strong the community of Colorado Springs is, and how strong my small community of friends is. There are volunteers, donations, support for fire fighters and evacuees coming from all over the city. My guess is they will continue and grow as the fire has. And the support my friends and I have been able to give each other lets me know that I will be okay after this is all over.  

Home?

Today I was asked (for about the 10^th time) “are you glad to be home?” Not only does that question have me pondering where I would rather be at this time, but it also make me think a lot about the word “home.” Where is that exactly? Is it where you live? Is it where you grew up? Is it where your family is? Hard to know. If I always refer to Colorado Springs as home, I feel as though I am not investing in my time in Guatemala. It is as if I am just visiting for a while while keeping my heart and all that is important back in Colorado. But at the same time I would never question that Colorado is my home. It is where my family is, it is where I grew up, it is a large part of who I am today. As I was getting ready to head back here for Christmas, I keep saying that I was going home. But when the immigration officer asked if I was going home to stay, I said “No, I live in Guatemala.” So now I wonder: is it possible to have more than one home?

My first day in the US in four months felt strange. I didn't have to think about how to say things when I went to the store, I can read the menus, I can have conversations with strangers. It is great and yet strange. Is it possible to get so comfortable in a place in less than four months, that the place you lived for 31 years feel strange? At the airports, I found myself surprised when I heard people speaking english (even though I speak english every day) and keep catching myself saying “con permiso,” “gracias,” etc.

A few weeks ago I was talking to one of the other teachers from the US and he was complimenting me on a 21K race I ran (I was the third female overall!). He has been in Guate for four years and told me that he thinks it is great that I am finding a way to do things outside of school and meeting other people. In his four years he does not believe he has done that. Although I like the idea of becoming a part of Guate and not just a part of CAG, that was not my intention. My intention was to get involved in the things I was doing back in the US. For my sanity I need to hike, I need to run, I need to dance. As it turns out, doing those things not only makes me feel more at home in Guate, it gives me a chance to be meet and spend time with locals. At the race (Desafio de Lava) I saw a number of people who I had met when climbing Acatenango. It was exciting to be able to say hi, good luck, etc to others at the race as I had always done in Colorado. But, during the race, I did miss chatting with other runners. During races like the Ascent and Barr Trail Mountain Race (steady uphills where non-superhumans are speed hiking rather than running), I tend to talk to others. I know enough Spanish to where I was able to ask to pass and cheer others on, but rarely understood what they told me in return. Despite that it was still a ton of fun, I really felt “at home” during that race.

There have been many instances where I really felt comfortable and completely happy doing what I was doing; I did not want to be back in CO, I did not miss the safety and convenience of the US.  And, I love telling people at the market “no soy un torista, yo vivo aqui en Guatemala.” But there are also times where I miss Colorado and think “I can not wait to get home." And right now, I am thoroughly enjoying being in Colorado and with my family. Does that mean I am not fully invested in my time in Guate? Or does it simply mean that I have more than one home?