Jungle Light

May 6, 2013

My youngest daughter, Kacie, and her husband, Pedro (who is from Brazil), and my 2-yr old granddaughter (Clara) recently came for a 10 day visit.
Kacie and I haven’t had the opportunity to see each other in four years, and this is the first time I’ve had the chance to hold Clara in my arms, ever. 
I mean, we talk/see one another on Skype when we can, but it’s not the same thing as having my baby (with hers) here, together in person.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I also have two lovely daughters that came gifted because of my first marriage.
My oldest, Elizabeth and my 12-yr old granddaughter, Avery, live in Southern California:

(Hi Avery, if you are reading this – I really miss you, Squirt!)

Middle daughter – Katherine – has lived in England with her British husband, Clive for the last ten years. Katherine and Clive are thrillingly expecting twins (a girl and a boy) next August, and mother and babies are doing great.
And I’m really sorry that Elizabeth and Avery couldn’t make it here, since Lizbee was pretty instrumental in getting the ball rolling on this one, but ended up not being able to make it.

 

Playing in the Rio Olon

 

I believe one of the hardest consequences of being an expat is the distance from so many loved ones. 
I’m often envious of the close-knit, extended families I see here in Ecuador. Many of them will never travel further than a few hundred miles from Olón for their entire lives, nor care that there is a whole 'nother “world" out there.
They are with their families and friends, and really (?) is there anything ultimately more important than that in life?



Photo courtesy of Kacie

For that matter, I’m also jealous at times of family and friends who have never budged very far from Kansas City (where I grew up) and still enjoy all the familiar sights and traditions of that area, and chose to raise their families there….Especially during the holidays.

(though snickering behind my hand about the recent mid-west May snowstorm).

 

I think the most difficult times for me are during the holidays when everyone is posting cozy, snowy Facebook pics of their families – dressed in some festive clothing – gathered around a turkey, with a fireplace burning brightly in the background…while I am  profusely dripping sweat, trying to sweep an errant bat out of my house.

 

 

 

Anyway, Kacie has been to Ecuador to visit once before, and knew what to expect.  It can take some visitors coming to our Ecuadorian coastal areas time to reconcile the reality with pre-conceived ideas.
It doesn’t hurt that Kacie also speaks four languages fluently.  She is a linguist with the Army, and two days after they left here, they were on their way to make a new home in Germany, where she is posted for now, so I was particularly grateful that we had this time together.

Kacie and Pedro had a list of things they wanted to do while here, and I was more than happy to babysit while they did them.
That got me out of zip-lining, jungle-light expeditions and Montanita late nights, thankfully. Been there/done that.

 

 

 

What it did NOT get me out of was the “day of horseback riding on the beach”, which was top on Kacie’s checklist. The horses can be “ordered beforehand” and show right up at door, with the guide, at more or less the appointed time.  Kacie was really looking forward to riding horses on the beach.

 



 

 (she is also an accomplished equestrian).

 

Kacie requested two horses for us to ride. By a complicated formula that involved heated discussions amongst the adults, logic, default….I somehow ended up on the second horse for that venture.

I haven't ridden a horse in probably 35 years.

It was fun, except for the painful concrete saddle. I didn't even know I had bones in certain places until then.
I actually was provided with a very gentle and responsive horse (and I do know some basics, thanks to Girl Scouts and other horse riding lessons in my youth).
While the horse was very obedient to my lame nudges, I decided early on just to try and stay on the saddle with the least amount of pain, and let the horse take its own course, who was generally keeping pace with the horses of the guide and Kacie.

 

Never. Ever. Again.

 

EXCEPT --- now and then, my horse was determined to walk straight into the ocean. 
I mean – STRAIGHT OUT INTO THE SEA.
Several times – just  out of curiosity – I let the horse do it, if nothing else to see how far he planned on going with that idea (and not too worried, since I figured I could vault off the horse if he got too deep in the water) during his kamikaze missions.

I would rather cut my front lawn with a pair of child scissors than agree to do that again.

I couldn’t walk or sit comfortably for two days afterwards.

But, nevertheless, I will always treasure that experience and memory.