Guatemala: We Made it!

We have made it, safe and sound in Guatemala!

Today was travel from GSP to ATL and ATL to GUA then to the bus to travel from Guatemala City to Antigua.

So far so good!

More to come later. Off to bed for now. Tomorrow we travel to Tecpan and meet our partner family!

Here are a few pics from today:

GSP to ATL

ATL to GUA

Baggage Claim

Here we go!

Our awesome guide, Kayla!

Chicken buses...there is a documentary somewhere out there about these.

A colorful community!

We made it!

Street outside the hotel in Antigua

Rooftop view!

Clive Rainey! The first ever Habitat volunteer! 

A church in Antigua

The whole group!

View from the roof. I think I'm gonna like it here!

To Guatemala We Go!

We are less than 48 hours from arrival in Guatemala! (And I haven't even begun to pack.)

For some on the trip, this will be a first taste of Habitat and for others, an international trip with Habitat has been a goal for quite some time. I am one of those others.

We will be traveling to the red pin.

My journey with Habitat began 10 years ago this month. In January of 2007 I moved to a city to which I had never been and only knew one person. I made this move to begin my year of service as an AmeriCorps member working with Habitat Wake. I certainly did not know what I was getting myself into nor what that next year or even 10 years would bring.

The foundation of "my" house, January 2008.

Though I entered my AmeriCorps service with much uncertainty and was pretty touch and go those first few months, I am now certain that I was meant to choose that path and be where I am today. My Habitat journey has been a meandering one that has had me in roles as an AmeriCorps VISTA and National member; a participant in a Carter Work Project; a volunteer (when I could squeeze it in amongst the long hours and non-traditional schedule of camp life); an Alumni house leader for the AmeriCorps Build-A-Thon; a ReStore employee getting my foot in the door in hopes of moving on up; a Volunteer Coordinator (because that foot in the door method worked); and now a co-leader for a Global Village trip!

Build-A-Thon May 2016

I am often not exactly sure what it is that draws me to Habitat, but I am certainly drawn in.

The others going on the trip feel the same way, I'm sure.

Our team is made up of 12 individuals who collectively have 64+ years of experience as staff, AmeriCorps, and volunteers with Habitat. We have 5 Habitat Greenville staff members on the team, all with varying positions and backgrounds. (Three of us served as AmeriCorps at different affiliates many moons ago.) Another 3 of our team members are part of our Quality Assurance Team (QATs) who are volunteers that we could not do our work without. One of their daughters will also be joining us as well! The last 3 members of the team are involved in our Habitat Young Professionals (HYP) group. Our Global Village Team is quite a range of ages and personalities and because of that we think it will be a fantastic first Global Village experience!

Most of the team!

I know I am excited to work hard and see how an international affiliate operates. And I am sure the others on the team are as well!

We welcome your encouragement and prayers as we travel and work to fulfill the vision of Habitat: a world where everyone has a decent place to live.

Thank you to all who have supported and continue to support as we make this journey!

I Smell Snow

Last night we awaited the start of the snowfall. I peeked out the door and took in a deep breathe.

I smelled snow!

Sometimes the weather tracking technology is wrong and what they predict doesn't happen. But sometimes it is right. And sometimes even when you don't know if you can trust the meteorologists you know you can trust the smell of snow in the air.

Yesterday vs. Today

I love snow. Maybe even adore it. It is one of the many traits I have inherited from my mom be it via nature or nurture. I did not move to the south to escape winter, I miss it. And when we get the rare city shutting down snowfall I want to take in every minute of it.

One of the most magical things in life is going to bed with the hope of snow and waking up to a winter wonderland! I love how the snow comes in overnight like a surprise gift for those who love it. (I'm sure there is some scientific reason as to why it seems snow comes in overnight more often than during the day, but I don't care to know. I like to think it's magic.)

See, don't these just look magical? Or Seussical at least?

Sometimes snow and I are not happy with each other because it causes plans to cancel and change. (I was supposed to high tail it to OH tonight, but I think that will not be happening.) But even with the cancelled events and plans changed I think what snow often does is actually really lovely. It forces rest and community (if you want it). Jobs that don't usually take a day off get to shut down for a brief moment. It draws neighbors out to the yards and hills for fun and shenanigans. It highlights the beauty of the landscape you might not notice otherwise. It calls you inside under a warm blanket with a book (near a window of course so you can still see the snow).

Snow lends itself to special meetings and memories made. Friends getting snowed in for a night or two is always nice. (This year it was planned for and invited.) My first meeting of all the camp kids where I used to work took place on a snow day almost exactly 6 years ago. Close to two years ago in the midst of a terribly difficult life season it called us out to make the biggest snow man we have ever made and forget the troubles plaguing our community of friends for a few hours. Last year we explored the hills and the various objects we could sled with while enjoying the company of roommates.

6 years ago

2 years ago

I LOVE snow.

It's magical. And lovely. And inviting. And hoped for.

And now as it is the early morning hours, I will remove myself from this post to go enjoy a hearty snow day breakfast before heading out into the winter wonderland to enjoy the magical things that happen in the snow!

I will leave you with this:

Snow ninja, just for good measure.

Also: Ref. Gilmore Girls, Season 1, Episode 8 Love and War and Snow

To Write Home About: A Mattress

Lately, it seems, I haven't much to write home about (or call home about more accurately).

Perhaps discontentment and looking for the next thing in previous years led me to call home more frequently than the seeming contentment and not looking for the next thing I have in my life currently.

I love my job. My roommates and I have learned to get along well. I bought a new fish friend. There is a new volleyball crew to play with every Tuesday. New interesting friends and relationships are popping up here and there. So, things are good. No major complaints to be made. No things to be worked through in deciding if I should stay or go.

But this week, in the contentment, something happened that is worthy to write home about.

A good something.

A kind something.

A generous something.

As I have said, I love my job. I get to help people help other people. Sometimes I get to be the actual helper, but mostly I coordinate the helpers.

This week we completed our 50th weatherization with Furman University Shi Center for Sustainability (their 100th). Weatherizations are a grant funded program where we go in and change out light bulbs and caulk seams and tighten up duct work and do many other things to create savings for the homeowner on the cost of their utility bills so they can stay in their home in a more energy efficient and affordable manner.

The weatherization we did this week had a lot of neat connections and stories tied to it. My favorite one, however, involved a mattress.

The homeowner's grown children were there helping with the project as well as a group from Mattress Firm. Eunice, the homeowner, was telling her children since all this work was getting done, the next step toward home improvement for her was to save up for a new mattress. She did not know where the other volunteers were from.

One of the Mattress Firm employees overheard her.

That employee took initiative and did something about what they heard.

By 3:00 that day a new mattress, box springs, fancy pillows and bed frame were delivered and setup in the home as the old ones were being hauled away. Though this seems small, to Eunice it was not. Her eyes teared up as they gave such a lovely kindness to her.

That's just one of the many stories I could tell as to why I love my job and why my life isn't much to complain about these days.

To get to work with people as they give their time, talents and resources without any pay or much recognition is a privilege I would not soon give up. Though a new mattress was easy to come by this day and may not seem like a huge deal in the scheme of things, stories like this are what give hope.

So, I may not have much to write home about in figuring out life right now, but I am glad to write home about stories like this.

Farewell to a Fish

He was a good fish.

He was my second fish.

His name was Franklin Numero Dos. (because Franklin the first only lasted 3 days)

He was my fish for 3 years.

And last week he swam no more.

He was a resilient fish. Many a day I forgot to feed him. Many a day I did not tell him hello. Many a day he went on swimming in his coffee pot home assuming I'd check in with him sooner than later and enjoying his colorful rock floor home.

He had personality. Yes. My fish had personality. (just ask those that doubted me and then came to agreement with the fact.)

He was interested in what was happening outside his coffee pot world. He liked to have sleepovers with friends when I went out of town.

And on my last trip out of town, I opted to leave him in the care of the roommates, who were not used to this and (very apologetically) forgot to feed him.

He could go a few days on no food, but a full week made him meet his limit.

Arriving home to swim no more Franklin hit me a little harder than anticipated.

When I left I said, "if he dies, it's ok, he's just a fish." As I said every time I left him with someone. And it is ok.

But apparently, to me, he was more than just a fish.

He was the most consistent thing in my life in the past 3 years.

I got him as part of my list of 28 things to do before turning 29...well, he was the replacement for the fish that I got to accomplish the task of getting a pet.

He has lived in 3 homes with me (surviving two moves). One family of 4 and 4 roommates got to know Franklin as a delightful household friend.

In the time of having Franklin, I have had 5 jobs and one slight season of unemployment.  I bought a new to me car with cash, tried internet dating (ugh), attempted to buy a house, welcomed a new niece to the world, bought a bike, ran three half marathons (and many more miles in between), traveled to places both familiar and new, married off beloved single girls, had adventures and mishaps all the same...

Some crazy terrible and wonderful life events have happened that he got to hear about in our morning chats. (He was a good listener)

And when I saw him swimming no more, late last Friday after returning home from a fantastic week of building houses, I shed a few tears that I didn't know I would shed over a fish.

I have never really understood the attachment of people to their pets and animals or how upset they are when they die, but now I do.

They become your friend. A little comfort in an uncomfortable world.

Some consistency in a world of what if and maybe and perhaps.

I will miss my fishy friend.

And perhaps I will get another.

But I doubt that any fish will be as meaningful to me as Franklin Numero Dos, the French Roast Fish, who saw me through one of the most transitional and up in the air seasons of my life.

Swim in peace my friend, Franklin.

You were a good fish.

Why I Blog

Sometimes I think blogging is silly and a little narcissistic. Why would people want to know my thoughts or experiences? Maybe I shouldn't waste the time or space on the World Wide Web.

But then the Facebook On This Day app shows me a blog I wrote 2 or 3 or 4 years ago. 

(It doesn't show much from a year ago because I wasn't blogging. Because I didn't have much positive or thoughtful to say at the time or energy to sit and write)

The blogs that pop up remind me of things. Of places I've traveled. Of feelings I've felt. Of thoughts I've dwelt on and worked through. Of the many wonderful and adventurous and everyday experiences I've had.

Most recently they remind me that the feelings of late are feelings I've had before.

When there was a major relational shift because the single girls dear to me have gotten married and are now wives and I am still here hoping to someday have that for myself. And while being exceedingly happy for them, knowing it's never going to be the same as when we were roommates and valentine dates. (ref: Seasonal Shifts)

Lindsey (beloved roommate of 2012-13), Ashley (longest lasting adult friendship I have),
and Aly (my go to dancing and dinner gal)

The ones about job shifts and leaving and changing and looking. And though I love my job now, being reminded it's still not the thing in life that will fulfill. (ref: Commitment, Transitions and Satisfaction; Already, but Not Yet)

And the travels and adventures. The longing to do more and see more. But remembering I have done lots and have seen lots. (ref: We Went to the UK: Edinburgh; Why Israel?; To Maine and Back in a Day; I think I'll go to Boston; Up, Up and Away)

Edinburgh, Scotland; Jerusalem, Israel; Portland, Maine; Boston, Massachusetts;Eleuthera, Bahamas

I blog to remember.

To know on the days I'm questioning and longing and occasionally sinking that I have hope and experiences and memories that are worth having and never worth trading.

On days I wake up and I'm 32 and realize I have not put much (or any) intentionality into finding a forever companion and wonder, am I too late, have I missed my chance? It reminds me I was taking other chances, I was making my own way. I was (and am) growing and becoming a better version of myself. And can still hope that, just maybe, my forever travel buddy and adventure friend and struggle through things with person is out there somewhere adventuring and becoming a better version too.

And sometimes I write in hopes of encouraging and inspiring. Hoping someone might read and feel not as alone or have a laugh at my silly meanderings or that they can take a risk like flying to the UK with someone they have only met twice!

To remember, to not forget, to encourage, to hope.

That's why I blog.

And, really, I blog because my mom and Aunt Kris encouraged and asked me to : )

Why the H?

Recently, a new friend asked why I capitalize the H at the end of my name and not the beginning.

To which I responded with thanks for noticing, an explanation and moved him into the category of people I like more than others because he noticed and cared to know why. (If you have asked or noticed or taken to writing my name that way as well, know that you are in that group too!)

But really, why do you write your name that way, you ask?

Art by London as a birthday gift years ago before she was an almost 13 year old.

Honestly, I don't completely remember when it started or why. Like an old family nickname or something, it just is now. The was and how are a little hazy.

One friend inspired the shortening of it to a signature of just hH, somewhere along the way.

But I think it mostly comes from being left handed, a little bit (ok, a lot) sassy and some quirky mixed with creativity.

I am left handed. I do things backwards. When I was learning to contra dance I always twirled the wrong direction (and still do sometimes). We [the left handed society] tie our shoes backwards and push rather than pull pens across paper. I think differently than other people often and I believe this partially comes from being left handed, a slightly tilted perspective on the world. So if doing things backwards is my lot, why not write my name backwards?

Sassy, sarcastic, quick witted, etc. might also be words that describe me, but of course in the kindest and most uplifting kind way to be sassy and sarcastic. People ask me regularly if I know that my name can be spelled the same backwards and forwards. They don't state it as a neat fact like "hey, your name is spelled the same backwards and forwards, that's neat" they ask "did you know your name..." and I do appreciate them noticing. However, this has been my name my whole life. So yes, clearly, I know (and like) that my name is a palindrome and I notice other palindromic things as well. Some favorites are 'madam I'm Adam' and race-car. So perhaps I spell my name that way a little out of sass in response to a question I have oft been asked.

Quirky, creative, weird...however you want to label it. I have always been a misfit, fitting in enough to get by but never entirely, maybe not at all at times. At an early age I learned that I wasn't quite like the others. In order to live a life not of frustration and trying to hard, I owned my quirk, flew my freak flag if you will (ref: the Family Stone). I became ok with being a little outside the circle and often not fitting in.  So writing my name in a way that is unique of the other Hannahs out there seemed to be a good idea at the time (I guess, like I said, I don't remember when this started).

So why do I write my name backwards? I think all the above are true...

but mostly,

I like to write it that way and it seems other people like it too : )