I heart N.Y.

I know, I know.

I'm like a magician suffering from short-term memory loss: I can disappear easily enough, but then I forget to come back. Meanwhile the audience members, shifting uneasily in their seats, begin to nervously whisper: "Is that it?" "Is he coming back?" "Can we get a refund?"

(The answer to the questions, by the way, are: no, yes, and dream on.)

So why the absence? Well, two main reasons.

The first, has to do my own kind of magic. You've all probably seen a magician put his lovely assistant in a box and then cut her in half with an oversized saw. Well, whoop-dee-doo. I can top that. I can split myself into three parts, just by traveling!

Every time I leave my family in New York and return to Guatemala, I ship myself back in pieces.

The first, obviously, is my body. Cramped from coach, and exhausted from the 3am departure, my body takes care of the dirty work: lugging the luggage from the airport to the apartment. For the first couple of days back I have all the get-up-and-go of a salted slug.

Thankfully, my brain arrives shortly thereafter. The brain begins to ask my body some important questions: Why isn't there any food in the house? Shouldn't you at least unpack? Hey buddy, how about taking a shower?

So, some 48-72 hours after returning, I'm a semi-functional human being again. On the outside, anyway.

The last part to arrive always takes its own sweet time in returning... my heart. You ever see the "I ♥ NY" logo? Well, take a closer look at it.. there's a good chance that the heart you're looking at is mine.

Don't get me wrong, its not that I don't love Guatemala. I do... just not right away. Leaving my family is the damned hardest thing I ever have to do, so it makes sense that my heart just won't depart.

Which kinda complicates life back here in Guate. I dread undertaking any kind of important work upon returning for fear that someone will criticize me with the astute observation: "it seems as if your heart isn't in it."

Eventually and inevitably my heart does return, only slightly worse for wear, and I can get back to serious business of loving my life in Guatemala.

Long ago I realized that "culture shock" isn't encountering a new language, different food, or unfamiliar customs. That's the fun stuff. Real culture shock is waking up and realizing that your heart is another country. So please forgive my recent silence. I'll be back online and updating the blog frequently, now that I survived yet another heart transplant!

Tomorrow: the much less mushy reason to explain my absence!

Posted by elcanche at August 2, 2007 11:01 PM