May!

*So this is what happens when you write a blog over several days. It's not smooth, but it works.*

I woke up this morning tired, wanting to stay where I was, knowing that outside of my covers was not a place I wanted to be. But with steely resolve (and after three slaps of the large, well placed button entitled snooze), I threw off the covers and shook off my tiredness to face a day even Rachel Myers would call dreary (she's living in England).

But the point of this blog entry isn't to tell you how cloudy and stormy the day was, but rather to let you know why I am tired. I am tired because, I travel, and I travelled because I'm tired. But I supposed they're different types of tired. I was not the sort of tired that you get when you've done to much, or pushed your body to extreme, or pulled an all-nighter for no good reason, just to feel like you did in college, but a tiredness that results from routine, from monotony. But don't cry for me dear blog readers (if I may steal the line of the lovely Madonn.. err Eva Peron), because for me monotony is a strange word, as I've become quite spoiled with the spectrum and assortment of activities that are presented to me throughout these Paraguayan weeks and months. When I say routine I realize its been two weeks of the same job, which has been interposed with trips to the movies, delicious trips for lomito arabe (think pita pocket), and even a hat throw into the bread making ring at a local bread shop... (which I must say, I was quite pleased with what came out of the oven).

So we, Team Paraguay (+1 Sam White, a friend, a teacher, and an inspiration to us all), decided to break this routine, by going to one of the most dangerous places (according to several reliable sources) in all of South America, Cuidad del Este, a border town. Shady, right? We showed up Friday night greeted in the terminal by Daniel, our taxi driver, a belligerent drunk/drugged dude and two guys fighting.

After that it was pretty tranquilo, seeing the sights of Ciudad del Este (Saltos de Monday, the Zoo, Friendship Bridge, the crowded market streets. Sadly, Itaipu Dam was closed for the weekend) on a rainy, holiday weekend. Not the best time to go, but fun was had, and a must see was checked off of our Paraguay to do list.

And now I'm back. In Asunción. Listening to the rain on the rooftop mixed with the sufficient but unimpressive speakers of my laptop. And I'm appreciative.

I am appreciative for the ability to travel. I'm appreciative to see more than my hometown, to see different cultures, to compare that to my own experiences to that of others. I'm appreciative of the contrasts, of the differences, and of the foods that are served. I'm appreciative of my friends and family, old and new, near and far. I'm appreciative for the people that I've met and have shaped me, making me, me. I'm appreciative for the gifts I've received, the concrete but mostly the kind that doesn't come with a bow. I'm appreciative of the God that loves.