Peace Corps mandates that our bed is encased in a mosquito net. To avoid dengue, I like this. For any other reason, I do not. Our room wasn’t originally made for a double bed, so this green net seems to hog the little space that is left. I squeeze between the looming net and my the wardrobe to retrieve my coat from the hook. I try to push back the net to perch on the edge of the bed to put on my shoes or use the computer. And where am I to fold laundry? I watched Isaiah fold his shirts on top of the net, using is like a super tall table, but it is too high for me. This mosquito net was making me claustrophobic!
Then I stepped inside. I lifted the net by the foot of the bed and stepped under its hunter green kiss. Oh! Now it’s just like the net isn’t there. I can sit on the bed without the net tickling the back of my hair. I can use the bed as a wonderfully large space to fold laundry without anything getting in my way. Inside it’s (almost) like the flowy canopy bed every little girl dreams of. Almost.
I stepped inside and it struck me that this is exactly what I’ll be trying to do for the next two+ years. Stepping inside the Paraguayan culture. Stepping inside a family who has generously agreed to host Isaiah and I for a full 10 weeks. Stepping inside and tasting new foods and drinks. Stepping inside a brand new language…or two.
Stepping inside rather than standing back annoyed that the green net is in my way. Stepping inside rather than standing back thinking about how things aren’t like they used to be. It’s not about taking the net down and adjusting the room until it’s as much like our room in the States as possible. No. Rather, I’m adapting. I’m being changed. My eyes are being opened and refocused and it is good.