Home again, home again, jiggity jig!

We made it home! 

Both boys fell asleep in the van a few hours from home.  Superman is a heavy, heavy sleeper and was tucked right into his bed, dead to the world.  He woke up this morning and asked how he had gotten there.  Bear, our light sleeper, woke up when we stopped the van in the garage and let out a hearty cheer.  EEeeeeee!  A sentiment we could all share. 

Because my brain is as scattered as my laundry, I'll just post today about two of the most bizarre things that happened to us in Costa Rica. 

Amazing thing #1: While standing on the beach in Manuel Antonio an adoptive dad struck up a conversation with me.  I assumed his son was Ethiopian, but I wanted to get a little deeper into the conversation before asking.  He asked where I was from and I said Texas.  He said his family may be moving to Dallas and asked about diversity.  We began talking about the large Ethiopian population and some good restaurants in Dallas.  At this point in the conversation (a good 5 minutes in, mind you) I inquired about the son's name and was startled to realize I recognized the name!  And the child!

Me:  "I know you!  We traveled in northern Ethiopia together!"

Can you believe it?  I was standing on the beach in Costa Rica talking to one of Bear's crib buddies from his orphanage.  We hadn't seen or talked to this family in 2 years, since our very first trip to Ethiopia.   

It was totally surreal.  I ran to get Jon, while he went to find his wife and their newest baby.  We talked briefly and got caught up with each other quickly and made plans to meet up if indeed they did move to Dallas, or if we made any plans to travel to California next summer.  It was such a blessing to run into them, and I am still a little stunned by the encounter. 

Bear and Besu.  Friends from the earliest of days. 

Theo, we wished you were there too!

 

 

Strange event #2 was not nearly as cool, but just kind of weird.  The line for customs and immigration was loooooong.  We inched our way through, Superman playing with a Minion toy I had saved for just such an occasion, and Bear getting in an entire hour plus nap, waking while we were still in line. 

 

(As an aside, all you missionary families reading or frequent world travelers, look into the Global Entry Program.  In my opinion it would be totally worth it to skip that line.)

 

When we were nearing the end (and by that I mean we only had two more turns in the belly of that giant snake) I struck up a conversation with the woman behind me.  We talk for a minute and she immediately asks me if I'm from Montana.  I could tell she was dying to know.  I'm a little stunned, say yes, and ask how she knows.  She said she could tell by how I talked, for you see she had heard me talk for close to an hour and a half to my family.

 

This kind of thing used to happen to me all the time but hasn't in a good long while.  Since it has been over a decade since I lived in Montana, I thought I had shed the accent.  I was happy (albeit it a little bemused) to discover I still sound like a northerner, though. 

 

As it turns out a little international travel is all you need to connect you to your roots; both in Ethiopia and Montana.