Acostumbrandome

Acostumbrandome = Becoming accustomed, getting used to. Estoy acostumbrándome al rítmo de la vida aquí. Adjusting to the rhythm of life here has been like learning a way of living which seems both familiar and new, like trying on an old pair of pants and checking in the mirror several times to see how they fit. I feel like a stranger and an old hand all at once. I'm slowly unwinding, all of the cares and concerns that dominated my recent life in Philadelphia are falling out of my pockets and blowing away one by one in the the Texas breeze.

Maybe it's too soon to know or identify what's really happening within me, but I do feel a sense of relief. Life is unhurried again. Things are coming into focus again. I am in a process of remembering. Remembering that appearances matter minimally when our main concern is caring for the guests in our home, many who have lived through recent trauma. My hair straightener and summer dresses remain packed away in my suitcase. I'm remembering that TV is a distraction and escape from being present with people in a more authentic way. I'm remembering that it doesn't matter if the items in our home are the newest and nicest and most convenient. I am being stretched and asked to let go of the things that I've maybe been holding on to too tightly, like setting my own schedule or watching hulu before bed or spending hours of time on the internet, for that matter.

Life at the Annunciation House is centered around food; el desayuno is served at 7:00 AM, la comida at 12:oo PM, and the cena at 6:00 PM. Several times a day people come by with donations and we are set to the task of sorting boxes of overly ripe and rotting fruits and vegetables. Mangoes, zucchinis, limes, chiles, bananas, oranges, grapefruit, avocados, tomatoes... a brilliant assortment of colors that we weed through, tossing some into compost and some into crates. The old adage, "When in doubt, throw it out" does not apply here. When in doubt, save that moldly piece of fruit because someone will slice off the mold and find a way to use it. Yesterday we, the summer interns, spent a good amount of time during the second shift concocting a huge vat of tomato sauce out of tomatoes that I never would have purchased from a grocery store. A few days ago we received bags and bags of cherries and learned how to make agua de cereza, "cherry water." I love the challenge of trying to make use of the things that are donated. Receiving these leftovers certainly makes me think about the tremendous amount of food which must go to waste every day at grocery stores and bakeries all across the country... not to mention, the usual assortment of vegetables and lettuce that I let rot in the bottom drawer of my fridge because I don't prioritize their use.

I'm getting used to being served refried beans at every meal. We keep a constant stream of pinto beans soaking, cooking, and cooling in the house, and they are then seasoned and blended and served alongside rice, stew, salad, and/or spaghetti "soup", among other things. I think my digestive tract is still trying to produce enough enzymes to catch up.

I'm getting used to the heat and the long days, full of activity. I go to bed tired, but it is a different kind of tired than my exhausted days as a stressed out social worker. Now my work will be more physical than mental- mopping, sorting, popping (up and down to answer the door and the phone), chatting, organizing, dispensing, etc. This as opposed to driving all over the streets of Philadelphia in my little white car to see my clients and then spending hours documenting these encounters in an online database. The streets of El Paso are wide and almost deserted. Instead of little old Puerto Rican men and teenaged boys biking the wrong way down narrow one way streets, instead of countless stop signs and car alarms and crazy drivers, I see cactus. Cactus, dust, dry heat, strong wind. El Paso feels more tranquilo than any place I have ever lived before.