Where did the summer go?! (a recap)

Last weekend, I had my first salted caramel mocha of the season.

It was everything I wanted it to be. Like, the baristas at my favourite Starbucks knocked it out of the park- light whip cream, lots of caramel, and the perfect ratio of salt (aka the best part). Delicious. Everyone here is all about the pumpkin spice but, while I agree it is delicious, I just don't think it holds a candle to the salted caramel mocha.

Probably an unpopular opinion, but oh well. Long live the salted caramel mocha!

Also...hey. It's been almost two months since I wrote something here. Part of me wants to say "oops" or "my bad" but let's be honest: that's not really surprising. In fact, I would suggest it is fairly typical. My name is Tara and you can go ahead and call me the very worst blogger. It's OK.

At least this time, I feel like I have a reason for this period of radio silence: this summer was, in a word, BANANAS. 

Where did the summer go?! 

A recap of the last two-ish months 

1.  We moved.

One of the last shots taken at our old apartment.

This empty room was our bedroom for about four year. 

This is the one thing I credit for the chaos this summer.

Backstory: we have been thinking about moving for a while. I loved our old apartment - it was my first apartment, so lots of fond memories, etc. - but it was a bit pricey for a one bedroom. Add in a few of the other less than ideal elements (the carpet, the lack of an elevator and the 230197390 stairs, and the fact that it was basically an oven in the summer) and the fact that we simply...wanted more space and the move was inevitable.

So when a friend mentioned she was looking for a tenant in her house, we jumped on it. 

After six years living in the same place, I forgot how much moving...well, sucks. Between preparing the new place, packing, actually moving, cleaning the old place...it was both an expensive and exhausting process. This is basically what we did for all of July. I wish that was an exaggeration.

That said, I have to give credit where credit is due. We would not have been able to do this move without help from some great friends. Big thanks to Tasha and Joanne (our painting crew) and Davith and Wade (the moving crew) - you guys were such an incredible help. Seriously. You're the best.

Also, I would be remiss if I didn't take a minute to mention my wonderful husband, who essentially did the lion's share of the moving when I was away on vacation. Not an enjoyable task, but a necessary one and I appreciate him for it. 

Coming into September, I would say the new place is about 90 per cent set up. Still some work to do in some areas, but it is coming along.

2.  I went on vacation 

(left to right) the fall, the cup

& two of the best people you'll ever meet.

As I do (almost) every summer, I made the trek to Ontario to visit my best friend for a few days. As mentioned, this happened smack dab in the middle of our move. Some years, we plan my trip around a concert, but other years, we just...hang out. The downside of living two provinces away from your best friend is that you don't really get to do typical best friend things (like catch a movie or grab a coffee) on the regular.  So this year, we did that and it was good.

I was also able to squeeze in a short visit with another sweet, long distance friend. At the end of the week, I took the train from Toronto to Ottawa for a couple days. A short trip, but totally worth it. 

3. We went on vacation 

I used my second week of vacation in August and Jeff and I went to one of our favourite places: Newfoundland! We went to Corner Brook last October for our honeymoon and loved it so much we knew we wanted to go back soon. We spent most of our time during our honeymoon at Gros Morne National Park but, due to the time of year, there were some things we were unable to do. I didn't think we would go back so soon but when we found out about the whole free park pass thing for 2017...well, it was just too good an opportunity to pass up!

Although there were a few hiccups during our trip - most notably, we missed our flight there due to a combination of human error and technical glitches and had to rebook - I am happy to report western Newfoundland is just as wonderful in August as it is in October. It was an awesome trip.

4. We were away almost every weekend 

And it was mostly for birthdays and family things. Not a terrible way to spend the weekend, but it did mean we were on the go a lot. 

5. I took the entire summer off ministry 

I thought this would be more difficult than it was but if I'm being honest, it was necessary. 

Last year, I volunteered with both Sunday morning kids ministry and midweek youth group. I love serving in these areas - I think investing in children/youth is important and I have built many really great relationships with some of the kids who take part in the programming at our church.  I want to see these programs succeed and am willing to give my time, talents and energies to make that happen. Last year, that meant serving every Sunday morning and every Wednesday.

It was fine at first. But by the time June rolled around, I was just...well, burnt out. 

I didn't see that at first. When our pastor mentioned giving the regular volunteers the summer off, I was excited for the break, but I didn't know how needed it really was. After all, you can't pour from an empty cup...and I was feeling pretty empty.

I still don't feel totally rested (likely due to items 1-4) but the cup is a lot fuller coming into the fall. It also helps that I made some decisions about ministry during the break - specifically in relation to the amount of time I am able to give. Sometimes I feel guilty about taking a step back but overall, I feel at peace, which tells me this is what God is calling me to right now. I need to learn how to rest - and how to trust that things won't fall apart without me there all the time. 

So there you have it - summer 2017 in a nutshell. It was crazy and fun and stressful and wonderful all at the same time. I'm sad to see it go, but excited to see what God has in store for the tail end of 2017.

#nofilter : the warrior in the field (no.1)

At the end of 2016, I made one of those 101 things to do in 1,001 days lists. I don't usually make goal lists this long - I like to keep them short, both in terms of items and timeline - but this felt right so I went with it.

Some of the items on this list are very specific, like finish (er...start) my basic emergency management course and pay off outstanding credit cards, while others are much more general.

Like number 9, which is to learn how to take better photos with my new camera.

A little backstory: in high school, I was that person in my group of friends who was always taking photos. I always had a camera with me - at school, at dances, at random adventures. This came in handy during my Grade 11 year - most of my best friends graduated and, as a gift, I put together scrapbooks for them filled with photos of our high school adventures.

These photos were not amazing by any stretch of the imagination - shot on cheap cameras by a shooter with very little skill - and even though I cringe looking back at some of them now (like the ones where I have black hair. I'm not sure why 16-year-old me thought that was a good look...) I'm really happy I have them.

My obsession with documenting everything waned after high school. I still took a lot of pictures while on vacation or at concerts, but for the most part, the only shooting I did was for my journalism classes (and even that was limited). By the time I started working at the paper, the camera I bought in 2009 reached the end of its useful life, and I transitioned to using my phone as my primary camera until last summer.

A couple things changed in the lead up to purchasing my first DSLR. First, the paper I worked for - in a move that still baffles to me to this day -  laid off all the photographers and shifted that work to reporters. We were all given smartphones and told that would be sufficient for the photo needs at the paper. Needless to say it did not take long to realize that was not true, so a few of us started to learn how to use the gear that had essentially been left to collect dust in the photo room.

This was my introduction to DSLR. At first, I used two lens and shot exclusively in automatic. By the end of my time at the paper, I started to experiment more with manual settings and while I think my photos improved over time, I was (and am) so keenly aware of the fact that I am not nearly as skilled as my many photographer friends.

The second thing that happened was my trip to Kenya. This trip was, in so many ways, a dream come true for me and after praying and saving and fundraising for more than a year, it was important to me to have a way to document the trip.

So, after months of research, we went to Costco and I bought my first DSLR.

(I also bought this lens. I got an incredible deal on it at BestBuy - I love it SO much.)

Almost a year later, I still love this camera - and I am still learning how to use it. I don't have as many opportunities to practice at work as I used to, so including it on the list felt like an appropriate way to encourage practice while also finding a balance between experiencing life as it happens instead of through a viewfinder.

All that preamble to say, as I learn, I wanted to share some of my favourite shots in a way that allows for a little more reflection that a Facebook album.

It feels appropriate to start with a shot from my first experience shooting in manual.

This is Philip, our Maasai guide. This was taken in the field by the school on the day we did our warrior training. 

I almost deleted this shot because it looked so dark in the viewfinder. I remember struggling to take photos I was happy with this day - it was really sunny outside and the field was open, meaning there wasn't much in terms of shade. Kind of like shooting into a window - I didn't do TV beyond my second year but I took enough to know that is a no-no.  

I kept this photo because I liked the composition. It's not quite rule-of-thirds compliant, but I like the sky and the clouds and the way the breeze is lifting the left corner of the shuka. Beyond the composition, looking at this picture brings me right back to sitting in that field, listening to Philip explain and demonstrate how to shoot an arrow and throw a conga.  

I hope I get to go back some day.

(Don't mind me here, starting another little blog series of sorts. Am having something of a blog identity crisis, minus the dramatics. Truth be told, the more I think about it, the more I don't want to settle into a niche. So, as a result, you get...a random assortment of topics. I hope you'll still stick around). 

1,485,000 words

I've completed a lot of tasks since returning from Kenya last month.

I've unpacked my bags, scrubbed the dirt from my trail shoes, and did several (incredibly necessary) loads of laundry.

I've picked jewelry to join my engagement ring, cross necklace and FitBit in the "daily wear" pile and I've tucked my passport away safely in the cupboard, with my old boarding passes and expired travel visa sticking out the sides. 

I've gone back to work.  I've started going back to the gym.  I've turned my focus to wedding planning. I'm changed - wilderness inevitably has that effect - but I'm adjusting.

There's one thing I still have to do, though - something I think about often, but put off because...well, it's daunting.

I have to sort through my photos.

All 1,485 of them. 

The Great Rift Valley, on the way from Nairobi to Kipsongol 

One of the things I knew I wanted before leaving for Kenya was a new camera. My Fuji called it quits a couple years ago (after about six years of consistent use) and while I debated a couple other models over the year, I found myself relying increasingly on my iPhone. I'm not a professional and I've generally had access to better cameras for work, so I didn't have as much of a need to have gear of my own. 

I knew an iPhone wasn't going to cut it for this trip, though. 

Jenna's epic heel click 

They say a photo is worth a thousand words. It's totally cliche, but I've found it's not really all that far from the truth. When I look through the 1,485 photos I took during my trip, it's not just the moment captured in the frame that comes to mind. It's the memories of what happened before and what happened after. 

Walking hand-in-hand with village children on the way to the build site.  Digging up dirt and clay in the mid-day sun.  Open air showers when we returned to camp. 

The way the lorry struggled over the rocks every time we turned left at the end of the road leaving camp. The way the wind felt during those drives. 

Sitting on the "deck" at Mike's tent at the end of the night, listening to the kids laugh and scream while playing spoons in the mess tent. 

And that's just the start. 

Phillip, our Maasai guide, playing cheat in the mess tent with the kids

So, if a picture is worth a thousand words, I've got about 1,485,000 words worth of story to sort through. I anticipate that will change - some of the photos are duplicates, some aren't going to be the quality I want. I think that's what makes it daunting. To go through that process is to sort through all those memories, to remember and revisit all the feelings and emotions associated with that time, and make decisions about which of those 1,485 photos come the closest to telling the stories that I can't find the words to relate.

Sunrise, safari morning

So, for those who have been waiting to see photos...I promise I'm working on it. The longer I'm home, the easier it becomes to reflect on the experience and share stories with others. My thoughts are more organized and I'm less tongue-tied. It's getting easier.  But it's a work in progress.

And let's face it: 1,485 photos is a freaking lot of photos! 

Community celebration, last day in Kipsongol

to be continued...

the first 16 days

so um hi!

it's been a while.

it's been some time.

I didn't forget about this space, though (even though it probably seems like I have).

The last couple months have been...full.

Oleleshwa at sunset 

Ten days. Sixteen travellers (11 kids, five adults)

Fifty-two hours in transit to and from destination. 

Three airports. Two six-hour bus rides. 

Four build days. One six kilometre walk to fetch water.

Five lorry break-downs. 500 shillings to buy enough food for seven people. 

About a dozen cups of chai hot chocolate (seriously recommended). 

More donkeys and goats than I could ever begin to count. 

+ a sense of community unlike any I had ever experienced before.

I have been home for 16 days. During those 16 days, I have been asked the question "how was Kenya?" so many times I've lost count. 

The answer is always some variation of the same thing:

"It was great!" or "It was awesome!" or "It was wonderful!"

And all of these things are true. But none of them come close to doing a justice to the experience.

Of flying into Nairobi at night and seeing all the lights from the plane

Of eating some the most incredible fruit 

Of leaving camp and having children running toward you so they can hold your hand on the walk to the build site (aka their school)

Of seeing the before and after - the old school, in its desperate state, next to the new builds

Of not speaking the same language, but still finding lots of ways to connect

Of waving and smiling at everyone you see because they're waving and smiling at you

Of that night when the sky was so clear it was like being in a planetarium 

Of sitting around a camp fire while your Maasai guide shares about his culture 

Of being blown away as you listen to seven high school girls talk about what the opportunity to pursue education means for them

Of sitting in a classroom in the dark while children take turns reading to you in English and Swahili 

Of creating a community with a group of people you probably wouldn't otherwise have the chance to meet or interact with

Of feeling like you're part of something, everywhere you go

"You are highly welcomed in Kenya."

This phrase was repeated often during our time in Kipsongol, although none of us needed the repetition to know it to be true. We were taken in immediately by the community, embraced without hesitation. And it had nothing to do with us - it's just the way things are. There is a deep current of love that runs through rural Kenya that manifests in acts of care.

People look out for one another. And for someone whose love language is acts of service, seeing that in action affected me on a deep level. 

The crew, after a six kilometre roundtrip with Mama Katherine, Mama Norma and Mama Carolyn to fetch water. The water we carried was enough to last four days. 

The first 16 days home have passed quickly, filled with work and appointments and wedding planning and more work. I have had the chance to meet with some people and tell them about my trip, but I am very much still processing the experience - and more specifically, grappling with the question of whether or not its possible to create that same sense of community here at home - and if so, how to go about doing it. 

Dear friends, since God loved us, we also ought to love one another

1 John 4:11 (NIV)