Culture Shock.

Hi! I know, it's been awhile. Turns out that having a baby puts a serious crimp in blogging time. :) But - here I am now! And I've been composing this post in my head for days.

My little brother got married last week. One week ago today, in fact. That in itself is so wonderful and deserves an entire post. He and Tara chose to do a destination wedding...and the destination was Isla Mujeres, Mexico...located about seven miles off the coast of Cancun in the Mexican Caribbean.

I've never really been out of the country. Well, I guess that isn't technically true. I spent one weekend in Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada when I was very young. I don't remember too well. I also spent one insane night in Tijuana during the summer of 1997. I also don't remember much of that, but for entirely different reasons. :) I took a cruise to the Bahamas in 2003 as well...but a cruise is really a very controlled environment. I didn't see much of anything while on that trip.

This time was to be very different! One week in Mexico, woo hoo! I had my passport, my swimsuit, my pasty white Minnesotan skin, and plenty of SPF 30. I was set. The journey to Isla was pretty uneventful; the flight was about equivalent to my flights to southern California. The shuttle from the airport to the ferry was only slightly crazy. The ferry from Cancun to Isla was kind of fun, even though it was raining.

I didn't really notice anything around me until I set foot off the ferry. Isla looked so...so poor! There were many damaged and abandoned houses and properties. The streets were cobbled and very narrow. Entire families were piled on mopeds. All the signs were in Spanish. People made their homes in tiny spaces between buildings or on second floors. Natives with leathery skin and dirty shirts sat on ratty lawnchairs outside ramshackle shops or houses. On our way to our hotel, what I saw wasn't paradise; it was poverty. I felt a bit depressed. I'm not sure what I expected, but this wasn't it. I'd never seen anything like this before.

Then we got to the hotel. No five-star resort this; Cabanas Maria Del Mar had a tiny little lobby, but a beautiful garden around which most of the rooms were situated. In two of the sections of the hotel, the rooms themselves were dated in decoration, and many systems, such as electrical and hot water, were rather suspect. The floors were tile. There was a small TV that broadcast pretty much exclusively Mexican programming - in Spanish. Did you know ESPN broadcasts in Spanish? I didn't.

Our room had air conditioning, which was a bonus in such a hot and humid climate. But the shower leaked all over the floor, and -- get this -- we were not allowed to flush used toilet paper down the toilet. That had to go into the wastebasket, regardless if you went Number One or Number Two. This utterly horrified me. I managed to accept and get used to the idea as the week progressed; but I never really liked it. On a high note, the forced change in habit did something to my brain to ensure that I stayed nice and regular all week. ~sigh~ Anyway, this was the rule because on Isla, they flush their waste -- including human waste -- directly into the ocean. This depressed me a bit more.

The turning point for me -- when I started seeing the beauty of the island rather than the poverty -- came after our first meal. I had embarked on this trip already afraid of the food and the water. I'd heard some nasty stories about "Montezuma's Revenge." So I wasn't sure if eating at any of the many restaurants on Isla would make me sick...I figured I'd have to find out the hard way. And I was very pleasantly surprised. Not only did I not get sick, but the food was excellent. And so was the beer.

After that, I began noticing how friendly the island natives are. Tourists are their bread and butter, so I suppose they have to be friendly. But they also seemed content with their lot in life. They may stuff seven people into 600 square feet, and everyone may sleep in hammocks, but at least they have a roof over their heads. Such a different mindset than Americans. Here, no matter what you have, it isn't enough. The house isn't big enough, the car isn't prestigious enough, your kid has to go to Harvard. In Mexico (on Isla, anyway), kids attend public schools for about 3 hours a day and only learn the very basics. I doubt many of them end up going to college. Instead, they get into the tourist trade, maybe make their product by hand, and work their asses off. All for that 600 square feet and a moped.

By the end of the week, I was comfortably speaking basic Spanish to the locals, dealing in pesos rather than American dollars, and enjoying every moment on the island. I saw the paradise. The major difference in culture was a big eye-opener for me, and helped me to put my own life into perspective. It's hard to take what you have for granted when you see people who have next to nothing. I imagine this is exactly how Angelina Jolie feels when she does her thing for the United Nations.

I will forever remember my trip to Isla, and I hope to return someday. I have a million pics posted to Facebook if you want to check them out. :)

Ten Years Ago Tomorrow.

On February 11, 2000, this world lost a beloved soul. John Charles Jansen passed away unexpectedly at the age of 27, leaving behind a devastated widow, a grieving family, stunned friends, and a legacy.

It was a tangled web we wove, Johnny and me. I first met him at a church youth group function. I was maybe 12 or 13 years old. He was four years my senior. He was wicked smart with a lightning-fast wit and a mischievous grin. He sang like an angel and played the piano. He made me laugh. He gave neck and shoulder rubs that to this day cannot be matched. I thought he knew everything...looking back, he was probably 80% BS, but at the time I thought he was utterly brilliant. I adored him from the beginning, and we became fast friends.

Fast forward a couple of years, to 1992. My first year of Summer Assembly, a church camp with a long and storied tradition in my church. I was one of only three people from my youth group to go that year, and the only girl...so I was essentially on my own as far as making friends. Turned out to not be a problem. On my first day there, I was walking down the hall of the girls' floor of the dorm, and happened to see a young lady unpacking her stuff in her room. I stopped at the door and asked her for the time. We were inseparable from that moment on. Jennifer and I shared a first name and a love of Mountain Dew...and that's where the similarities pretty much ended. She was a year older than me, grew up on a farm, and had a high school class of maybe 50 people. My dad used to joke that she and I were like City Mouse, Country Mouse. But we hit it off big time and became BFFs.

That was also the year that John and Jen hooked up. Sort of another City Mouse/Country Mouse pairing, but they were good for each other. John went off to college in Oklahoma later that summer. He and Jen kept in touch by phone and by letters. John also sent me a few letters telling me all about college life and how he pined for Jennifer. It was really very sweet. He ended up leaving Oklahoma and coming back to Minnesota shortly thereafter. He was in the Cities, finishing up school at the U of M. Upon graduation from high school in 1994, Jen went to Rochester for nursing school. They managed a successful long-distance relationship for nearly six years all told...a feat unlike anything I've ever seen. They finally moved in together after Jen graduated nursing school and moved to the Cities.

Shortly after that, in 1998, they were married.

I was always on the periphery of all this, going to college in Wisconsin and trying to manage a long-distance relationship of my own. I didn't have nearly the luck, which ended up being prophetic. Because at John and Jen's wedding, I met Mike. Mikey was Johnny's buddy, and I was vaguely familiar with him from high school. Also a year older than me, Mike had lived next door to my best friend all through high school, and was the type to grow his hair long and wear army pants and combat boots. He'd grown out of that phase by the time I met him. He and I hit it off fast, and were officially together within a month of John and Jen's wedding.

And that made the Fantastic Four: John and Jen, me and Mike. The four of us did EVERYTHING together. I probably spent more nights at John and Jen's house than I did at my own. We would hop in our cars and caravan to Jen's parents' farm or my parents' cabin every chance we got. We visited Troy and Julie in Wisconsin -- even spent two New Years Eves with them. We spent time with Harry and Nicole and their little guy (who isn't quite so little anymore). A whole lot of alcohol was consumed (in fact, Johnny made the drink that got me drunk for the first time), many bonfires were enjoyed, Jen cooked I don't even know how many excellent homemade meals for us...life was awesome. We were young, having fun, partying, and pretty much invincible.

Until I got the call that changed my life.

Jen called me at work that Friday morning, hysterical, telling me that Johnny had collapsed at work. I dropped everything, picked her up at home, and drove like a bat out of Hell to Johnny's office. We were too late...he was gone by the time we got there. Jen was a widow at age 24, after less than two years of marriage. Mikey had lost his best friend in the whole world. My dear friend, who gave the best bear hugs and made me literally shriek with laughter, would do so no more.

Johnny's untimely death deeply affected everyone who knew him. Jen, Mike, and I didn't know how to carry on without John. The aura of our little group was darker now, filled with tears instead of laughter. So much sadness. We tried, but we couldn't do it. Within the year, my relationship with Mike had ended. Shortly thereafter, Jennifer and I severed our friendship too. The sadness and the grief became toxic to our relationships (I think because we all reminded each other of John and what we had lost), and we all needed to go our separate ways in order to heal. God, that was the most painful time of my life.

As it does, time did eventually heal us all. Jen and I reunited a few years ago and still talk occasionally. So much changed in the five years that we were separated, and we both matured a lot. Our friendship will never be the same as it was ten years ago, but she will always be a cherished friend to me.

Mikey and I don't keep in contact really, but we are FB friends so we can each keep up with what the other is doing.

I sometimes wonder what sort of path our lives would have taken if Johnny had lived. Would we all still be together? Or would the separations that his death spurred have happened anyway, just under different circumstances? We'll never really know, but I'm pretty sure that each of our lives would be different than they are now.

Here's to you, Johnny. Ten years have passed, but it still feels like you left us yesterday. I miss you dearly.

John Charles Jansen

1/9/73 - 2/11/00

Troy, John, Mike in back, Harry in white. Taken 9/98.

On Finding Balance

I honestly think that finding your true balance is the most difficult thing to do in life. There are so many things to juggle, and so few hours in a day. Things like work, home, family, friends, and so many other obligations. I've discovered that it is very easy for me to lose myself as I work to meet the needs and demands of those around me. I also think this is an age-old problem for women in general. Never really thought this would happen to me, but tonight I realized that it most certainly has.

Imagine a playground teeter-totter. A balanced life, where a girl can take care of others and take care of herself, would show a perfectly horizontal board. Not too much weight on either end...just a comfortable balance. In my mind, balance = contentment.

I realized this evening that I have zero balance in my life. The board on my personal teeter-totter is completely cattywampus - the "others" end is planted firmly in the ground, while the "self" end hovers beyond reach in the air. Without even realizing it, I've allowed myself to put the needs of my children, my husband, and my career ahead of my own well-being. What? When -- and how -- did this happen?

The last five years of my life have seen many, many major changes. Job change, marriage, house, Kid #1, another job change, hubby's entrepreneurial success, Kid #2 (due any minute)...it's enough to overwhelm anyone:

• After coming within a cat's whisker of being fired from a job I loved by a crazy, vindictive boss I hated, I spent seven months unemployed and looking for a job. I think I cried every single day during that time.
• Becoming a wife was a HUGE adjustment for me. I'd been single and living on my own for so long, it took me a long time to get used to and fully accept sharing my life and my home with someone else. I sometimes still struggle with it. But not like I used to.
• About a year after we married, and while I was pregnant with our son, we bought our first house together. A huge milestone, to be sure, but one that carries plenty of stress.
• Our son was born six months later. My most joyous and scariest personal moment. I had no idea how much having a baby would change my relationship with my husband...and really, my whole life. All needs except his became irrelevant the second I heard him cry for the first time.
• The second job change took me out of a long daily commute and office environment, and put me in a telecommuting environment, where I get to work from home every day. Overall a hell of a gig, but I rarely leave my house anymore.
• In the last year, my husband's business has utterly exploded. It's wonderful to see him succeed, but his work takes him away from us a lot. And he deals with more than his fair share of stress.
• And now, our daughter is due to join us any day. I'll be so glad to be done being pregnant, and just cannot wait to meet this little lady. But I'm also a teeny bit apprehensive, knowing that our lives are going to change again as we learn how to parent two children.

This is my life these days. Quite frankly, it's kind of a lonely life. I don't get out much, I don't see my friends much, I don't do much for myself anymore. I've lost my balance. I don't get many opportunities to be good to myself, and when they come up I find myself feeling guilty for doing what I need so badly. I really can't blame anybody but myself...I don't really seek those opportunities out anymore, either.

So. Sob story aside, I've decided that 2010 is the Year of Jen. I'll need to give myself some time to recoup and readjust after baby arrives...but come this spring, I'm going to start paying better attention to myself. I know now that I have to, in order to be a better wife and a better mother. I don't have to be a slave to my husband's schedule, my house, or my reluctance to ask for babysitting help. Some ideas that I plan to implement (and I'm always open to more ideas):

• Regular date night with my husband
• Reach out to and get together with my friends more often (I really miss you guys)
• Join the local MOPS group to meet more mothers of young children near me
• Re-register for ECFE classes with Price and baby
• Find a volunteer opportunity in my community
• Go to my brother-in-law's shows when his band performs
• Re-join the YMCA and sign up for a volleyball league
• Reduce my dependence on e-mail and Facebook, and pick up the damn phone more often
• Pay better attention to how I dress. Wearing PJ pants and T-shirts all day every day just isn't good for me.

It feels kind of good to have a plan. Now I can't wait to implement it. But, I suppose...first things first. OK, Baby...you can come anytime now. Mama's ready.