Sweet home Indiana!

Home for the holidays! I'm still here, although I'll be heading back to Tanzania via Switzerland in a week. Thanks for all of the emails/phone calls; I've been unexpectedly busy of late, but a New Year's resolution to start answering such things in a timely fashion is in the works. Thanks for putting up with me (what can I say? I have great friends and family!)

As most of you know, I'm still enjoying the friendly confines of Peru, Indiana. Some memorable moments:

* Notre Dame vs Alabama- Best basketball game I've been to in my life, with the possible exception of when my high school team won regionals. The Irish were big underdogs against the then #4 ranked Crimson Tide, though an arena packed with screaming students undoubtedly helped to even the odds. Dan and I yelled ourselves silent and hung around til long after the game finished just to soak up the electric atmosphere. Ah, if only I could be here for the big dance!

* Peru's not really a backwater of civilization, but it does sort of seem that way sometimes. Try buying alcohol with a Passport - even if they don't flat out refuse it as ID, you'll have to explain how it's laid out in exhaustive detail. After all, those passports can be sort of tricky sometimes, what with all their stamps and pages and all. (Since it's Christmas Eve, I should probably lay off the sarcasm a bit - don't want coal in my stocking after all!)

* Who says class reunions aren't fun? I had an impromtu one of sorts the other night when I went to the local bar ("Whisky River") to meet up with some old friends from high school. Peru's a small town, but we take our drinking seriously, so the bar proved far more impressive than I expected. The decor wasn't much to look at, but they had a few pool tables, a small stage with plenty of room for dancing, and even a mechanical bull in the back! (Think of a local dive bar with Texas pretensions and you'll get a decent sense of the vibe.) It was surreal seeing everyone after a (God am I getting old!) 7 year absence. All the old cliches came into play- the kid who was a dork in high school was now playing lead guitar on the stage in a local rock band; girls who had been gorgeous in high school, looked worn after a decade of cigarettes and 2 children. The popular, hot jock who wouldn't give me the time of day in high school hit on me (without realizing who I was) when I went to the counter to order drinks. Strangely enough, almost no one recognized me- a surprise given that I was involved in about half of the extra curriculars at school and couldn't be bothered to stay at home for more than an hour during my junior/senior years. I'm hoping that its due to the surface details- amazing how a different hair style and art-school glasses can change appearances, right? It's probably also due to the fact that I was chomping at the bit to leave Peru; I didn't hate high school and fit in just fine, but I couldn't wait to get to college to meet other Democrats, read more Judith Butler, meet people who had grown up in such exotic locales as Pittsburgh and St. Louis. There's a passage in Edgar Lee Masters' "Spoon River Anthology" that summed up my impatience/insecurities perfectly:

I loathed you, Spoon River. I tried to rise above you,
I was ashamed of you. I despised you
As the place of my nativity.
And there in Rome, among the artists,
Speaking Italian, speaking French,
I seemed to myself at times to be free
Of every trace of my origin.
I seemed to be reaching the heights of art
And to breathe the air that the masters breathed,
And to see the world with their eyes.
But still they'd pass mywork and say;
"What are you driving at, my friend?
Sometimes the face looks like Apollo's,
At others it has a trace of Lincoln's."
There was no culture, you know, in Spoon River,
And I burned with shame and held my peace.
And what could I do, all covered over
And weighted down with western soil,
Except aspire, and pray for another
Birth in the world, with all of Spoon River
Rooted out of my soul?

Maybe Wolfe was right, maybe you can't go home again, but at least you can reconcile yourself with it from a distance. Silly, arrogant girl! Time works miracles; I laugh at Peru sometimes but leap at chances to go back, and nothing puts life into perspective like Tanzania. On the drive back from Indy today I found myself catching my breath (literally) at how lucky I was to be born in Peru, with its modern medicine, steady police force, and job opportunites, however modest they may be. 7 years is a bit late to be giving thanks to the home that made you who are, but what better time to make amends for such sins than Christmas?

So it goes. Much love to everyone (and Happy Holidays!)

Katie