In less than a month I will be going to Central America to the country of Nicaragua.
Maybe you've heard of it? It's the country that for years was held hostage to a communist party and it left the country in ruins for years.
Nicaragua is the place where I was born...almost 40 glorious years ago. :) A country that has been recovering for years but that is on its way up.
I left when I was 5 yrs old. To be honest, I don't remember much. My family and I left to go to Colombia and with our departure we also left tons of family and friends. I only remember glimpses of my time there.
I remember that one night when we were at home and heard the gerrilla militia approaching. Parents locked the doors of our home and I remember being taken by mom under a table as she laid on top of me. We heard all the gunshots around and waited until they were gone.
I went back when I was 18 but only for a few days and with one agenda...to attend the funeral of a grandmother I never got to meet. But as a teenager I didn't appreciate my time there as I should have. Now, at 39 years of age, I will be going back to this country, my country, the one whose blood runs through my veins. Back with an american passport but with a nicaraguan heart. And yet, I can't help but ask myself...will I feel like I belong? It's been so long. Will they recognize me as one of their own?
I may look like my fellow countrymen, I may fluently speak our beautiful spanish language BUT, will I belong?
I have traveled some, but this time I'm a bit nervous. Not because I am not up for a new adventure, but because, I really do hope that once I get there I will feel like I belong.
I don't know if I remember feeling this way when, at the age of 15, the family and I came to America. Oh the stories I can tell you of my first days/weeks in the USA. At least in Nicaragua I will know the language.
I now belong to the USA. And I know it was not a mistake nor a random chance. It was God ordained. Oh the stories I could tell you so you would see how God orchestrated for me to be in this place, for such a time as this. The fact alone that today I find myself here, writing these thoughts, hosting a blog, in a language I couldn't even speak at 15 years of age...oh the stories I could share.
We'll see how it will all unfold when I touch my Nicaraguan soil but this I am certain of,
this trip is not by chance...it's once again an event God ordained.
One thing is for sure. I'm a blessed chica to get to belong to more than my country of birth and even more blessed that I get to go back and rediscover that little piece of earth in Central America.