Hangin' Loose...

So, I just got back from a ridiculously nice vacation in Hawaii, compliments of my Dad.

A Hawaiian cruise, so far as I can gather, is the exact opposite of mud hut living in Sudan.

Well, except maybe for…

 

No, there truly are no exceptions.

Eating endlessly aboard a 13+ story floating hotel/small country is in no way similar to living among an animistic, relatively isolated bush community in Southern Sudan.

This was somewhat of a (dream) family vacation, with only a few cast adjustments. Take away my little brother, his wife and the (otherwise very spoiled*) grandkids. (*This is so you aren’t tempted to feel bad for their exclusion, which they themselves chose.) Add in good ol’ Kimmie, my roommate from Sudan (and possibly, new family favorite).

I think we’d all agree, it made for a grand time. We went snorkeling in the clear-blue waters of the Pacific. Biking down a volcano in Maui. Got sunburned kayaking off Kona. Cliff-jumped and slid down waterfall slides in Hilo Bay. Took in the silence and saw the “black tears” (drops of oil still surfacing from the wreckage) at Pearl Harbor. Fought the waves and hit the sand in Waikiki. Caught a luau and became certified (no, for seriously) hula dancers in Honolulu.

And, in general, had a really, really wonderful time.

I got to see my brother and his wife for the first time in two and a half years and was happily reunited with KP after our (relatively short but emotionally taxing) two-month separation. Traveling with the Clinard Clan is always an experience—but one Kimmie seems to have come through just fine. We were pampered and spoiled rotten—I’m glad I had her to enjoy it with.

(This wasn’t a missionary’s vacation, to be sure. It was really neat to acknowledge it as just another way God provides in pretty neat ways. I mean, imagine! What a dream!)

As dissimilar as Lopit and Hawaii are, I couldn’t help but thinking about the former while enjoying the latter. I try to keep my “In Africa…” comments to a bare minimum here in the States, and often fumble awkwardly when acquaintances want to small-talk about what I do for a living, for fear of being That Girl who (as KP and I call it) drops the A(frica)-bomb whenever possible.

But with Kim I was free to wonder aloud about what the Lopit would think of the cruise ship. Or just how Ellen and Grasshopper would react to being put in our kayak, surrounded by more water than they could ever imagine. (The conclusion was: absolutely and completely terrified.) And it was nice to use the inside jokes. The “remember when…”s. And to speak or exclaim in Lopit to someone other than my dog or horse.

The mountains that rose high and green against the blue sky made me wish I was “home” a bit, back on our familiar mountainside with our familiar friends.

Luckily, however, I had a handful of all-you-can-eat ship restaurants and Kim’s hilarious antics to distract me out of my nostalgia…