A Nomad I Will Remain for Life

Christmas was a little different this year. I spent it in Punta Arenas, Chile... far away from my friends and family back home. However, I was surrounded by new friends here; I feel like we've become somewhat of a family. I don't think I've ever lived/worked with so many people who get along quite like we do. Let me take you back to when I lived in California. Yes, I lived with 6 other people and every night the house averaged at least 10 others, who would come play Nazi Zombies, blast loud music, and drink until the sun came up. It was horrible, loud, and I never had any privacy. Not to mention the endless amounts of drama that constantly came prancing through our front door each day; as well as the fact that my landlord/flatmate thought it was okay to unlock and go into my room whenever he felt the need to. I don't think I was unhappier than when I lived in that house in Costa Mesa, but then I moved to Huntington Beach and it was wonderful! Back to living in Chile:

(Chelsea with her yummy, baked Christmas food)

Like I said, Christmas was different, but we tried to make it as normal and comfortable as possible. We baked (as in Chelsea baked) goodies, had a secret santa office party, and attempted to do a little decorating. The guys cooked a big Christmas Eve dinner that consisted of cordero (lamb), mashed potatoes (that overflowed), green beans (with honey, so good!), and lots of good Chilean wine. It was so delicious, and the fact that the men cooked while the girls drank wine and watched a little tv, probably made it even better.  On Christmas morning the girls and I made brunch that consisted of pancakes, bacon, eggs, potatoes, and mimosas. I think we did nothing but stuff our faces the whole weekend. If anything, it taught me that Christmas isn't about Christmas decorations, sitting around a big fire, giving, and receiving presents, but it's about being around the people you love and care about. Family is who you make it and so is Christmas. I must admit... that it was very hard to be away from my family around the holidays. I held back tears many times when memories of past Christmases (is that a word?) came running through my mind, but I know that my family kept me in their hearts and thought about me the whole day, as I did them. Our Christmas Eve night ended with a Christmas movie and a choreographed dance from us girls. It was soo funny and no, I will not be posting the video of it. But here are some pics of our Christmas celebration:

(Most of the Nomadas Office Crew)

(From left to right: Our Christmas Tree made of wine bottles by yours truly, the wine, our yummy dinner, and brunch!)

(The Mashed Potatoes that Overflowed)

One of my Facebook friends recently posted a picture of a Georgia cotton field in the early morning. I have to admit... that even the sight of a foggy Georgia morning created a lump in my throat. I miss the sweet smell of the country, morning air that rolls through the house when Mom opens the front door to the kitchen for the cats to look outside. I miss passing horses in pastures and the occasional cow that escapes its home, only to find its way into our yard. I miss the smell of maple bacon that engulfs our old 18th century farm home, when Dad cooks breakfast every morning. I miss the closeness of family and coming down stairs to sit with the them before the craziness of morning ensues. For those who don't know, I grew up in the rural state of Georgia on an old plantation farm and our nearest neighbors were a mile or more down the road from us. If you know me at all, I'm sure you're shocked to hear that I even remotely miss Georgia. My dream has always been to get as far away from that Southern State as possible. (I think that I have managed to get as far away from it as possible here in Patagonia.) I remember not too long ago saying, "I will NEVER live in Georgia. I won't come back." After spending almost a year of not calling GA my home, I have realized that what everyone says is true, "Never say never. You'll find yourself back here one day." It's true. I can see myself years from now, when I'm ready to stop being a nomad, living in Georgia. Spending time away from my family on this trip has been a little bit tougher on me, because it's the first time that I don't have the convenience of jumping on the next plane to the states and heading home, as well as the convenience of a phone. I'm actually stuck here until my contract is up in March.

(A beautiful Georgia Cotton Field in the early morning. O my goodness! Does this mean that I'm country? NO! NEVER! NOT ME!)

 The puppy is still at the house, however, I have been keeping her outside and not letting her inside like I used to. She sleeps outside and hates it. I feel horrible, because I want to pick her up and love on her all the time, but I know that the likelihood of us finding a good home for her here are slim-to-none. The shelters here are all full and one of the shelter owners is even thinking that he will have to release all 100 plus dogs back out onto the streets of Punta Arenas, because no one is adopting here and he is running out of funds to keep the shelter open. I am trying to get little Calafate used to being outside in the cold rain and not used to the idea of being nice and clean and sleeping indoors where it's warm and dry. I have also found out that she squeezes herself through small openings in our fence and roams around in the neighbors yard. She prefers their yard to ours, I don't blame her. I also found out that the neighbors have been feeding her scraps. This explains why she NEVER eats the dog food that I put out every morning and afternoon.  I think it may be too late, she's officially spoiled. I haven't taken her on any walks, because it has been rainy here the past few days, and I don't feel like dragging a wet, smelly puppy through the muddy streets of Punta Arenas.

(She's sweet when she sleeps.... but she's crazy and eats feet when she's awake)