On Returning Home

In preparing to move to Nairobi, I packed up my life in Portland and returned to Alaska just in time for Thanksgiving with my family. My absence of 11 months, the longest to date, means that not only did I lose my Permanent Fund Dividend (*grumble* I'll get over that, one day...) but that the adjustment is more noticeable.

Here's a couple of highlights from my return to the Last Frontier:

1. FOOD
Living by oneself the meal planning goes something like this:

Day 1: Make a legitimate, fairly balanced meal
Days 2-3: Leftovers
Day 4-6: Repeat 1-3
Day 7-9: Eggs. Scrambled. Fried. Boiled. Eggs are cheap. Eggs are delicious.
Days 8-11: Single item meals, dishes not necessary. Cereal. Peanut butter. Oatmeal. Yogurt. Tortilla shells. (Start thinking "Socks for Supper" and "The Man Who Cooked for Himself")
Day 12ish: Finally, a trip to Mecca (aka Trader Joe's). 

However, my parent's house is its own grocery store. I can not get over how much food they keep stocked at all times. You want cereal? Chex, granola, rice crispies; Almond, regular or lactose-free milk? Pasta? Which of 12 different kinds of noodles would best suit the 5 sauce options? At any given moment I have the option to eat Indian, Moroccan, Mexican, Italian, Thai, Chinese, Greek or Southern food. It's crazy and awesome.

Now, I just have to get back in the habit of sitting at a table to eat.

2. Terrible Fashion
There is a reason Anchorage garnered the title of Worst-Dressed City in America. People make terrible choices like insulated mini skirts (pointless and the fashion equivalent of a skinny, decaf, vanilla latte), but when it comes to cold weather, I don't care how fabulous my outfit is, there is no way I'm taking my coat off.

3. Noise
My family isn't loud, but a 300% increase in the number of people I live with means that a lot more conversation and questioning happens. It took me a good two weeks to acclimate and not get put on edge at the seemingly constant talking. Molly and I are practically opposite personalities and that just ramps the confusion up further. I drive her insane, we have fun.

4. Down time
So. Much. Free. Time. Hence the number of external links in this post... Last Christmas I took up a couple art projects, probably the first I had done in 10 years (they were awful). I also practiced escaping from zip ties, a useful and painful experience.  This year I'm playing piano again, going to the gym a lot and, well, what was life before Pinterest?

5. Traditions
 Some things don't change, however, and I'm just fine with that.

-  Poring over Southern Living books with the girls; Discussing for hours what foods we should make this year.
- Watching White Christmas and the predictable, accompanying comments (Dad: "I really like Rosemary Clooney's hair.")
- Getting Moose's Tooth with Mom. That pizza, love of my life. Nuff said.
- Spending time at Kaladi Brothers. My first job, a million memories and still the best coffee I have ever had.
- Going to church at Eagle River Grace. My home church of 18 years, some key parts of my life are connected to that church and I am happy to see lifelong friends again.

I can only imagine what a year in Kenya will do to my perspective, I'll let you know in a year.

Kitchen Gnomes + Roommates

Tonight I found the coffee scoop that went missing from the kitchen weeks ago. I blamed the kitchen gnomes, but truthfully, I lost it down the sink and then forgot. As I fished it out triumphantly, Joel yelled from the couch, “I should keep a journal of all the ridiculous stuff that has happened since you’ve been living here!”(Really, Dad, he said “stuff”)

Joel and I are alike in a lot of ways. We’re both introverted and too intuitive; we like to watch documentaries, listen to public radio and leave dishes in the sink for days. But he is practical, precise and incredibly detail oriented. He just shakes his head when I use his “beer glasses meant for pouring Belgian beer” to drink almond milk, set off the fire alarm cooking at 10 pm, dry the laundry on high heat and (most grievously of all) load the dishwasher inefficiently. Still, he is still pretty patient as I’ve bleached his towels, dumped coffee beans into the couch cushions and nurtured an entire colony of fruit flies in the kitchen.

It is somewhat rare for two adult siblings to live together and a lot of people assume we’re a couple. Talk about awkward. Standard introduction: “Hi I’m Hannah, this is Joelheismybrother.” He says I kill his vibe with the ladies. I would like to point out that is a two-way street.  

It’s been really great having my brother as a roommate though. Not only is it nice to have a roommate after living alone for 6 months in DC (and one that shares my love of bacon and Star Trek!), but connecting with him as adults without the elements of parents, home or the other siblings has been good.
 

Joel moved out when I was 13 and has done dozens different things all over the country and the world in the last 10 years. He’s always been the trail-breaker in our family, encouraging the rest of us to break rules and question norms. The image of him as the sometimes-troublemaker-but-really-cool big brother lingered for years; conversely, I was the excruciatingly annoying pre-teen little sister. Joel never takes the easiest path and I always looked up to that.  True story: The essay prompt in one of my standardized tests in 9th grade was to write about a hero of mine—I wrote about Joel.

Now that we have both settled more into our identities, his personality challenges me to question why I think the way I do, believe what I do and act certain ways. It can frustrate me since I am still more of a black-and-white thinker and don’t like lingering dissonance in my thinking, but I value highly the challenges he presents. He has encouraged me to communicate more honestly, to value people where they are and look for the hope in every situation. These are all good things.

I am grateful to live in Oregon these months before Kenya, and connecting with Joel is definitely one of the reasons why.

I may never be able to park his truck straight and we'll always have to agree to disagree on the Bourne trilogy, but I’ll always have some invaluable memories with family.

Come on, people, we are *clearly* related!