Towards the end of my freshman year in high school, my dad sat my sisters and me down in our living room in Big Spring, Texas, and began to lay out what the next two years would potentially look like for us.
I knew this set up all to well, as we had had these,”family meetings,” many times in my life. I knew the exact words that were fixing to spill out of my dad’s mouth, “We are moving.”
See, I am a preacher’s kid. My dad has been a church of Christ preacher for over 35 years. Moving was not a foreign concept to my family, though it was never an easy thing to do. Before I was 14, I had lived in 5 different places, mostly in Texas, although we had a brief stay in Colorado. I always adjusted, I think pretty well, and was happy wherever we ended up.
So, as we sat, anxiously awaiting why we had been called together, my dad proceeded to let us know that we were moving. Out of all the times that we had had this discussion, this is the only one that I remember so vividly in my mind. I don’t know if it was because I was older and was the happiest in our current location or if it was because of what came out of his mouth next. See, this time we weren’t just moving to another part of Texas. This time my dad hadn’t accepted another preaching job. This time was different.
My dad had accepted a teaching job, at a preaching school, in another country, a third world country. Now, to give my dad some credit, he did make it sound kind of cool and like this huge adventure that we were fixing to embark on. I mean, we were fixing to move to the Caribbean, Trinidad to be exact, for at least the next two years. Who wouldn’t want to live in the Caribbean, right? Well, at this time in my life, THIS GIRL!
Through my sobbing, however, my dad layed out our future for the next two years. In my previous post, Why We Chose to Homeschool, I explained how I had wanted to be homeschooled most of my life. My wish was coming true. Being that it was going to be such a drastic change in our surroundings and lifestyle, my parents knew that homeschooling my younger sister and me would be the best for us. I was extremely grateful for this decision on my parents part, because I sure didn’t want to go to school there. So, one point for my parents on making this a little easier. Also, we would only be there throughout the school year and would be back in the states for the summer, visiting our supporting congregations and family. Two points. I was also still able to go to the Bible camp I had attended each summer for 4 years. Three points. This was starting to sound okay, I guess. I mean, I might as well embrace it, because it was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not.
So a couple of weeks before the school year started for the Trinidad School of Preaching and Teaching, we headed over the ocean on a 9 hour flight, which by the way, was the first time I had ever flown on a plane, way to dive in head first. I think I cried for those entire nine hours. We arrived in Port of Spain, Trinidad, after dark, probably around midnight, I can’t remember, I just know it was late. We made it to customs, and our passports were all stamped, and Dad’s two year work visa checked out. We were officially cleared to begin this new and exciting adventure in our lives (although, at that time I didn’t think it was exciting, more like terrifying).
To continue on click here, Living in a Third World Country (Part 2: Getting Settled)