A Final Salute to the Colonel

My grandfather, Colonel Lonnie Raymond Spivey, lived one hell of a journey. 

Leave it to a damn movie trailer to bring me to the edge of tears. I just watched the new one for the upcoming Marvel flick "Endgame," and a specific line really got to me. As one of the main characters is recording his supposed farewell, he says to his loved ones, "Don't feel bad about this. Part of the journey is the end."

The message I'd been dreading yet hoping for finally arrived

I agree with Mr. Tony Stark. Part of the journey is undoubtedly the end. Although it is surely a great sadness to know that my grandpa is gone, I also find solace in knowing that his pain and suffering here on Earth are finally over, once and for all. There is joy in knowing that he is, at last, free of that burden. 

Our final photo together, from back in July as I visited
with Papa and Gram one last time before returning to CR

As one does, I begin to think about Papa. If there is one thing that will always plaster a smile on my face, it is the way Papa greeted everyone. He was always just so happy to see you - whoever you are. He was always so glad to have people in his home. One of the best storytellers I have ever had the joy of listening to, I like to think I got a little bit of that in my genes. Hearing Papa recount stories of his youth, as he and Gram traveled across the world, I was speechless at the mammoth tales that he'd share with us as kids.

Papa was always willing to listen to anything you had to share

Another fantastic attribute that will resonate with me is his extraordinarily sage wisdom. It never failed - Relationship trouble? Talk to Papa. Big financial decision looming? Talk to Papa. Questioning your life trajectory? Talk to Papa. Doubting yourself and need some uplifting words? ABSOLUTELY talk to Papa. He was such a great listener and always to patient and understanding. I can recall so many times when I came to him with the latest mess I'd made in my own life, and he would sit with me, listen, and then offer the most delicately detailed and perfectly planned out explanation of not only where I may have gone wrong, but also what I could do to get back on track.

Papa sure did love his family, and we love him still

As I think about who my grandfather was and what kind of legacy he leaves, it starts and ends with family. He meant and still means everything to our family. He is truly one of those people who stands as a pillar, holding up the rest of us, often in faithful silence. Papa was never a flashy individual. He never sought the limelight. His pleasure was found in the company that surrounded him. He genuinely loved being among his family and friends.

Colonel Lonnie R Spivey

Over Papa's shoulder is a very special photo of him and
my grandmother welcoming President Ronald Reagan
to an Air Force base during his service in Germany

As much as Papa loved his family, he also loved his country, having served for decades in the United States Air Force, eventually arriving at the rank of Colonel. During his decorated career, he hosted presidents, facilitated some of the greatest operations of his time, and always conducted himself with a warm yet rigid professionalism that exuded confidence in himself and his countrymen as well as the faith to keep fighting in support of his values. He was an exemplary individual.

Simply the kindest man I have ever known

I remember being asked in the interview for Peace Corps, "What is the one thing that would hold you back from going and serving with the Peace Corps?" My answer was always the same thing - that I would miss spending time with my grandpa. In the months leading up to my departure, I remember when I first had a chance to speak with Papa about the notion of moving to CR and serving with the Peace Corps. Despite his broken speech and surely weary soul, he looked me right in the eyes and in one of the most vivid moments I carry with me in my memories, he said to me, "Go help them."

Rest in peace, Colonel. You will be missed. 

Being far from my family at such a tough time is difficult, and I've already shed my fair share of tears alone here in my apartment as I type out this tribute to my larger-than-life grandpa. I find myself inundated with a deluge of memories as I think back on all the moments, events, and reminders of what made my grandpa who he was and is to all of us. I ponder the example he leaves behind, the legacy that begs us to love one another no matter what. I cling to those three words that he so softly whispered to me, and I smile as I consider that the Colonel is up there, somewhere, looking down on us with his own big smile.

I love you, Papa.  I hope to see you again one day.

Un Año, Pero Lleno

Even the locally-grown, gourmet coffee I purchased
the day before was stolen that night, so you know
I'm not joking when I tell you it was rough. 

One year ago tonight, things changed quite a bit for me in my journey in Costa Rica with the Peace Corps. 
Waking up to an empty apartment and the sobering discovery that virtually all of my personal possessions had been stolen while I slept in my bed will always be one of my most difficult memories. The flood of emotions that swept through me - fear for my personal security, despair for the loss of material items, anger toward the guilty person(s), and failure in my role as a volunteer in my community - tossed and turned inside me for what seemed like an eternity. 
In the hours and days that followed, however, I began to realize the stellar quality of the people I had around me. My neighboring volunteers, numerous office staff members, and a few wonderful host country nationals rallied around me and offered some pretty outstanding support in my process of starting over. 
It would be a sisyphean task to try and depict the twists and turns of the following twelve months. So many changes unfolded as I worked to reset my trajectory: A new site, a new community, a new region, a new host family, a new local development association, new documentation, and many other intricate adjustments were required in the new undertaking. It would be some time before I felt even a shred of what we call normalcy.

My site change landed me
back in San José's backyard

Despite all the tumult of those days, I still say - with no hesitation whatsoever - that I look back on the overall outcome with a broad smile across my face. One of those ear-to-ear jobs. I landed in a very special place in El Llano, working with motivated individuals and groups, living with a tender and caring host family, and I ended my two years of service on what I think was the highest note possible. 

Sonia Mora Bermudez, my host mom in my
second site. She's one of the best people I've met. 

The experience absolutely led me to consider extending my time here in Costa Rica with the Peace Corps, and it surely influenced my decision to apply for the Regional Leader position - a role I'm very much so enjoying these days. 

My newest family: PCCR's Regional Leaders along
with our wonderful coordinator, Mónica Salas

Bottom line: I'm not here to deny that life comes with enormous challenges; no one could ever claim such nonsense. Life is hard, and then you become an adult. Rather, I'd simply like to reach into my own tattered bag of life experience and pull out a glimmer of hope for you. If you find yourself in the midst of some considerably trying times, press forward. Press forward with as much positivity as you and your support network can muster, and I promise you it will end up for the better. 
Learn from everything, and you'll always come out on top. 

Love y'all.

La Luna

Tonight I had the joy of playing a little fútbol in the yard with my new host family. At one point, I turned to reach the ball behind me and noticed my shadow on the grass. Mind you, it was well past sunset and we were in the yard between two houses. I was caught off guard until I looked around and up at the night sky. There, in all its beauty, hung the moon. Not just any moon, mind you; no, tonight we were treated to a full moon - "La Luna Llena," as they say here. I was awestruck by the light from the moon, and then I was caught up in the notion that, in fact, there was no light from the moon. It's very simply just a reflection.

The sun, sitting some 93 million miles from the surface of the moon, somehow illuminates one entire half of the moon, causing it to, in turn, brighten the night for us here on Earth. This phenomenon blows my mind every single time I ponder it, and tonight was no exception. I also considered how this applies to my own life.

I'm here in San Isidro de Aguas Claras to (hopefully) do great things, and I fully intend on dedicating my next two years to this endeavor; however, I am just one person. What I see unfolding in and around me is far less my own efforts and abilities, but rather the reflection of all the incredible people I've been blessed to meet and know in my lifetime. This post is, very simply put, meant to celebrate those people, and it's been a long time coming.

It starts, as always, with my family.

My mom, Diana, is just wonderful. Despite countless bouts with my stubborn, hard-headed manner, she and I are still as close as ever. She's been with me through virtually every difficult time in my life, and she's always been my biggest fan. I would not be the man I am today without her love, patience, and example. I miss her like crazy!

Momma!

My dad, Harry, is my guru, my go-to, and my sage. He's always got an answer for whatever issue with which I find myself wrestling. Ever since I was a kid, his nickname for me has been "Bud," and I've only recently come to realize that he is, in fact, one of my best friends. The amount of wisdom and guidance he's unconditionally offered me in my life is immeasurable. Without his help, I know in my heart I would not be here serving with the Peace Corps in Costa Rica.

Pops! (War Damn Eagle)

My big sister, Bree, is easily one of my favorite people to have ever existed. There's no way to fully describe the ridiculous nature of our brother-sister-ness; just trust me when I tell you it's a lot of fun being her little bro. She's been through a slough of junk in her lifetime, but you'd never know it to look at her. She's got a smile that would melt the coldest heart. The way she loves her son - my nephew, Aidan - gives me hope to know and understand how to be a parent if one day I'm blessed with children of my own.

Bwinney!

Then you've got all the people who've been crazy enough to call me their friend for a long, long time.

My oldest friend, Mr. Christopher Terrell, is as good as they come. When I was born into this world without a brother, I was offered a wonderful alternative in this guy. From the olden days of solving detective mysteries in the neighborhoods to more recent adventures such as our 3AM bonfire discussions of women, faith, and everything in between, my life wouldn't be complete without the brotherhood I've shared with this guy. His kindness and adoration for his fellow human being lead me to believe his influence on me will only serve to greatly improve my own experience here. That said, I can't wait to see him again, whenever that may be.

Hermanos siempre.

My boo, TC Bodiford. This freaking guy. Who knew when I met him at a recruiting event at my old college we'd be the pair of foolish buddies we are today? The list of inside jokes would stretch from Tijuana to Boston and back again a thousand times over. Recently wedded to his beautiful bride, he seems to be settling into life, but I'll never forget the days of yore when we traveled around the world and all the hilarious and heartfelt moments we shared therein. Truly, TC has left his unique mark on my life, and I'm grateful for his heart and his spirit.

Chowin' hard with my boo in Uganda

My bro from the younger days, Ryan DeLaune, has seen it all with me. From fishing illegally at Scenic Hills Golf Course to discovering the hard way what a tonsil is, we laughed and cried our way through adolescence together, and I'm thankful for the example he set and still sets for me. He's neck-deep in ministry alongside his wife Rachel, and they're blessed with a beautiful daughter, Emmaline. At times I can hear Ryan's fun-filled spirit echoing through my own laughter, and I think on what his own life has meant to mine.

Sipsey 2006 with Ryan!

My northern br'h, PJ Tiemeyer, the king of Extroversion. If you ever wanna see something funny, throw the two of us in a car and send us on a country-wide, week-long road trip. I have no idea how to even approach an accurate description of our friendship; all I know is that PJ often times represents everything I'm not, and I actually really dig that. We balance each other out. I'm single and living in a foreign country, while PJ is married with three kids and lives and works in the same city in which he was born. There are so many good things about both of our lives, and it's pure fun to heed the differences that exist between us. I feel like we both take a measure of joy from the contrary nature of each other's lives.

PJ and family, from my last visit up to Michigan!

My main squeeze, Saro Azizian, who really does kind of seem like me in an Armenian body. I do wish I could grow a beard like he can, though. Saro and I have been friends since around 2000, maybe a little longer, but what's important is his big-brother influence on my life. Countless times I've vented to him about some pithy issue I'm struggling with, and he always seems to start out with the same phrase: "Well, I'm not gonna tell you how to live your life, but..." and then comes the wise way in which I should live my life. During the days leading up to my departure for service, Saro carved out some time and made a special trip to visit me down in Pensacola, and he helped - perhaps more than he realize(d) - to set my heart at ease in the face of a two-year commitment to serve with the Peace Corps. I'm so happy to have him in my life.

Me, PJ, Saro the Dude, and Chris
enjoying some good ol' Krispy Kreme donuts

Then there are all of the people who I've met since this Peace Corps journey started. First there's Mr. Edwin Lugo, or Mr. Ed for short. If you'd asked me back in April of last year what kind of Spanish practice I would have before coming to Costa Rica, I would have probably told you I'll read a textbook or fiddle about with Duolingo or some other app a few times a week, at best. All that changed back in May of last year when I walked into Ed's office. I was only looking for some help with my current insurance policy. Little did I know I was about to meet one of the biggest sources of encouragement prior to my departure. It started innocently enough: after wrapping up my quick review of my policy, Ed cordially asked if there was anything else he could do to help me. Having detected his Latino accent (as if it was that hard to hear... Haha), I took a second or two to ponder what I wanted to say next. I sheepishly asked if he'd ever possibly consider helping me sharpen my Spanish skills. To my great surprise, he agreed, and we started meeting that same week. Every, single week we met after that, from May to the following February, with Ed faithfully showing up every time to sit with me an hour or two at a time and patiently suffer through my gringo misunderstanding of his native tongue. He was and is so much more than a Spanish tutor; he has become my friend. I know in the deepest part of my heart that his willingness to dedicate a huge part of his time to helping me has and will continue to permeate throughout this community. If you're reading this, Ed, thank you. You're incredible.

Stately, as always.

My Language/Culture Facilitators, don Armando and Elena, have most definitely played a massive role in my integration process into this beautiful country. Despite my introversion and shyness, they both succeeded, in their own ways, in pulling me out of my comfort zone with patience and understanding. They made Spanish make sense, and through my experience with my training community host family and what's transpired so far here in Aguas Claras, I can see how much of an influence they've both had on my language abilities. I'm super thankful for their efforts, de fijo.

Host sister and mom w/Armando!

Spanish class w/our teacher, Elena!

Speaking of my training community host family, I learned so much about Tico culture from Doña Elsa, her daughter/my host sister Melissa, and the rest of their wonderful family (Marvin, Raquel, Elena, Josue, Hansel, and Robert... whew.). Although I only got to spend three months with them, the impact they had on my life is and always will be a part of who I am. It blows my mind to consider how much change occurred in my heart and my mind over those twelve weeks in that house. We laughed, we cried, we danced, and we shared our lives with one another. I will visit them, and I will visit them often. They were and will forever be my first Tico family.

My training community host mom, Doña Elsa!

Then there's my CED program team, don Luis, Vinyela, and Evelyn. These guys. Oh man, where do I even start? From Vinyela's hilarious teaching antics to don Luis' vibrant morning greetings, these folks made our Tech classes a blast. I learned so much from them, not just about how CED works within the confines of Peace Corps, but also how it interlaces with life here in Costa Rica. Day in and day out, this team was vigilant in teaching our group the best known practices to not only work with the community but to become part of it, and I've already seen a lot of the lessons they shared with us play out into my new life here in Aguas Claras.

Shenanigans, I tell you.

Of course I'd be remiss if I didn't mention my own Peace Corps group, Tico 31. This group of complete strangers in February has rapidly become my family. From late night dance parties and frolicking on the beach in Manuel Antonio to sweating my soul away in Puerto Jiménez with my Tech-week buddies, the twelve weeks of training would have been nothing without this special crew. It's an absolute honor to be a part of this group, and, as I took part in the swearing-in ceremony on Wednesday, I was so proud of what we represent. As we parted ways the next day, I took account of all the incredible relationships I've been blessed to cultivate with so many from this group, and, while it's bittersweet to say goodbye, I know that we're all going on to so many great things. I can't wait to hear how everything unfolds for each of us.

Tico 31 CED!

There will undoubtedly be more people to add to this list as time marches on, but for now, these folks are the ones to whom I'd like to give thanks. Without your love, patience, guidance, wisdom, and joy, I would be lost in this place; however, because each of you has shared a little bit of yourself with me, I promise I'm going to try and reflect it in this community over these next two years.

Here's to shining bright.