Home

I went back to village this weekend for the first time since I left. I was so excited for this trip and on Friday, I was bouncing up and down in my office in anticipation. That morning started off different from all the others. It was raining. Rainy season started weeks ago, but it has only rained in the middle of the night and not right when I've had to go to work. I used to love rainy season because it meant that I could hide out in my hut, read a book and enjoy a cup of tea or hot chocolate. I still love it, but when I have to navigate around mud pits, seasonal ponds, and seasonal rivers to get to work, it loses it's charm (I'm exaggerating, but it is difficult). Velingara is disgusting when it rains. It has gotten to the point where I rinse off my feet immediately on arriving home in order to avoiding getting creeping eruption (Google it). So, as I was lying in bed, not motivated to trek through the rain, I remembered that I hadn't packed for village yet (oh, procrastination). I packed, made breakfast and resolved myself to the fact that I had to make my way to work. As I get to a main street, a World Vision car stops and picks me up- Awesome!

That morning was filled with data entry from my project that measures malnutrition using brachial arm measurements. I left work a little early to buy gifts for my family and to get a car. Luckily for me, timing was on my side and my car filled and left within 15 minutes of my arrival at the garage. I get a call from my replacement telling me that the bridge into my village is gone, flooded. Just my luck. I arrive at my dad's boutique and I get a chorus of greetings and everyone tells me that I've been gone for so long. My brother meets me at the boutique and we begin the trek home. We get to the rice fields where the bridge is and it's a river (this time I'm not exaggerating). There is a current and although the deepest point is just above my knees, it's terrifying to cross. I cling onto my brother's arm, unsure if I'm about to step in a hole or about to mount an unseen slippery incline. I tell my brother that if I had known that it was in this condition, I wouldn't have come home. We make it safely across and I'm home.

I miss village so much. I love my job, but it's lonely here. I do revel in the quiet and the ability to do whatever I want and not have to report to anyone, but I miss the community and just hanging out with the family. Thanks to my great timing, I returned to village the weekend that Ramadan started. This being my third Ramadan, I didn't find it too difficult to fast for a few days. At the same time, I will be on a flight home to America in 5 days, avoiding the majority of Ramadan. When I arrived at the office this morning (after trekking in the rain), my coworkers and supervisor noted that I was happier. It's a mix of having spent a great weekend away in village and my upcoming journey.

America, see you in less than a week!

--Peace Out!