Home
Sometimes I feel like I can let myself forget I am in Africa. Obviously, the lack of water and power make it clear I am not in America, but aside from that…I feel comfortable here. Everyone and everything around me feels…right. The noise, the dust, the food, the people, the children, the roads, the work, the everything…I have abandoned that feeling of being a visitor in another person’s world, instead I have finally begun living in that world.
The other day, I came home after being out working/visiting all day…something in me clicked and I realized that I felt like I came home. The same feeling I get when I approach exit 252 towards Bellingham…the same feeling I get when I walk up the driveway of my parent’s house and my dog, Bear starts barking. Ahhh…I’m home.
Home is not a place, it’s a feeling.
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