It’s an interesting feeling being on three different continents in two weeks. Besides the unbelievable amount of daily exhaustion that arises with me every morning and lays me to rest each night, it’s been an amazing (although I might chose a different word) that I would describe these past couple weeks. I left my home, went back home and am hours away from flying to my new home.
It all feels a bit surreal for a lack of a better word. I feel like I should be flying back to Namposella, seeing my friends and family I have there and continuing this journey in West Africa. The fact that I have packed four bathing suits should be a clear sign I am definitely not going back to landlocked Mali, but still, my brain has not caught up to the motions of my arms packing my bags for a completely new place.
I truly can’t believe I am doing this again. I think I secretly thought when I was on the plane home from Africa that the next flight out wouldn’t be for a while. Yet here I am, checking in for my flight, trying to get a hold of the last of the friends and family, preparing to jump on another across the Earth flight.
I think what I find most difficult about this entire do-over is that in Mali I already felt overwhelmed with how many people back home I missed. It wasn’t just a couple people, but it was amazing to me just how many people I stayed in touch with and thought about on a regular basis. Now, I leave to go to Vanuatu with an entire new family of Peace Corps Mali that I add to my list of people to think about. Who originally were the ones that coaxed me through my homesickness are now a part of the people that I will now miss.
I’m off to pack the last of my bag—nothing like packing for 2 years in 2 hours.
It all feels a bit surreal for a lack of a better word. I feel like I should be flying back to Namposella, seeing my friends and family I have there and continuing this journey in West Africa. The fact that I have packed four bathing suits should be a clear sign I am definitely not going back to landlocked Mali, but still, my brain has not caught up to the motions of my arms packing my bags for a completely new place.
I truly can’t believe I am doing this again. I think I secretly thought when I was on the plane home from Africa that the next flight out wouldn’t be for a while. Yet here I am, checking in for my flight, trying to get a hold of the last of the friends and family, preparing to jump on another across the Earth flight.
I think what I find most difficult about this entire do-over is that in Mali I already felt overwhelmed with how many people back home I missed. It wasn’t just a couple people, but it was amazing to me just how many people I stayed in touch with and thought about on a regular basis. Now, I leave to go to Vanuatu with an entire new family of Peace Corps Mali that I add to my list of people to think about. Who originally were the ones that coaxed me through my homesickness are now a part of the people that I will now miss.
I’m off to pack the last of my bag—nothing like packing for 2 years in 2 hours.
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