How Places Change You

I’ve been thinking a lot about the way places change you. Every place has a rhythm. Every place has breath and movement. Places pull you and push you like waves in an ocean. An ocean wave can cradle and rock you, hold you while you float, ears underwater, eyes at the sky. Waves can whisk you up and roll you onto the sand. Waves can gently pull you out to sea. Perhaps you would fight hard against the waves in one direction or another. Perhaps you would take advantage of the rolling sea and stand up with your friends to…

clunky

I’m here with minutes before work starts thinking about diving into all the details that this Monday holds. Details. So many of them. And my mind does not often seem equipped. You know, it’s hard to move to a new state. Very hard. New banks, new license plates, new cell phone service, new apartment, no furniture, no friends, no clue… about anything. Where is the nearest gas station? Where do I go to find toilet paper? Where did I leave my brain? I had to get photos done for a new passport. The receptionist, right before she snapped the photo,…

moving = stress bomb

I can’t stop eating. This has happened before. Pre-Peace Corps I ate everything in site with, of course, the rational that I wasn’t going to get to eat my favorite foods for some years. I gained twenty pounds in two months. Before I left I didn’t have a pair of pants that fit, and for the entire plane ride to Armenia I had my pants unbuttoned. Now I’m moving across the country. Last night my mother made a pie consisting mostly of cream cheese and condensed milk, and while it is my favorite pie in the world, that is no…

globally loved

I’m back. After a week of tears and hugs and the kindest words said to me by the kindest friends, I have arrived in this tiny town in Texas. I took three flights, two with one of my fellow Peace Corps adventurers, and then a third alone. I followed that up with a missed connection which resulted in a very disappointed family and a slumber party for me in the Atlanta airport with very friendly strangers. I finally arrived two mornings ago to the hugs you see above (thanks for the pic, Mom!) and a bag of Shipley’s donut holes….