Home sweet home

So I have made it back to the place that is becoming more and more like home to me for better or for worse. It was a little strange coming back, just one week after I returned from Latin America. It was such a strange feeling coming home on the plane, in fact I will post a bit of what I experienced and wrote about coming home:
My trip:
Coming home, I felt very very strange. I looked out the plane window and tried to soak in everything that I saw one last time. Why why why am I leaving I thought. I wished now that I hadn’t have changed my flight to two days early in order to avoid a two day bus ride back to Costa Rica. I think I was also trying to avoid some of the feelings I left behind in that country. Especially after having a completely different experience in Honduras. As we left tears began to form. I didn’t want to leave the people, the noisy streets, I didn’t want to leave lizzy behind to endure the forthcoming hardships. I did want to leave lizzy the most. I wanted to squeeze her in a hug and tell her how much I love her. Tell her over and over. But the plane did not halt, we zoomed off the runway and I strained my neck to catch the finale glimpse of Tegucigalpa, my finale glimpse of central America. Houses stacked on top of one another. Vibrant colors screaming to be heard amidst the crumbling crowded city. Goodbye to all the men crowded into trucks on the way to their jobs, goodbye to the children screaming and running throughout the streets, eager to talk and say hello. Goodbye to the shouts of Sarah! From Lizzy’s little town in Honduras. Goodbye to the little girls whom I quickly befriended in frequent and competitive pickup futbol matches. Goodbye the beautiful hospitality offered to me by so many people graciously allowing me into their home, or answering my stammered broken questions with a smile. I was leaving my memories behind now. All through the trip I didn’t really feel like I was leaving anything behind, I felt more like I was moving on to another grand adventure that would be equally as exciting and fulfilling. But now I knew that I would need to return home to my plethora of coffee shops all of which I am a regular, to write about my experiences instead of experiencing them. To write about the beautiful people I met instead of talking to the beautiful people I was constantly encountering. How was I to sum up two months of travels and memories, and people in brief conversations? It couldn’t be done, or I can not do it as eloquently and effectively as would give it justice. So I often find myself uncomfortable at the question, how was your trip? I can discuss parts of my trip at ease with my parents over coffee, sitting at dinner, a ride in the car because it is an ongoing novel. I do not need to sum up, but rather can elaborate each specific memory knowing that there is time and eager ears to hear more. I don’t even know where to begin writing at this moment. To pick one when there are so many to tell and to choose from is difficult. One story…or one thought one feeling one person. Well here I begin, maybe to only tell one, maybe to tell many. But just to write, Just to feel like all that I saw felt and experienced will not be forever lost behind the overpowering memories of café con leches, bad experiences with men and vague remembering of faces here and there. I want to do the people and countries I have encountered justice, at least in my mind.

So there it is and I am still in the process of writing down specific memories, that i hope I will continue through the craziness that is soon to come.
I will be updating more frequently and with shorter entries I promise!!! But it is soo good to be able to tap into every bodies life, I dont have to feel like we are a country away. I love you all so much and you are constantly in my thoughts and prayers.