Home Again, Again.

When I first moved here, to this strange land, a place where I didn't know a single soul, I was justifiably nervous. Who would I meet?  How would I communicate?  What would I say?These thoughts raced through my mind and they still surface now and again.  It's a natural reaction moving from a place of security to a place unknown.  But recently, those worries and fears have started to fall away. Guatemala is changing...I just came back after leaving the country for a bit – what we call a visa run.  Arriving back in Momostenango, I said to myself “I'm home again.”  It feels familiar; the tienda that sells the best chips, the traffic cops, the obnoxious exhaust plumes from passing buses.  It's all...comforting, yet it's only half the story.  I know its been said time and again, but it really is the people that make it home, the people who make a place a place.  And pulling up along that dusty road, hugging again the people we live with, sharing our stories, the mundane goings on, well, all of this is my life now. All of it is somehow just like any other part of the world.  And so a certain weight has been lifted. Sure, I still don't have the answers to everything, but I have one crucial component to making this all work. I have a home with people I can call family. 


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