Well, I suppose I
should start out by telling the story of how I got home. The last you heard,
the three of us girls were flying on a delayed flight to Paris, 24 hours later
than the original, at 1am. Well, no. After an entire day of being incredibly
sick with my annual cold, carrying around a roll of toilet paper and stuffing
snotty balls into my sweatshirt pocket, sitting like a hobo in the lobby of the
Raphia Hotel, and trying to change my homecoming plans with people back home…
we arrive at the airport late at night. Allie gets her boarding pass and says “see
you on the other side of security!” and that is the last time I saw her. To
make a long story short the night ended up consisting of Maddie and I crying
and shouting in several different languages, many panicked international phone
calls on a stranger’s phone, only to be found sitting on the floor of an empty
airport lobby as the lights shut off listening to the sound of our plane taking
off outside. Delta had apparently not notified Air France that they had changed
our tickets. Therefore, there was no record of Maddie or myself to be on that
flight. So… we went back to good old Raphia at approximately 3:30am looking
incredibly defeated and they happily took us in another night for about $6 USD.
The next morning I
felt worse than ever with my head cold but the sun was shining and it was a new
day. I knew that my mother had made some calls and gotten me on SOME flight
home, but I was completely willing to take my time finding out when that was
since I was dead sick running on 4 hours of sleep. So I start out by dragging
my feet down to the lobby restaurant, order a tea, turn on my computer…. And my
flight is in 4 hours!! Did I mention that it’s about an hour drive to the
airport? …and that international flights are usually pretty booked so there is
a long wait in line… Basically, I had to be packed up in a taxi at that second
and I was still in my pajamas sitting in a restaurant. All I remember is running upstairs and
rambling to Maddie as I shove my things in my suitcase, throwing some ariary at
the man in the little convenience store for some yogurt, cookies, and a couple
oranges, and diving into the taxi Maddie so kindly hailed down for me. Then I luckily was able to fly from Tana to
South Africa to Atlanta to HOME, with no more than an hour at each transfer. It was the most surreal experience of my life.
But the point is I am
home now. I have been home for several months, enjoying the summer in Rhode
Island and school is about to start. I was really surprised at how quickly I
was able to jump back into life in the US. My dad even had me drive my own jeep
home from the airport when I hadn’t been behind the wheel in four months. I did
notice that I found large corporate stores like Walmart or the grocery store to
be huge, bright, and freezing. I also found myself getting easily annoyed at my
friends’ petty complaints and arguments. My parents were laughing at me the
whole first day home at my enthusiasm about tissue boxes and the fact that I
actually drank water from the kitchen sink. But I have to say that after only a
week or so I was back to my old self. Wearing make-up regularly and purchasing
an iPhone for myself.
I would not say this
experience didn’t change me, though. It certainly did. Not only do I know a lot
more about camping, how a Non-governmental Organization works, what the main
environmental concerns in a poor country are, and how to say many things in a
brand new language that no one else knows… but I am more appreciative of
everything, I have a much greater passion for a career in economic development
and environmental management, and I feel like I am even more tolerant of things
I used to be very picky about. Overall I am glad I had this experience. But if
you asked me to do it again, I would probably change a few things. I have had
this recurring dream that I end up back there, with or without people I know,
and trying to find a way home because I just cannot deal with spending another
four months there right now! This probably stems from the fact that it was such
an ordeal for me to actually come home, and not the fact that I had a hard time
there. But still… not for a while, please.
Also, I miss my SIT
friends so much. It’s strange that you can be closer to someone in a country
halfway across the world than you are in the same country in which you both
live. I hate that I never know when I will get to see Allie in Texas, or Anne
in North Carolina, or even all my friends that live in Massachusetts or Connecticut!
But we will hopefully reunite one day.
At least we are lucky enough to have social networking technology! I hope they
are all just as excited about starting regular school again! Classes are indoors
and not on a matt in the grass. When a class starts at 9:00, that means it
actually starts at 9:00 and not just when we all happen to arrive… and there
will be no women making us huge vats of delicious food to fight over and have
three heaping plates full at lunch time. But I think we will survive.
Veloma, Madagasikara! Je vous manqué… un peu.
