Marching On

It’s Martyr’s Day today, a national holiday. In other words, SCHOOL HOLIDAY!!!! I love my students, but I had come to the point where I needed a small break from school, and it came! So now I am sitting in my room, listening to some Rachmaninov piano concertos on my computer, and taking some deep breaths. 

It’s March 3. As I sit here, I can’t comprehend that it’s March already. Six months of my time here are already gone. It just seems so weird. I have only three months left here in this country with these people that I have come to love dearly.

I can’t even tell you how often my thoughts have drifted to going home and seeing my friends and family at home again; or wishing that I wouldn’t be paranoid about snakes, even though I’ve not seen any dangerous ones as of yet; or thinking about how nice it will be not to have to take anti-malarial medicine anymore (but really, it’s the simplest thing in the world and not a bother at all). But as I think about how soon those thoughts and hopes will become reality, I’m not completely excited. I like it here. Yes, I am dying to and excited to see my family and friends - I miss them dearly - but at the same time, I don’t want this adventure to end. I don’t want to leave my students to whomever comes after me. I don’t want to leave my elephant, zebra, and giraffe friends. I don’t want to leave my land of palm trees and other tropical-ness. I don’t merely like it here - I love it. And part of me doesn’t want to leave. Yet part of me wants to hug and laugh and talk with those I love at home. 

March. It’s like music to my ears, but I can’t decide if it’s the beautiful, harmonious kind, or the out-of-tune, hair-curling kind. Or maybe it’s a bit of both. Three months left; it scares me. But time keeps marching on.