Life after a year abroad is kind of different. I mean in a lot of ways it is the same I go to the same places, eat the same things, shop at the same stores more or less. They tell you to take time off, go see the world, get perspective on life. So that is what I set out to do. I decided to spend a year teaching, 3rd grade, sounded fun, new and exciting. I went to a place far away where I didn't really know anyone in search of figuring out life and finding myself.
I had a great experience. I sang, prayed, laughed, cried, experienced amazing sunsets and sunrises, trials and tribulation. I failed and overcame. All while falling in love with 32 beautiful children. I grew to love the community and culture. They embraced me and laughed while I tried to learn their language, all too unsuccessfully. They joined me while I experienced their cultural celebrations and learned to love their food.
Go experience the world they said. So I did. I went and dove headfirst in an amazing culture on the other side of the world. I learned about family, friendship, love, faith, God, patience, and forgiveness. I learned about the power of prayer. I experienced, and I learned all while figuring out and learning more and more about myself. You set out in a new place to figure out how to survive and in the process you end up stumbling upon yourself. You figure out who you are in a new place, you gather new ideas, new perspectives, and experiences.
I was heartbroken to leave this place. This place where I had discovered so much on a piece of land amongst the sea. This magical heavenly place. My heart fell into 32 pieces, the 32 pieces that had hugged me, starred up at me in amazement, the 32 pieces that had fought me, cried in my arms, and loved me so unconditionally. My 32 amazing children that had touched my heart so deeply. I left those 32 pieces on that island amongst the sea.
I was excited to take my new ideas, perspectives, and experiences home to share with those I loved. But to my amazement they were not as welcomed as I had hoped. Sure they were excited to see me but the hype fizzled out real fast and I was soon given a box. I was told to keep my ideas, perspectives, and experiences to myself. I was told to stay in the box, "you are home now,""'you're not on an island anymore". I was left in a box, frustrated on how to fit in it. Everyone around me left frustrated and confused, unsure of what to do, unsure of who I was.
Alas, I am left to figure out who I am all over again inside this box, this box I don't fit in, this box that has all the experiences, and ideas that I have grown to cherish but are not so appreciated by others. I have to figure out who I am in the place I grew up with the new things I have brought home with me. I know who I am on the island but who am I at home?
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