I’m still in Rwanda, it’s been a sticky past couple of weeks with tears, laughter and sheer, bitter frustration. If I didn’t know it isn’t so I would have guessed I’m losing my mind, but I think it is just the fact that I have never quite landed the last five months that is finally getting to me. It is okay, but happy it’ll be more mellow the coming five months.
Even when traveling, I have routines. I insist on bringing and making my own coffee every morning. I take upon knitting projects and knit my way there, wherever that is. My fondness for familiarity both helps and hurts when there are so many unfamiliar things filling my life these days. The joy of reading news, blogs and twitter is more satisfying than when at home, the pain of knowing who and what you love is far away hurts. Can’t believe these words are leaving my fingertips, but I even miss Vancouver. I miss my stoop, my neighbors, my colleagues and my set-in-stone routines. But for now, it’s East Africa for a little longer, going to Nakumatt to find my bliss in a bag of Hario wine gum, like I always do.
