I mean, if I wasn’t already over the whole “moving trauma”, I would be homesick anywhere, and all the time, not just after a week in Quito.
Right?
I stand totally corrected.
Yes, I still think about Ga, and Fl too, even though most of my time in the States was spent in the Georgia mountains.
But I mean where I belong.
And it’s scary, I know, I’m a little freaked out just thinking about it:
Misahualli is starting to be home for me.
‘Cause I was thinking about it, and I guess home is made up of familiar places, people, and culture… language is a big one that is kinda overlooked.
Don’t get me wrong, I have a long way to go until I am completely comfortable with the ways of Ecuador’s peoples, but I am much more at ease with the people in the jungle than the people in the USA.
Walking down the street and seeing your friends from school waving at you.
Going to the local store and being able to buy something while you talk to the owner’s daughter.
Having a ball kicked at your head because the kids in the street want you to join the soccer game.
Running through my yard/the jungle, and knowing which plants’ sharp thorns would rip my jeans in half.
So All May Know HIM,
Madeline Studebaker