Time Goes On Whether You Ask It To Or Not.

As I sit here alone in the living room of my rented house in Waverly I finally have an opportunity to just sit and think for awhile. It wasn't until yesterday that I realized that we are home.
Over the past few days, I have noticed that there is definitely a difference in me. I am not the exact same person I was when I left. I have grown and matured. At times I feel like I don't fit in here anymore. There are certainly people who understand the change in me and there are other people who either understand the change in me or turn a blind eye to it.
For several days I avoided unpacking and unloading the boxes I had packed my room into. It just didn't seem right to move back into a place where I knew things would be different and where I could risk falling back into old distractions. As I unpacked boxes and my luggage and, as my room started to look like it did before I left, I began to realize that I have really left Tanzania - I haven't just gone on a mini vacation or something like that. Then, to add insult to injury, the song 'Beautiful Disaster' by Jon Mclaughlin came on my computer. With lyrics like, "She hates the sound that goodbyes make" and "Caught in the in between, a beautiful disaster" it was a painful reminder that I have come back.
While I unpacked my clothes, I noticed that I have a bunch of clothing that I never wear. I was disappointed in myself and decided that while I unpacked clothes I would also sort out some that I can give away - there are other people who I am sure would enjoy them and wear them more than me.
Then, when I went to Target to pick up a few things, I was walking around the grocery section and was in complete shock. After three months of shopping at Pira's Cash and Carry, a grocery store about the size of my living room and kitchen at home, I had gotten used to stores that only have the items that are needed. As I walked around Target's grocery section I kept seeing so much excess (even in food choices) - there were several dozen different pastas and pasta sauces, and that was only one section of the store! I was in such shock.
As much as I like being able to understand everything that people around me are saying, it is weird and sad to not hear Swahili all the time. I miss hearing it and speaking it.
And I miss seeing the Masai walking around town in their traditional dress.
I miss our several hour church services with people who are genuinely interested in communing with God and with their neighbors.
I miss the warmth of Tanzania - both literal and figurative.
I am already sick... I woke up this morning with a head cold already. My throat is raw and my sinuses are going crazy in this weather.
I have already heard from Bariki since I've been back, which made me smile - it is nice to think that I will be able to keep in touch with people.
I will be interested to see what the coming days and weeks will bring. Stay tuned for the rest of my journey back into American culture.
Peace.