El reencuentro

.... [speechlessness]....

I don't know where to start, what to say, how I feel... I'm back in the States; back in my So. Ill. home; very very far away (on many levels) from Buenos Aires and life/home there. So strange... Here are a few thoughts/moments of the past two days:

When I ordered water I didn't have to specify "tap water" AND it came with ice. Milanesas and empanadas weren't on the menu. When I heard KT Tunstall on the radio, I imagined Argentine friends singing it and I had a really confused moment. The night air is rich with the scent of summer: it reminds me of moon chases, ice cream outside, late night walks, fireflies, and capture the flag games. My 14-yr. brother told me he had his life figured out: he's going to win the lottery at age 19 and build a monument of himself. When I have sad moments, I only want hugs from BsAs people, and that's quite impossible. I have laughed non-stop with my siblings. People drink HUGE coffees here -- way over caffeinated. Americans have so much STUFF (me included) -- before I lose this simple-living mindset, I'm cleaning out my room! Extrano castellano tanto... Capitalism is out of control here; I miss fruterias and little neighborhood stores. I refuse to think ahead -- but being present is no good either -- and I can't go back... I'm quite stuck. And this too shall pass...

Beautiful things: It's wonderful to be around a language that knows me so intimately. I had forgotten how verbally affirming and encouraging my friends and family are... I have missed their words so much and it has been like a soul massage to receive them once again; I forgot how much words impact me -- someone can say, "Megan, I think you are great," and it's the best part of my week (haha). With my family, it's like I left yesterday. We went out to lunch when I got off the plane, and at the end of the prayer before the meal, my siblings, exasperated, exclaimed, "It's about time you got home. We can stop praying for you! We've prayed for you at EVERY meal." (Way to be cheerful pray-ers, guys. haha.)

To end: Mom has this quote on our refridge: "courage does not always roar. sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "i will try again tomorrow." I think that courage got me through the past six months, and the same will get me through the transition back into life here...

**soundtrack of entry -- denison witmer**