It's Sinking In...

"I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong"
-Rascall Flatts

Being back home is harder than I though. Well... I guess that’s not quite true. It’s not necessarily harder so much as way more intense than I thought it would be. I’ll be doing the most ordinary things and it’s like a booming voice hits me like a sledge hammer: YOU ARE NOT IN AFRICA ANYMORE!

I’ve had so many moments where I’ve almost had to pinch myself to see if I’m really truly back home, living the same life as before. The most surreal moment happened last night at our “Intern/Traveler Reunion”. While 48 hours was a little too soon for a big reunion party, Hans was in Vancouver for just a few days, so we wanted to reunite while he could still join us. Shelby and I headed downtown to Joeys, an upscale restaurant where Amanda works. She was bartending, so we sat at the bar and had a drink waiting for everyone to show up. A little while later, we were joined by Hans, Corrine, Graham and his beautiful girlfriend Jenna, who we’d all heard SO much about!

It was sitting there with them that it finally hit me that I am really home. It wasn’t really a happy realization either, to be honest. There we were, in this totally trendy restaurant in the city, drinking fancy cocktails, dressed up for a night out, and it just didn’t feel right. The last time we were all together we were drinking dirt cheap Tuskers, our clothes covered in actual dirt, sitting around the living room in our suite, and we all seemed a lot happier. At least, I was a lot happier.

It’s only been three days at home now, and I miss Kenya so much it hurts. I keep thinking of all of my friends, who are literally on the other side of the globe, and wishing I could see and talk to them. I keep thinking about the kids at the orphanage and wondering how they are. I keep looking at my clock and trying to figure out what time it is there, to try and imagine what I’d be doing at this precise moment if I was still there. (For example, it’s now Sunday morning there, so I’d probably be walking to Yaya Center to have Java House breakfast and then hit up the Masaai Market).

Things here, as I had anticipated, are just the exact same. I’m disappointed to say that living back at home seems like it’s going to be quite a struggle. I find myself getting so frustrated over the simplest things. For instance, living with roommates is pretty awesome; everyone respects privacy and personal possessions, and gives you space when you need it. With family, there doesn’t seem to be any boundaries. Doors don’t get knocked on, unpleasant thoughts don’t seem to be held inside quietly. That’s unfortunately the bad side of a close family: sometimes you are so close that things like tact and privacy seem to go by the wayside.

Seeing friends and family has been a mostly positive experience though. It is so nice to get a genuine warm welcome home from people, but finding things to say seems a bit tricky sometimes. When people say “Tell me about Africa!!!”, it’s hard to know where to begin. It’s sometimes doesn’t even seem like it would be worth the effort. Even if I could pick a story that could entertain or amuse someone, could they ever really feel the story the way I wish they could? Most people probably couldn’t. I’m scared to open my heart and share personal things, lest the memories lose some of their sacredness. Maybe that’s silly, but it’s like at this point, the memories are what are keeping me going, and it’s almost like I want to keep them as safe and pristine and guarded as I can.

All of the things I was looking so forward to just haven’t met my expectations. I haven’t even been to Dairy Queen, which was one of the things I missed the most this summer. I had a piece of cheddar cheese yesterday for the first time, and it just wasn’t as spectacular as I was hoping. Clean tap water is nice, but I’m realizing that even having sufficient bottled water there was enough that I should have been thankful for it. (The one thing that I did exceed my expectations is Starbucks!! My Grande Caramel Cappuccinos are keeping me sane right now!!).

I guess I’m just trying to say that I miss Kenya. A lot. It’s hard being home. It’s hard not having Nat to talk to every waking second. It’s hard driving around by myself, without Elly in the other seat keeping me smiling and laughing. It’s hard getting up in the morning and not having a job to be excited about heading to. It’s hard to try and put words to what I’m feeling inside.

But most of all, it’s hard to have my body on one side of the planet, and my heart on another.

-Delaney xo