Today, leaving feels like this: I cannot actually believe that this afternoon is my official house despedida.
Every time a group of volunteers leaves, the NPH house throws them an official despedida -- an official going-away ceremony -- that every single person from the house attends up in the comedor. Today is mine.
It's our official despedida. We will get official seats of honor on benches in the middle of the crowd. The house will present us with an official going-away gift. The kids will perform official going-away dances for us. It is, officially, the last event we attend as NPH Guatemala volunteers. People start leaving tomorrow morning, and then the leaving is really made official.
Leaving feels weird, because you never actually think the day of your own despedida is, in fact, going to arrive.
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