In a lot of ways, it was easy (maybe too easy) to fall back into normalcy. Katie, Leeah, Celeste, and I "lived" together again. The kids, though maybe taller, looked the same. The campus looked the same. The chicken buses were the same. Lord knows the tiny town outside NPH Guatemala was exactly the same. Oftentimes, we caught ourselves feeling like we'd never even left.
Did those nine months in Louisville even exist? Were they real?
But then other times, the difference was all too real. Oh wait, that second house down the hill isn't mine anymore. I don't live there. I don't live here. I don't have a phone, and I'm having trouble functioning. I'm blanking out on the name of that restaurant I use to love. Oh my God, I'm blanking out on the name of so-and-so's brother. What is his name?
I'm not a volunteer anymore. I'm a visitor. A visitor.
I don't want to make it sound like the week was a depressing one. It wasn't. It was laughing and Zumba-ing and getting sunburned and playing soccer (well, I don't exactly play soccer, but I watch) and remembering how ridiculous these kids are, hah.
But it was weird. It's just a strange sensation to feel so comfortable in a place and with its people, yet all the while know that it's not really "yours." At least, it's not yours the way it used to be yours.
That being said, Guatemala's trip made me even more excited for Honduras. Guatemala isn't exactly "mine" anymore, but Honduras is about to be. And if there's a chance I could feel for Honduras what I felt for Guatemala, well, then this girl should definitely be excited. :)
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