Don't Judge Me!

1.22.2009

Don't judge me, but, I cried my first tears in Senegal several nights ago. They were not tears of physical pain. They were not tears of cultural frustration. They were not tears of 'why can't you speak english!?' They were not tears of 'please don't make me eat rice and fish again'. They were tears of longing; Longing to be with those I love at home. Don't get me wrong, I love living here. But there are times when all I can do is think back to my family and friends in America. Sometimes it's even thoughts of food in America that get to me. 

Anyway, the other night I met my sister, Ashley, online to have a video chat. (Technology has definitely helped me with missing home. When you can see the person you are talking to live, it makes all the difference.) We were talking when she told me that she had just received an email from our sister Corey. I checked my email and had also received one. The email was an autobiographical narrative that she had to write for her english class. I opened the document and began reading aloud to Ashley via Skype. The story was about our last Christmas with all the family together. It told of a hilarious experience that had occurred late one night in the kitchen. As I read, I couldn't stop laughing out loud. The laughter eventually blurred my vision with tears and I had to stop reading. When I tried to start again, I realized that my tears of laughter had taken on a different form. I was crying because I missed my family. It was a startling realization because I was unaware of the transition between the two. Ashley was able to finish reading the story for me and we both talked about how much we missed home. Though the tears lasted for a short time, it was nice to have experienced them with Ashley rather than alone. 

Corey, thank you for sending me the story. It was beautifully written and I felt like I was re-living the hilarity. 

Random fact: As I sat writing this blog, three street kids sat on my floor looking at my magazines playing some sort of game they invented. They would throw a magazine in the air, catch it, and open to a random page. Then they would count how many people were in the photos on that page. The number of people quickly turned into how many times they were allowed to slap each others arms. Random. Funny.