Home

I am sitting in the warmest computer lab in the basement of the Angus L. MacDonald library on the St. Francis Xavier University campus. I'm trying to arrange my pictures that are saved on 2 memory cards, 2 flash drives, and a CD. It's a disorganized mess of memories and experiences that is taking a significant amount of time to sort through, both on the screen and in my head. The other students here are working quietly, their papers neatly arranged. A camera, cords and flash drives, CDs, an ipod, water and juice, an african print bag and 2 boxes of kleenex litter my part of the table, a testimony to how jumbled this transition seems to be, and how the Canadian cold has hit me full force.

The past few weeks have been full of countless stories, journeys and airplane rides. Despite moto-karma finally getting me I still made it to my farewell dinners, milestones that once seemed so distant. I felt appreciated and accepted, honored and humbled. The missing has alreday begun. The next day I got myself to Ethiopia, where I visited with a fellow intern and dear friend. We enjoyed a week of catching up, seeing the sites, and learning from eachothers' experiences. Ethiopia is a beautiful part of the world and I loved gaining a better understanding of the rich culture, pride and history I found there. I spent one final night in Kigali celebrating my birthday and saying goodbyes that were far from easy. My birthday had me in transit, hastened through scrabble games and bagels, friends and stories. The cold here is lessened by the warmth with which I've been recieved. It feels good to be back with people I love. It feels good to tell my stories over familiar coffees in familiar places. Antigonish doesn't change much.

I have, though. And the changes are more evident now that I'm back in Canada. I don't know how to cross the street in a place where people stop for you. I'm tempted to haggle with the taxi driver for a better price. The cost of beer blows me away and I'm confused by nickles and pennies. I want to kiss people on both cheeks when I see them and shake their hand when I leave. I sometimes feel like an awkward teenager, unsure and doubting. I go from loving to resenting very quickley - Shopper's Drug Mart is either a haven of fun things or an overwhelming shopping experience. I flip through the endless channels on TV in a trance. The choice, variety and selection excites me and upsets me all at once.

Life is easy here. Familiar. Smooth. Efficient. Yet I am faced with new challenges: the challenge of taking what I have learned or come to value and applying it to a new context in an appropriate manner. The challenge of recognizing that my reality is not everyone's reality. The challenge of navigating slushy winter streets. The challenge of organizing the mess of pictures in front of me, so many memories and stories that take more than a thousand words to describe. The challenge of defining home when my heart is in so many different places.