No place like home

I'm not good enough with words to express how wonderful it was being among family and friends for the holidays. But I hope you all know how much it meant to me. I felt like I was seeing the world with new eyes, and I had a new appreciation for everything. Culture shock? Maybe a little. I did have a few accidental outbursts in Bambara, and I can't work these new fandangled cell phones for the life of me. Running in spandex in 20 degree weather was weird for the first two minutes, but then it was old hat. And my gosh did I enjoy the food. But as for being depressed about materialism, I think I got that out of my system after our laundry bill in the hotel resort in Senegal. I was too overwhelmed with happiness- for three solid weeks. I've heard Peace Corps volunteers talk about the frustrations of going home. “People want to hear about Africa, but they really only want to listen to you for five minutes. Then they go on to talk about petty, insignificant things like they don't really care.” Not the case here. Everyone that I spent time with over break was so interested in what I had to say about Mali, and that was so encouraging. I know it's not just me doing my work out here, its the dozens and dozens of people who are invested in it. It's you guys who read these blogs, who donate to the projects, who pray or write or simple ask about what's going on out here. You care. And I always knew that, but this time I got to see its true prominence up close.

My family is just great. I'm so proud of my mother- she's getting in shape with kickboxing classes (and I'll attest: they are tough!) and getting very involved with a new church. My dad as well: he got promoted last year and is finding confidence to be the big boss in the Mental Health Department of Boces1. He may tell you otherwise, but I can tell his brains, experience, and determination is serving him stupendously. Ahh, parents. They've done so much for us. Especially the William and Gina brand. You'd think a kid with loving parents wouldn't leave them for two years to go to Africa. Unless those parents loved her so much that they would support her crazy dream.

And I don't think my sister knows how much I respect her. She is my best friend and I try to be like her everyday. I do. She's the most personable and positive person I know and we had a blast hanging out together. I don't know how, but she can still recite lines from our favorite childhood movies. She'll whip them out at the most opportune times and just send me rolling on the ground. I can't tell you how often I've wanted her by my side in Mali, to find and share humor in these little things that bind us together. She is completely in love with the kids in Dombila, and they day I left I caught her watching some videos of Pacho over and over. “I just need to see these kids again,” she said with a full heart. She's had a successful year with school and lacrosse and it kills me that I wasn't there for her during it all.

New Year's was especially great up and Anne and Marc's cottage. Some good cross country skiing with my dad and sister. (It's always worth it to feed off my father's fascination with the wilderness, and to see Katie wipe out :)) Ice skating under the stars and fireworks at midnight (ie 9:30) while drinking campaign on Lake Pleasant, New Hampshire... it was like a dream. Why did I ever leave this magical land of America? And all these impressive and loving people who I never get sick of spending time with- I have had such a charmed life. That's it- charmed.

I felt like I got to see so many people, and that even if I had momentarily lost touch, I still had close friends. A night with the HFL crew, a night with the Geneseo crew, and catching up with other people here and there. I even felt closer to some people than before- people like my neighbor Tania, superintendent Michele Kavanaugh, my cousin Tucker, my fellow Peace Corps people (Sally, Steve, and Ned) and the phys-ed teachers at HFL had all taken a particular interest in what I was doing here and talking to them was incredibly inspiring.

I also spent a day at the HFL manor school, thanking them for the fundraiser they did for our well projects. I went in to the gym amazed at the equipment and the respectful behavior of the children. Being there was touching, and I was so happy to answer the kids questions: Everything from “Do You Sleep on a Postropedic mattress?” To “Do giraffes come to your house? ” to some real interesting inquiries about the lives and hardships of the kids. They are kids just like you guys- they play and run around and laugh like you. They love soccer. And if there is no soccer ball to be found, they will roll up a bundle of trash and kick it around.

So I come from this land of a prosperity. But how much does that matter? It doesn't matter that we have a Nintendo Wii or this crazy high definition TV that feels like you're standing in the studio of “The Today Show.” It doesn't really matter that the kids at Manor School play with laser lights or I can spend my days watching ridiculous videos on YouTube. Who cares?

But there are things that do matter. I visited Coach Woods in the hospital as he was recovering from surgery. The equipment, just in his one single room, was more than we have for the whole commune of Dombila. At the push of a button he has a medical professional giving him individual service. There's the school I went to, and as I ran around campus looking at the athletic fields, visualizing the computer lab, the wood-shop, the science labs I thought, “Why me? Why did I get all this?” And then there's Molly, my 19-month old second cousin. This little girl is so healthy looking, and has all the toys and snacks and attention anyone can ever dream of. 19 months? This plump little girl? When I went to visit her, she had a fever. My cousin popped a digital thermometer in her mouth and gave her some Children's Motrin. Easy.

We're all lucky in some ways. No matter how small, we all have blessing in our lives. But as for me, my blessings are overflowing at the rim. Thank You.