Day 242.

Today, I...

saw that I've been here for eight months today. For those of you who think eight months is a long time, it really isn't. For those of you who think eight months isn't that long, it really is. The rainy season has come and gone and come again. Shoes have gone out of style, hair has grown. Babies have been born, first steps have been taken. Spanish has been learned and Calculus forgotten. My brothers have grown taller. I've grown wider. The sun sets in a different spot on the horizon. Memories have faded and others have taken their place. I've changed. I've been changed.

missed hanging up cords in Mr. Thompon's digital media room. It's a strange thing how pieces of your life fling themselves back at you when you least expect it, like hearing Shaggy's "You're My Angel" blasting out of a shoe store and thinking of the fourth grade Valentine's dance.

realized I am going to miss this state of transition. This year for me has been such a great step -- now I'm about to go make a much more permanent home in Chicago come September. I like the limbo though; it's a lot of looking back and gazing forward.

smiled as my heart split and swallowed up all my homesickness. Little Tanya, the daughter of one of my students (she's wearing a crown in a photo I posted recently), flew up to me, latching her skinny arms around my neck and smothering my cheek in a sticky lollipop kiss. I held onto that moment, wrapped it in a fragile lining of simple smiles, and laid it down next to other things I carry within me. Wrenched back to reality, I broke the news to Tanya.

"Tengo que irme en dos semanas. I'm leaving two weeks from today."
"¿Pero por que? But why?"
"I need to work. I need to study."
She looked at me, her elbows hugging my neck, fingers toying with the sun-bleached frizz-curls at the nape of my scalp. All her movement stilled as my reflection grew in her brightening cow eyes. The wisdom of children radiated from her.
"Why don't you just stay and study here at the Refuge?"

- Hannah