Beauty

The Homecoming Lament

It has been twice now that I have left Africa. And it has been twice now that I missed it before I even left. Its a feeling unlike others, where I can't really find anything else to replace that emptiness. Its similar to the feeling that only other places have provided, in the sense that certain places and certain people contribute certain things to your life. I long for Korea, I long for Ireland, for Italy, for home...because they have supplied a rare or unique experience not found elsewhere. But the thing is, I may have felt more at home in Africa than I ever have here. And now I don't know what to do with myself. It appears that I have easily slipped back into my typical routine, my life here, but I feel so out of place.
I'm annoyed. I'm irritated at peoples' complaining and whinning, sense of entitlement, and waste of food. I'm distracted and unnerved, and without...well, I'm not even sure to tell you the truth. It hurts to leave that place. And I thought that going back would maybe do away with the last bit of those feelings; resolve some of the discontent. But the hurt just came back, stronger than it had been over the past year or so. It doesn't go away.