Leaving

My plane to Kenya

Leaving seems to be the topic of almost every conversation. Just yesterday, I walked into my room to find Macy sitting on the floor with one suitcase completely packed and ready to go. Granted, she leaves sooner than I do, but not that much sooner! The SMs can't seem to stop talking about the food we will eat when we arrive in North America, how long we will roll around on carpet when we first see it, and how strange it will be to drive on the right side of the road again.

I have very mixed feelings about leaving; about packing up my whole life for a year, sorting through the heavy parts, packing it all into two suitcases and a backpack, and heading back to Tennessee. I absolutely love it here in Kenya. I love the weather, the Ngong hills out my window, and my students. But I think I'm finally ready to go home. As much as I thought he was crazy at the beginning of the year, Derek knew what he was talking about; ten months is about the right amount of time to serve as an SM.

After 9 months, I'm tired of the food in the cafe, I'm tired of not having my own source of transportation, and I'm tired of dealing with disrespectful students. I wasn't homesick in the beginning  but now I find my mind wandering more often to my family, the chemistry department at school, and vague memories of what the true cold of winter feels like. But at the same time, I know that my heart will crave Kenya when I'm gone. I know that I want to come back. There are friends and students here who I dread leaving with all my heart. As much as I want to go home, I can't bear wishing away one day with my freshmen, or one moment with this crazy group of 7 missionaries I now call friends.