Adios

     43 hours from now I will be boarding a plane which will take me to Houston. 53 hours from now I will be landing in Minneapolis. The adventure I set out on nearly 10 months ago is very nearly over, and I'm confused. Over the last week I've said goodbye to my high schoolers, wished them luck, and wiped away tears. I've taken my last trip to the grocery store, handed in my last grades, ridden in my last way-overcrowded taxi. I've had my last conversations with several of the other teachers who have already left Honduras and packed up the majority of my belongings. I'm ready to go home.

     Not only am I physically ready, I'm mentally prepared to go home. I want to see my family, my friends, and sleep in my own bed. I can't wait to walk down the street without worrying about being run over by the trucks that zoom past pedestrians much too close for comfort. I'm anxious for the cooler weather. I'm excited to be able to go into a restaurant and know they'll have something for me to eat. I'm ready to go home.
     And yet, I have a pit in my stomach telling me I'm going to miss this place. All along I've known I was going to miss my students. They're the reason I stuck it out this long, they're what made this whole insane journey worth it. I've known I was going to miss the other teachers; some of the friendships I've made here will last a long time, and I cannot imagine my life here without them. Those things haven't changed. Saying goodbye to the people I've grown close to has been and will continue to be the hardest part about leaving.
     But I realized today that I am going to miss more than the people. There is something about Honduras itself that I am going to miss. I couldn't for the life of me tell you what specifically, but I know it's there, otherwise I wouldn't have been so emotional lying out in the hammock watching the clouds slowly descend over the mountains.

     I am going to miss this country. Not in the way I miss Minneapolis or Europe- the kind of missing where you know somehow you belong there and are simply waiting for the right time to go back. That's not what Honduras was for me. I don't belong here. I don't want to put roots down here. I'm going to miss Honduras in a different, but no less poignant way. Honduras challenged me like I've never been challenged before. It pushed me and nearly broke me, but I made it through. I finished something important here that I wasn't sure I could. I accomplished something that seemed impossible at times. Honduras made me into a stronger, more confident person, and you can never truly get away from a place like that.