As my time in Malawi comes to a close (I have about 8 days left), I have no choice but to begin and reflect on the last four months as a whole.

Slowly but surely I began to love this place, to love everything about it. I began to love the people at church that shake my hand and greet me with smiles. I began to love the student, Chimwemwe who drops by the house unexpectedly just to chat (often for hours), and the students at my school who complain about Malawi, but clearly take pride in this country and the fact that they call it home. I began love the Jacaranda trees that bloom wildly around the city, the hot air, the stillness of a night with no electricity. When I stand up in front of a group to introduce myself, I start by saying, “I really love Malawi”, and it couldn’t be truer.

But at the same time, I’m startled at how routine things have become; my life in Africa has normalized. I never thought this experience would stop being an experience and start just being life. But, I think, that’s part of the experience.

When I’m gazing out the window at Ndirande Mountain during my geography lesson or I’m sitting around the dinner table with the Olivers. Maybe it’s late at night and I’m cross-legged on my bed in the dark or driving through the Malawian bush, mashed into the back seat. Or at the lake, sitting on the deck of a boat watching the sunset. It’s during these times that I become conscious of how lucky I am or how crazy I am, depending on the way you look at things. But day-to-day, its just life. Dangerously easy to get used to.

Dangerous because it would be so easy to stay. Strangely enough, I’ve fallen into a comfort zone here. Going home will be the difficult part. I think to go home and face all of the sacrifices I made; to face my friends and everything I have missed, and to face my future will be the tough part.  Plus the fact that I am really, really going to miss it here.

So for what reason am I going? Why do I feel compelled to leave a place if I love it so much? It’s very simple, actually. I need to go home. I need to see my family again. I miss them tremendously. It’s True, I have a family here but, I’m ready to be a Bryant again.

And I need to graduate high school.

My feet are cracked, and perpetually black on the bottoms, my hair is ratty, split and damaged from the dry air. Even Reverend Nkata tells me I need to brush it. My nails are not transparent as they should be and I miss my family and friends, but somehow I just can’t imagine leaving this place and these people that I have learned to love. How can I even begin to say goodbye?

 

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