This month in America has been fabulous. A time to recharge, see friends and family and get in those many many food cravings that I've held for two years. However, in packing and printing out my plane tickets the reality hits me that although I'm going back to Africa I'm heading across the continent far far away from Togo. It's a new adventure and experience and I'm starting all over again. I won't have my house already set up, I won't have my team of kids ready to give fist bumps and hugs, I won't have my amazing host family smiling and there for me. If I need a table made, or a new dress, or to have something brought to a nearby volunteer I won't know who to call-or even the language.
There's plenty of things that I don't miss from Togo- the stifling heat, the ants attacking my house, kids shouting the yovo song or the men calling "ma cherie." But there's plenty of things I miss already-Marie's pâte and gboma sauce with lots of hot peppers, Jules slyly asking for more raisins when he comes to my house, Amenuveve's little cry of "Anna!" and huge smile when I come down the street. While I've known that I'm not going back to Togo intellectually, I haven't really processed it yet and it makes my heart ache to think that I have no clue when I'll see those people again.
I'm excited for Rwanda, for a real COS trip (Tanzania and safaris!) And to see what we in Togo affectionately call "fun Africa." But it also means facing the reality that I've said my goodbyes in Togo and I don't know when I'll get to say hello again.