Missing

One of the reasons I decided to come to Haiti was to test my ability to live in a developing country, away from my "first-world" comforts and surrounded by realities that would challenge me. My response thus far has been very similar to what I expected it would be. I do miss reliable electricity, hot water, washing machines, paved roads, sanitation, fresh produce, and all that fun stuff but, really, I can live without those things and still be happy. The things I truly miss, the absences that hurt, are not things at all, of course. I miss people - my family, my friends, and you.

I have very much appreciated the company of my fellow interns (I sincerely think I might have lost my mind if I was here without them), but I am starting to yearn for the companionship of those people who know and love me. My experience here has been somewhat different compared to my other travel/study/service/work experiences. For whatever reason, after almost seven weeks here, I still feel a bit disconnected from the rest of the compound. I feel like I'm stuck in the in-between land of "acquaintance-ship" - not quite strangers but not good friends either.

I really became aware of this a week or so ago, after I wrote a particularly angsty blog post. I was surprised with the response; I opened my inbox to find eight or nine supportive, loving messages from people back home. They were able to see through my anger, they were able to understand me, and they were able to love me in all my craziness.

The response from some of the other interns here, however, was quite different. Let's just say there appeared to be some misunderstanding, something that happens a lot around here.

It's been strange for me to be here, to be doing this kind of work and seeing what I'm seeing, without developing a level of intimacy or shared vulnerability. I'm used to my life being an ongoing conversation, a discussion of love and truth and beauty and responsibility and dignity and solidarity. That hasn't happened here. Maybe it just doesn't happen everywhere? I'm not sure.

It has been nice to disconnect for awhile, to form friendships free from the intensity and seriousness that usually characterizes my relationships, but I will be extremely happy to get home next week and get tangled back up into my life. Time away always makes me appreciate what I have, and this summer is no exception. I am learning to love my family and friends more and more, and to recognize exactly how blessed I am to have them all.

But this experience is teaching me something more than just gratitude; it's teaching me to look closely at what I want, and what I need. I know I can live like this for two months, but can I do this for a year? Five years? An indefinite amount of time? Would I recreate my beloved support system eventually? Or is it a rarity I should hold onto? Is it sustainable for me to live without the intimacy, the companionship I so love? Right now, I don't know, but I will certainly be thinking about that.

Now that I think again, I realize that I have had this experience before; this very blog has a passage from my journal freshman year, where I lamented having people to laugh with, but not people to cry with. It got better. Maybe I'm just impatient. We'll see.

Either way, I miss you all, and I am very excited to get home and start the conversation again. I can't wait to start the story-swapping and life-sharing.