June first was my nine month anniversary. As time has been going on, I've found that the days that are my month markers have become less significant. But I remembered June first because it's my second to last month marker. Why am I writing a blog about it? Because it's frustrating in some ways. I feel like it's only been in the last month or so that I've actually gotten comfortable with my life here, and the language. I mean It's great because I'm not afraid of the language or the culture anymore, But in 38 days I'm going to be getting off a plane in Cleveland, greet my family and probably feel like a foreigner among my own country-men. Why? Well because let's be perfectly honest. I've spent the last nine months and two days trying my best to not be American. I've tried to adapt to this culture, and this life and this language, and I've finally done it. Now I'm going to be going home.
38 days. When you say it like that, it's not very long. One thing I've learned is how fast time goes. I mean really. In some ways this has felt like the longest year of my life and in others, it hasn't. I don't know. I think for the most part, I'm excited to be going home. I'm ready to see the Family. In other ways, I'm scared because even though I don't know exactly how, I know I've changed. I was reading my first journal the other day. The one that covers september to December and I laughed because I'm not that person anymore. I look back and just think "Wow, I was so Naive. I didn't know anything." And in some ways, I still don't know anything. But in some ways, I know so much more than I ever thought possible. I can't describe the feelings I've been having the past few weeks. Sometimes I just feel disconnected from this place already. Sometimes it feels like I'm living in a dream and one day I'm going to wake up and be back home. And In a sense, I guess that I am.