I hear it called from homes I walk by, on the street, in shops, and all around the school. They remember me and in fact have been waiting for me and within the first hour I found myself sitting on the coach in Dorothy's home as a trail winding out the door of familiar faces lining up to shake my hand and greet me. I am home amongst old family and friends and students now and it feels good. Yet I forgot, after being around people my age, having access to water, often hot water, and internet, being able to walk to a supermarket or go to a bar, I forgot for a moment the struggle of rural village life.
No comments:
Post a Comment