May 15

I am sitting in first class on an airplane bound for San Antonio (because my dad is a Delta pilot and with that comes free tickets depending on seat availability). First class is an interesting place for someone who just spent four months living in a third world country to be, and I feel quite out of place with my disheveled hair, glasses that are slightly tilted and keep falling off my nose, dirty sandals that I have worn everyday for the past four months, black workout pants that are rolled up, Leigha's oversized bright orange t-shirt from Goodwill, and this messy notebook in my lap instead of some high-tech electronic device.

It still hasn't sunk in that I have said goodbye to my eight sisters, that I am alone on an airplane flying home to see my family. I've cried several times in the past few days even though I told myself I wouldn't. Sometimes you don't realize how much someone means to you until you have to say goodbye. I think in a week or so it is going to finally hit me that all nine of us really did part ways, at least for now. I keep expecting to meet back up with them in a few hours or see one of them appear from around the corner and come sit next to me in this lonely first class cabin.

I'm not going to be able to hear Leigha say "Es chort" or "Es bongalong" or do her Marcel the Shell impersonation. Hope isn't going to be there to joke with and have great conversations with or do the GusGus voice. I'm not going to have Wendi to hug or to do her old person facial impersonation and Saleena won't be there to have deep conversations with amidst our ghetto talk. Alisa is not going to be in the bed next to me and I will miss laughing and always having fun with Britt. Neither will Calah be there to joke with and to sit on, and who will be there to sass things up if Kristen is not around? No one is going to understand or laugh when I do the Elvis or Paula impersonations, say "Buenas!!" in my goat voice or crave gallo pinto or maduros.

I'm not going to be able to sit on Wendi's bed, bother Hope while she's trying to write a blog, be completely myself without having to impress anyone or hang out with Leigha in the room instead of going to church ontime.

True community really is a beautiful thing, and I can't imagine that most people live their entire lives without experiencing it. Being independent sucks…

It's strange here on this airplane. People here don't stare at me because I'm white, whistle at me or assume I'm rich (although maybe they do if I'm in first class). Last night all nine of us sat on the airport floor, shivering because of the air-conditioning, scarfing down airport food as several passersby stared at us or at the very least noticed that we were slightly unkempt and sitting on the "dirty" tile floor in a main hallway. The air-conditioning, hot water, clean floors and beds fit for queens that we experienced our first night back in America in a hotel were strange. Yesterday evening Hope, Brittany, Leigha and I were cracking jokes and laughing hysterically as we walked through the Miami airport to our gate. Hope was literally bent over laughing and all of us were also laughing or doing crazy impersonations from our four months in Nicaragua as nearly every person we passed turned to stare. It wasn't even so much that they were staring to judge us or that our laughter was bothering them; I think they were looking at us almost out of curiosity because it is so uncommon to actually see people who are laughing so hard and so genuinely that they are on the verge of tears, especially in public.

BE FREE.

I vow to forever be free from societal expectations, the need to impress people, constraints of age, time or money and every other restriction that could possibly hold me back from being the child of God that He intends for me to be.

TOTAL FREEDOM.

LIBERTAD.