a glimpse of life after Africa from James in Sudan:

he was speaking the other night that after you do one mission, and you go back home, you are ruined. there is a distance between you and others that is irreconcilable, things that you cannot share. when you try, the people you talk to either cannot place themselves there, or they realize they don’t want to know after all. the larger the rift becomes. you arrive home, exhausted, longing for familiar comforts you thought you missed, but after a short time, no matter how hard the previous mission was, you feel the pull. if at least to be around people who have known a similar world.

i’ve had a few emails and comments from friends asking if i’m excited about and looking forward to Zambia. a lot of friends don’t even ask at all because it’s sort of taken for granted that going to Africa for a month will be such a freaking amazing experience, how could someone NOT be so excited they could jump out of their pants?

and yet, it’s sort of bittersweet. Jonathan’s job has been crazy since i came back to town a month ago and only promises to slow down next month, after i’ve left. i also think i’m going into this a bit blissfully naive. James’ quote above speaks of MSF stints longer than a month, but i don’t doubt the power of 30 days to change me inside-out.

if i was to be really honest, i’d admit i’m nervous.

i haven’t seriously second-guessed my “call to medicine” in the last four years. and i have never doubted my desire to (eventually) work overseas in third-world countries. this is going to be so very different than volunteering at St. Paul’s in downtown Vancouver…

firm slaps in the face with reality always make me a little nervous.

but it’s why i love to travel so much. every trip, every tribulation, every challenge, every failure, every triumph, every leg of every flight is another experience egging me on to the person i am meant to become.

i’m so excited i could jump out of my pants.

You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.