I got hit hard this week. I took a trip to the countryside. We had a great trip. We visited a nomadic tribe and camped out with them overnight. The next day was a full day of driving. We drove to a town in the mountains I had been to a couple times before.
The drive was beautiful. It was the first time I had been on some of those roads. I was able to take lots of pictures. I’ll get some posted soon.
On the drive a colleague asked a question. “What will you miss the most when you go?” I didn’t really know the answer. I spent a few minutes thinking about it and then mentioned a couple things. I’ll miss the slow pace of life. I’ll miss my coworkers. I’ll miss being a part of the work we have started recently. I’ll miss the people’s hospitality. I’ll miss the coffee and the hours in cafes. I’ll miss my friends. I’ll miss lots.
I assume I won’t understand all I am going to miss until I’m gone. It was that way when I left the States too. I had ideas of what I would miss. I realized what I truly missed when I began to live life here.
But the question messed me up. It made it a reality that three weeks from today I’ll be in
Also remember me as I travel to
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