Epilogue

I am home--HOME, such a weird word. Actually, I am not home because I don't know where home is, but let's just say, for simplicity sake, home is the United States.

Home could be Boston for the next few years. It's where I am now and I like it (except for the frozen water that insists on falling from the sky). It is probably as different from Mozambique as I could get right now, and different is what I was seeking when I went to Moz, and different is still what I want. So despite all my instincts that fight against change, that scream "different is BAD! go back to what you know!" I find that I can't. I am different now, and I'm not quite sure what the "known" is. Africa has changed me, provided a much-needed perspective. Part of me is still there--part of me knows that Moz acted like a crucible for my character, burning away the fat, refining it. I loved it, and it was hard.

I hope to go back someday.