(This is not the picture post I promised. I originally wrote this a few days ago and hesitated to post it at the time—I didn't want it to be a spur of the moment emotional thing and I didn't want anyone to worry about me. However, because a few days have passed and I still feel the same way, I'm going to go ahead and post it).

I have never felt more alone in my life.

I miss meaningful human interactions. In any given day, I only talk to the people in my program, my professors talk at me, and I talk to my family.

My family is absolutely wonderful, but as much as they try to incorporate me into their family, something in my mind is resisting it—they are not my family. My family is at home, in South Carolina. I would love to say that my professors are great and they care about me on a personal level--but this isn't Wofford. I miss that connection that I have at Wofford with my professors. And the people in my program are great too—but they are certainly not my roommates or my best friends. Four weeks ago, they were complete strangers, just a name on a page. Our single common bond is that we have been coincidentally thrown into the same situation.

But really, our situations are not the same. We are in the same program, in the same country; but each of us is working in a different community, in a different home, in a different organization.

This is truly overwhelming. I clearly don't fit in here and I don't really feel like I belong, either. I know that this is something that takes time—and in time, it will happen. And while I don't miss home, per say, I definitely miss the people and the familiarity. I'm struggling to find something familiar here.

Right now, I'm clinging to the little girls in the community that I'm working for. Kids are kids. They laugh and giggle and are absolutely awed that I'm in their community. The only word I can think of to describe it is joy. Their laughter and their happiness is contagious—I can't feel anything other than happy when I'm around them. Even though we have a language barrier, they are interested in me. Not because I have blond hair (okay, they are a little interested in that) and blue eyes and stand out like a sore thumb, and not because I speak English. They want me to play with them and be part of their world. It's so comforting to be wanted, even if it's by seven year olds.

I'm happy here, I really am. I'm enjoying my time and I'm happy with my family and classes and my organization. It's a little unnerving to be alone, but I know that in time, things will improve. (Read: Don't buy me a plane ticket home and don't come get me).