Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Occasionally I forget how much I am loved.

On Friday afternoon, I made a phone call that I didn't think I would make while I was here. "Mom, I'm thinking about coming home". It wasn't a decision made on a whim, either. I wrote about it here and have also talked to the people in my program and my program director about it a few times. Friday was the breaking point, though.

Friday morning we went to a museum as a group and had our one month group meeting afterwards. The subject of host families came up and everyone was talking about how great of a time they were having. I didn't say a word because I didn't want to give false impressions, but I didn't want to complain either. My quietness didn't go under the radar like I had hoped, though.

Let me tell you a little bit about my family first. I love them a lot, I really do. My mom clearly cares about me and my sister thinks I'm fun. I enjoy being around them and talking with them. The only problem: They are never here. And in a country where I already feel out of whack and don't really know what's going on, having a family here to talk to and be a part of would be great.

I didn't really realize how much this was affecting me until it was brought up. And then, I realized that I'm home by myself at least 5 hours every. single. night. My sister takes night classes so she's obviously not here and my mom is either with her mom or sister-in-law or somewhere else. It's really hard to feel included when you're by yourself.

Elaine, my program director, realized that things aren't okay for me. So, we did what anyone would do: we called up Amy Lancaster at Wofford College. Amy Lancaster was my spanish teacher first semester of my freshman year, knows my brother from high school, and basically runs the study abroad program at Wofford; she's like family. After considering my options with her, Elaine and I talked again.

And nobody be too disappointed, but, I'm not coming home.

I am, however, changing families. As soon as Elaine finds somewhere to put me, (hopefully Monday or Tuesday), I'm moving out. And my family doesn't know this yet, but they do know that I wanted to go home. Things are really really awkward right now, but it's only for a few more days.

I also spent awhile talking to Elaine about my organization. I feel kind of out of the loop because I go to my community 3 or 4 days a week, but I don't really know what I'm doing. I've had friends and family ask me about what I'm doing and the only concrete thing I can come up with is that I'm hanging out with seven year olds and meeting people in the community. I guess I'm trying to integrate (as much as my blue eye, blonde hair self can) would be a better explanation. I'm having a meeting with Elaine and the lady from my community and the organization director on Tuesday to sort things out. Everyone who has already had this meeting with their organization in the past week feels so much better about everything, so I'm hoping I will too.

But back to forgetting how much I'm loved.

I'm not a quitter--I never have been. I have a drive that I'm not really sure where it comes from, but it's keeping me going.

When we got back to school after the museum and one month meeting, everyone in our group knew that I wasn't okay. I figured it would be best to be frank with them, so I told them that I was thinking about going home. They freaked out. Chris asked me who he would walk to school with. Ashley begged me not to go. Stephanie just stared at me like I was out of my mind.

And in those moments, I realized that we're not fake friends anymore. We've grown to be real friends. In each one of them, I'm finding pieces of my friends from home. For example, Dan and I love to translate things literally so that they end up sounding ridiculous. This reminds me so much of Jenna (my roommate), and while Dan is not Jenna by any means, it makes missing her a little bit easier.

I also talked to my Nana and Papa last night for the first time since I've been here (which was really hard, because I could sit all day and talk to them but we only had 10 short minutes). They told me that there are so many people asking about me and reading my blog. My mom has told me the same thing. I didn't realize that the whole world cared!

So, I'm staying here. But I know that there are a whole lot of people fighting for me here and there are even more people fighting for me at home. And that makes everything just a little bit easier. :)