Grasping for the surface

Today after arriving home from school the emotions hit me. I guess I’m finally getting used to the fact that I’m going to be living here for the next eight months. I’m guessing this is one of those stages that the physiologists tell your going to go through, I never read any of the culture adaption stuff the NSA sent me. I think the last time I was this emotional was probably in grade seven or eight. It happened while I was reading an email from my dad; suddenly I was hit by a wave that threatened to drown me and I was left gasping for the surface, not really sure which way was up. I guess I’m feeling a little lonely, missing my family, my friends, the people I know, and the things that I know, everything that is familiar to me. I think it was the talk of the boat that Dad is rescuing right now that really made it real for me, and that I really am about as far away from home and what I know best that I could possibly be. I’ve always felt claustrophobic when I’m not near the ocean. I don’t think I really thought about the immensity of what I was doing, even when I was on the plane, even when I arrived in Addis, not until now when it hit and swamped my all at once. My eyes feel a little like the sky that’s been gushing rain all day. It’s not all that easy to deal with, and I’m still grasping for reality. I don’t know how I would be able to cope with it if it wasn’t for constant prayer. Eight months seems like eternity right now, but last week felt like a day.  I’m not so sure that we’re looking at the same stars Dad, I couldn’t recognize anything last night.