Mosquitos are everywhere.

Almost everything you've read about India is true. Even if almost everything you've read about India is contradictory and conflicting.

I don't think I have the energy to write anything more. I am both heartbroken and so full of love and hope.

Today, I saw the place where I very well could have grown up if my dad had not decided to move to the United States. There were three cows in the front yard, and the streets leading up the house were too narrow for a car. 

I think about the choices of so many people that have led me to where I am sitting right now, and I am so grateful. I am so, so grateful.

I miss all of you. I wish we could all cuddle and talk and hug for a little bit. But I will be back soon. Right? Right. 

And I will surely cry.

Because this place is my place. This soil is my soil.

In so many ways, it is where I belong.

And in so many ways, it is as foreign to me as it is to Kayla.
I am a stranger in my own land.


...Has that phrase been used before?