Final Bracelet

Things have been different since I returned from a week of vacation in Trujillo. I spent most of the week alone, reading, writing, and observing life around me. And between the ruins, the beach and an amazing Flamenco dance concert, I was able to assess where I’ve been, where I am and what it will mean to leave Peru in two months.

When I arrived back in Huánuco, it felt more like home than ever before. That realization shook me to tears when my host mother cheerfully asked, “How was your trip?”

I long to come home and return to my friends and family. But there is no denying that I have had a life here. I have let myself become truly a part of something apart from all I know. And in having taken that risk, and grown because of it, it is going to be somewhat devastating to leave those who have nurtured me along the way.

I can’t quite imagine what it will be like to say good-bye. But G-d is preparing me. Little by little, I am experiencing what it might feel like to let go.

In January, during the summer camps at the Granja farm, several of the young girls gave me plastic friendship bracelets. I left with six or seven, red, blue, yellow, green, to remind me of our time together. I decided to keep them on indefinitely, to feel connected to these amazing young ladies.

And now after a few months, all but one bracelet has snapped and broken off. I know it too will fall off someday when I least expect it, and I will be reminded that every day is one day closer to leaving.

But in the reality of the transitions to come, I am still here. And with that, I am able to gradually understand what this journey has meant, while still being among those who have informed the journey itself.

When I returned to the office on Monday, I was met with open arms and faces that have become so familiar. After my week of solitude, I felt changed somehow, wanting to be much more open, singing louder during our morning devotional and wanting to share more of who I am. And then, G-d presented me with an opportunity to do just that.

A group of volunteers from England visited the office that morning and I was immediately swept up in their wake, telling them about the work of Paz y Esperanza and sharing the high and lows of my experience in Peru. Then, yesterday, I was invited to join a group of college students from California for lunch at my co-worker’s house. She wouldn’t be joining us but she knew I’d enjoy meeting my paisanos (compatriots).

Spending time with both groups allowed me to reflect further on my time here. In light-hearted conversation, we asked each other:

Why did you decide to come to Peru? Do you miss home? How’s your Spanish? Has your family been supportive? Do you use Skype or Facebook? What will you do when you return to the States? Do you know where I can find bug repellent?

There was an instant unity and understanding that occurred during these exchanges. Some of us are idealistic nomads while others are focused on a specific growth experience or calling. However, we are all adapting to a new reality far from home, wondering how we will be changed by all of this.

I feel very content where I am, able to look back on my time here yet still walking the same streets. And if, as I’m walking, that last bracelet slips off, I’ll accept it as G-d’s way of letting me know it’s time to start letting go.