4:30 in the morning, my time, and I am being so very Euro-African as I sit in the airport sipping my latte and eating a scone... whilst dawning the Ghanaian dress that I received as a gift. All is well. I left Ghana last night and the whole ordeal seemed like an awful blur of chaos, farewells and food. But we all made it through, although I must admit that yes, I did cry. But I think that it is perfectly fine to express emotions, so I went for it. However, it was not nearly as dramatic as two years ago.
I now have 4 hours to walk around Amsterdam... Schipol Airport. It has taken so much self control not to walk out into the city. Only a select few understand the gravitational pull toward Dam Square, the Cleft or Dwazezaken. Ah, I cannot even think about it! So I was leisurely meandering through the gates and saw the exit and customs... I started to move toward it and thought, should I? But then I realized that if I left, I would never come back. Thus, I am eating my scone. I just have to remember that someday in the future, I will get to spend plenty plenty time in Amsterdam... when I move here.
I have not yet grasped the magnitude of my trip to Ghana, now will I ever, I imagine. And I definitely have not begun to deal with leaving my loved ones again... that will take time, and probably quite a bit of it. But right now, I am content and sleep deprived and really not looking forward to DFW. Bleh. I think I might go make a European friend... wish me luck!
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