I woke up this morning to a neighbor singing at the top of his lungs. And while he didn't always hit all the notes, he sang with a joy typical of many Brazilians. Even though I was slightly annoyed by the early wake-up call, I realized that it is exactly these types of experiences that I'm going to miss when I return to the U.S. shortly.

I arrived in Recife last night after saying goodbye to everyone in Monteiro. Goodbyes are hard enough in English, but in Portuguese they were even more difficult to me. I don't think I've realized what leaving means to me. I feel like I'm just going on a weekend trip and that soon I'll return to Monteiro and the friendships will continue as they had been. But I have no idea when I'll ever return to Brazil.

I know it's the little things that I'll miss, the things that may annoy me now: the neighbor waking me up with his joyful song, the blaring heat, the muddy roads, the difficulties in conversation. These things made life an adventure. I feel like I will be returning to a boring life in the U.S., where I know what to expect, where I can be understood, where each day is predictable.

I'll also miss the people. My host family has become a part of my life now, and I know that I'll miss playing with my host brothers or chatting with my host parents. I'll also miss the MCCers in Monteiro. They were technical supports in my work, and spiritual supports in my life.

People ask me if I'm ready to go home, and I don't know what to say. Sure, I want to go home, but I also have a home here now.

So on July 17 I'll be leaving Brazil to head to reorientation (or is it disorientation?) in Akron, and then I'll be heading to my home in Kansas on July 24. But I'll be leaving another home here.