Nine months ago today I got on a plane and left my home country. I haven’t set foot on American soil since (other then an afternoon at the embassy here in Lesotho, but does that count?). It’s a bit odd to be gone from home for that long. But what is home really? I miss all my friends and family, but I’ve made a home here in Lesotho.
I was talking with a child of a long-time missionary today. Her home country is the US, but she hasn’t lived there since she was three (she’s 14). Here is home to her. She’s lived in a couple different countries, but they’ve been in Lesotho for many years. This is what she knows.
I do miss the US. I miss some of the conveniences that are not available here (hello dryer, heat, and air conditioning!). It was definitely different being in another country on the 4th of July. In 2005, I was in Ireland on the 4th and this was my second 4th away from home. For the past 5 years I’ve had to work on the 4th, helping at LI’s soiree (think big picnic) and then the boat ride on the Potomac to watch the fireworks over the monuments. This year I worked all day and then headed to a friend’s house for burgers. One person brought a roman candle, so we had a form of fireworks and random singing of American songs. But I missed the fireworks, the boat ride with friends. I missed all the red, white, and blue. A few friends had some patriotic shirts, but I didn’t bring one. I wore purple, it counts right? It combines red and blue… I later realized I could have put on my Capitals shirt, it has red, white, and blue, too bad I remembered that over the weekend.
My 4th was fun, yet different. I guess that is what happens when you live in another country.
I hope all of you (who are American) had a wonderful 4th!