In less than a week, I went from a tropical volcanic lakeshore to the Windy City in fall.
When I awoke the next morning and saw that most of the leaves had fallen and the few left (as on this pear tree) had changed into vivid hues, I felt as if my lungs had opened and I stood tall (pretty conceptual from my towering 5' 2" status).
Going from a third world country into Thanksgiving celebrated in the States was lovely, but challenging. I noticed that I was the only one at the table who finished everything on their plate. Watching my mom's and dad's dogs chomp away at their big butcher bones, I couldn't help but be reminded of the discrepancy between them and the packs of skinny non-species specific mutts who roamed and patrolled the village and whose barking filled the night until the sound of the cocks' crows an hour before dawn.
I am always happy to be home amidst loved ones and plumbing. Upon returning from Guatemala, I usually take longer to adjust to what's taken for granted in the empire.
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