After almost seven sleepless, draining, seemingly-endless weeks in Manila, I was able to return to Bohol this past weekend. While Manila is a wonderful place to visit, it is a very hard place to call home if you are used to mountains, trees, and elbow room. The heat, grime, and crowds of the city were a hard adjustment for me, and I also struggled with the lack of purpose and the uncertainty of the situation. It didn’t help that the entire time I was there, a short flight and bus ride were all that separated me from my second home. It was almost maddening. Luckily, I was consolidated with a number of amazing volunteers and supported by the staff at the Peace Corps office in Manila. I was even sent out to visit the sites of other Volunteers and help with camps and other special programs (see my blogs on Pampanga and Negros).
After an hour-long flight, and a couple of hours on the bus, I got down in my town and walked home. I was greeted at the door by my pup, Cooper, who whined and licked a every available inch of my skin for about an hour (this made it a bit tricky to unpack). Later that evening, my host family, who had been out for the day, arrived and I was given a nice welcome-home/belated-birthday-party.
Anyway, I’ve only been home for about two days now, so there isn’t much to write about, but hopefully I’ll have more to recount in the coming weeks, now that I’m back to site and back to work. I’ve got to make up for the lost time.