Sitting at our dining room table in Cusco, and it feels good to be home.
Home.
That word is so weird.
I have lived in Peru for almost nine months, but most of that time, I didn’t have a home. The house I lived in for the first three months was always “my host family’s house.” And Zamacola was never home, that’s for sure. But I did have family there. And it was incredibly hard to say goodbye to them Saturday night.
Friday night was our graduation. Everybody got dressed up, we marched in, and then we had the whole ceremony where we received our diplomas and they prayed for us and our ministry, and basically sent us out.
Saturday morning we had to wake up early and pack. Once I saw my stuff all packed up and put in the moving truck, it became real to me that we were leaving.
And Saturday night we had to say goodbye to our Arequipa family whom we have been with since L.A. and also the Puno group, who we have been on this journey with since they got here in May and moved in with us in August. And Cailyn Stevens, the girl who never cries, was an absolute squallbag. Because as Jen (the cluster mom for the Arequipa group) said, it is not natural to rip a family apart like that.
But Sunday morning we arrived in Cusco. We cleaned and shopped, which is actually what we’ve done everyday in Cusco. Monday, are stuff arrived, and on time! This was a huge step toward homey-ness, since the night before we slept on the cold, hard floor of a very empty house. But we were still without toilet seats until Tuesday night.
And Tuesday night, we had a family meal together, and it really did feel like home!
