some of the floor rubbed off onto my pants–when we went to visit the home of the boy my family sponsors~I still have them in a bag, I can’t bear to wash them yet
Now that I’ve been back a full 13 days from the Compassion Bloggers trip to Tanzania (I’m writing this post the night before it’s published if you are wondering) I’m finding the most common questions I get asked are “What was it REALLY like?” and “Can we hear all about your trip soon?” And the clincher “So, how has Africa changed you?”. And I know these wonderful, caring people who ask me are lovely and genuine and I wish I had really great answers for them. It’s not them, it’s me. The introvert in me just wants to say oh, I’d love to tell you all about it, here’s a link to my blog. And sometimes I do say that. It’s a wonder I have any friends at all.
We went, and we wrote our hearts out. The highlight of the trip for me was getting to meet the 15-year-old boy that my family sponsors. And I certainly cannot put into words, not even one word how Africa has or hasn’t changed me. I can barely sleep past 4:30 am still. A big part of me just simply doesn’t feel like talking about it a whole lot right now. I just want to be. Before I went on this trip I figured when I got back I’d write a really great post here at (in)courage but right now, I feel like I’ve said all I can. If I write any more my words will just be getting in the way of the stories we saw. So I’m gonna tell you the same things I tell the friends I still have (the people who can actually put up with me~I have the most wonderful friends) wanna here about my trip, want to hear what really happened? Go read this:: Decorating Truths From a 15-Year-Old Tanzanian Boy because that post pretty much summed up the trip for me.
Who comes back from a trip and doesn’t want to talk about it? Forgive me people of the world and thank you for putting up with me.