What is this happy feeling that seems to have sprouted deep inside my stomach?
That prickly resistance I´ve felt for so long is fading. My defenses are wearing thin and my acceptance of all things Santa Cruz is growing.
For so long all I could see were the differences that covered every wall and human within sight. I´ve started to see people going about their lives and their jobs in the same ways the have for generations before I arrived and in the same way they will for generations after I leave.
Some days I feel like everything that surrounds me is unfamiliar but I have to remind myself that I am the foreigner here.
I love waking up in the morning to my job at the orphanage. I love taking the 45 minute bus ride through the markets. Through street upon street of stalls overflowing with brooms and bread and rice and dead chickens hanging by their feet. I love the fast paced traffic that stops for nothing. I love to stop and pick up a Salteña each morning with its crispy dough outside and its warm greasy meaty inside. I love ringing the doorbell at Alalay and hearing the kids run to answer. I love knowing what kind of fantastic kids are waiting on the other side of the door.