Back "home"

"I had a dream I..stood beneath an orange sky. Yes I had a dream I..stood beneath an orange sky. With my brother standing by..said brother you know..it's a long road we've been walking on..such a long road we've been walking on. And I had a dream I..stood beneath an orange sky..with my sister standing by. I said sister, here is what I know now..in your love, my salvation lies..in your love..my salvation lies in your love, in your love, in your love. But sister, you know I'm so weary. And you know sister, my heart's been broken. Sometimes, sometimes, my mind is too strong..to carry on. When I am alone..when I've thrown off the weight of this crazy stone..when I've lost all care for the things I own..that's when I miss you..Well, I had a dream I..stood beneath an orange sky with my brother and my sister standing by."
-Alexi Murdoch, Orange Sky

Home sweet home. What does that mean anyway - "home?" Is it where my Mom or Dad lives? Is it where I'm currently working, living? Is it France or Tanzania or America? Georgia or Florida or North Carolina or California? Is it where the heart is, as the saying goes? If that's the case, then my home is a lot of places.

Feeling "home" in a lot of places - is that a bad thing, I wonder, strolling through the Atlanta airport? I haven't been in Hartsfield, the busiest airport in the world, in about 14 months since my last trip back for my grandmother's funeral. I take a deep breath, appreciating the energy and diversity one senses in an airport, a crossroads leading to any major city in the world.

How ironic it feels, passing a crew of soldiers, decked in camo, heading to or from war, I'm not sure. In walks the returning Peace Corps volunteer - me - the antithesis to what they all stand for, to what they say to the world. Peace or war? Exchange or isolation? I say peace wins. I think Obama's got the right idea when he says he wants to double the Peace Corps. Change, real change happens on a person-to-person level, through relationships. How can we hate Muslims when we know Muslims? We can't discriminate or judge when we relate as human beings. Wouldn't the world be different if we could simply view each other as human beings, instead of as 'this' (insert the box of your choosing), or as 'that'?!

"If we change the way we look at things, the things we look at change" -A billboard in Johannesburg

My thoughts wander back to the elections, a mere two weeks away. Aside from the market crashing, what an ideal time it is to return back to the US. This election is historic, especially in the city of Atlanta, where Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream was born for freedom for all, black and white. At long last, in 2008, a black man named Obama stands on a precipice, about to become the leader of our nation, our world. Imagine what his election as president, a true representation of America as a melting pot, will say to the world! So many thought they'd never see the day. The day will come. The day is near.

"We are on a security threat level, code orange...please pay attention to your belongings" echoes above me on the loud speaker. Rudely awakened from my daydreaming, I ask myself, did I hear that right?! Unfortunately, yes. The echo returns. I am indeed back in the fear-filled United States.

Why must we be overtaken, controlled by this fear? This is exactly what's keeping us insular, separated from the rest of the world. This same fear is what is preventing so many from supporting Obama. He's not what they know. He's not comfortable, relatable, likeable, some argue. I'm proud to say Obama is all of those things to me.

Maybe it's because my home's in so many places that he is relatable. I have left the bubble of Buckhead, Atlanta. I have studied and worked abroad. I have befriended Muslims. I have known and loved people that are unlike me. And I have felt a deep, human connection with these same people. I had a Muslim guide in Mahale National Park named Hussein and didn't think twice about it. He is my brother. He is my friend. We are all connected if we have a heart beat.

If Peace Corps has taught me anything, it's taught me what it means to be a human being and how to love other human beings. It's shown me that we are all essentially the same. It's revealed to me the powerful, magical network that is life...and that life is about relationships, about connecting. Period.

Peace Corps has also exposed my humanness, my strengths and weaknesses - mostly the latter. I am not perfect. I am broken. I am weak. But I am also strong.

"Above all the grace and the gifts that Christ gives to his beloved is that of overcoming self." -St. Francis of Assisi

I amble on, refusing to enter the shuttle, the fastest way to baggage claim. Instead, I opt for traversing the Zimbabwe exhibit, which has been displaying sculpture and radiating drumbeats down a long corridor since I can remember. I live for that little stretch before entering reality again. It's my last taste of Africa for a while.

And with a giant exhale, I put my weight on the giant escalator leading up, up, up...to my Mom's embrace. It feels good to be home, even if this is just one of the many homes where my heart resides.

"Be content with what you have...never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." -Hebrews 13:5

"To be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others." -Mandela (from Apartheid Museum in Jo'burg)

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