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Time Continuum

During PST I’ve lost almost all sense of time… sure, I typically know what day of the week it is and often even the exact date, but it means little in the context. Days are full of training, nights full of reading or writing. One day several weekends ago it suddenly struck me that we were under a month out from swearing in. As of posting, we only have two weeks. Where did November go?

I have the strange sensation of being suspended in both space in time. Like I will wake up at any moment back in my apartment in San Antonio, snuggled up with my adorable puppy, and this will have all been some crazy, surreal dream. Like my mefloquin dreams. So vivid it seems really, but something isn’t quite right.

Yet this is not a dream.

Life back home has gone on without me. I’ve never felt so disconnected from the people I love. My cell phone only works part of the time. Internet time is taken in bits and pieces, whenever we have a break on hub day and we’re able to run across the street or to an internet cafe. Staying connected with people is really tough.

So days float on. Life happens. Several weeks ago America re-elected the president and my best friend got married. The biggest news in my week? A goat in my language instructor’s compound gave birth and now there are two adorable baby goats running around on wobbly legs.

The disconnect is obvious. The pace of life here is slower. It’s more intentional. It’s tested my flexibility and patience more than anything ever has before.

But I just focus on the moment. There is little past here and a vast future, but right now, the present is the moment.

The rest will fall into place.

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