My mother claims that she knows I’m actually leaving the country once she hears me playing Cat Stevens. At the risk of being predictable, this time around my packing music has been all Whitney Houston. All Whitney, all the time. She gets me. The only thing I’ve ever wanted, really, is to dance with somebody who loves me.
Before Christmas I was all set to move to San Francisco; get a grown up job, a lease, try out the 9-5. But just when I thought I’d made up my mind, I received a volunteer grant from the Omprakash Foundation to go work in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala. I leave tomorrow evening, and I’ll spend the next four months back in the same town I visited two years ago, working with Escuela de la Calle (EDELAC), a school for street children. The bay area can wait a bit longer, for now it seems the universe wants me to keep being a tumbleweed. I will try my best to get this blog going again, I already know that I’ll have plenty of embarrassing stories to share.
I will be sad to say goodbye to this chapter. The past seven months in California have made me realize that somehow friends seem to be the most successful thing I’ve achieved in life. If that makes sense. So thank you, friends. And family. Without you, I would be lost.