At last I am in Thailand, which I thought would never happen. The long, drawn out, disappointing, heart wrenching departure proved to be well worth it after all. It all began at a birthday party for Darcy on Tuesday, the day I was scheduled to leave. I had to say goodbye to most of my friends/classmates/sisters there, as they were leaving for a bush clinic in some village with the doctors from the hospital. I was fine until about the third hug, then I lost it. In the middle of a nice restaurant I began to weep. Whether it was because of deep sadness over loosing these friends, or great thankfulness for what had just ended, excitement for what was to come, or all of the above, I'll never quite know, as my head was thinking 100 different things. Either way I balled like a small child while the waiters looked on awkwardly, how Indians do. Michaela sang me our theme song through sobs, which proved to be the highlight of my day. (That and the two old men... which comes a bit later.)

After the heart breaking goodbyes I went home and took what I thought was my last bucket shower. I got my bags, said my final goodbyes and took my "last" rickshaw ride to the airport. After saying goodbye to my rickshaw partners, I walked into a rather empty airport to find my airline's desk deserted. The security guard told me to wait. So I waited. And I waited. And I waited. It was getting later, so I checked back. He told me to wait. I did. Finally I decided that this didn't make any sense, so I went investigating. A long story short, my flight had been "re-scheduled". I obviously didn't know anything of the matter. So alas, I was at the airport by myself, no phone number, no money, alone for the first time in 9 months. Tears slowly began to fill my eyes when I realized, "I've delivered 32 babies, I can do this." It was then that a dear security man offered me a ride home. I kindly accepted, seeing it as my only option. My mind jumped from thoughts of gratitude to thoughts of, well, the worst... then, thankfully, back to trust and belief in the goodness of man. As I waited for him to finish his shift I read the book I was supposed to read on the plane, looked down at my watch and realized I should have already been in the air, high over that "frustrating nation."

On the way home, as I drove back seat to to old Indian men, both lecturing me about not having a phone number or money, I began to laugh. India is so beautifully, consistently, difficult. It's amazing actually, how hard everything is. I was actually glad she had proven herself even to the very end. I laughed all the way home, then as I greeted my friends, then as I fell asleep, then again as I woke up to catch my new flight. I ceased however when my paper work I had was not enough for the airline to work with. I needed to have the old ticket, the original, even though the dates were wrong. So, Lisa had to get another rickshaw, after she had just dropped me off, and bring me my old ticket.

After a long, drawn out morning full of surprises, and small difficulties, I finally boarded my 2 hour flight to Sri Lanka. But not before the security guards searched my bags, found my vitamins and told me I need them because I am "looking weak". I didn't fly out of Sri Lanka till the next morning, so I got on a shuttle bus and rode to a hotel that the airport provided for me. I got the front seat in the packed shuttle bus, right by the air conditioning. It was then that I realized, things were really looking up for me. Then, I saw it... the ocean. I hadn't seen it in 6 months. I cried. Then I cried again when I arrived at my hotel to find it on the beach, over looking the ocean. Then I cried again as the waves crashed around my newly "sun kissed" legs. It felt strange to know that these same waters took so many lives a few years ago. The cause of so much pain, and yet so healing to me then. I just sat there, for hours, looking at it. So beautiful, so vast, so refreshing.

Sri Lanka was so lush, so quiet, so spacious. So "not India". I felt like screaming, or dancing, or both. I watched the sunset over the ocean, then walked to my room bare foot, discovered my pale "weak" body sun burnt, and then took a real shower. A real life shower, no bucket or scoop involved. With warm water! And since my room was air conditioned, I actually loved that the water was warm. I just stood there, under this beautiful gift to man kind and let the warm water run down my head and to my feet. Then when I finally felt bad for wasting too much water, I turned around and let it run down my face. I could never tell you how long I was in there, but by the end I had prunes for fingers. At last my conscious got the best of me and I turned off the water. Then I went downstairs, ate a beautiful meal surrounded by white people! I couldn't stop from staring. It has been so long. After my plate was finished and I no longer had an excuse to gawk, I went upstairs and fell asleep under blankets on a real bed. My wake up call was for 5 o'clock this morning. I had yet another hot shower, then went down stairs just in time for sun rise and real coffee, possibly the best two cups I've ever had.
And now I am here. In Thailand. In a place that is flooded with white people, and I feel as though I can not stop staring at all of them. I'm going home... I really am going home. I can hardly believe it...

I feel as though this little trip has been a beautiful illustration of how God turns ashes into beauty, and turns our mourning into dancing. I felt as if I couldn't make it through the difficulties at the airport in Hyderabad. I felt as if I was just too tired, I was done, my grace for the people and for the county had simply run out. I was done. I told Him that. I said I didn't understand. And then He gave me a good laugh about vitamins and Sri Lanka- a gift that blessed me more than words could possibly share with you. He never ceases to amaze me. He is good. He is so good. And I, I my friends, am coming home. Oh my gosh... I am coming home.

(We wore saris to a dinner at one of the doctor's houses... )