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I suppose it's time.

I've been avoiding writing this one last post out of denial—if I write it, it means it's true. It means the year is over, Africa is over, and the "real" world is real again.

But, these last two weeks have forced itself upon my psyche, with a stubbornness surpassing that of Macarthur's promise to the Philippines. The real world has returned. And it bears a striking resemblance to what it was when I left.

It is strange to think that, just twelve days ago, I was sitting on a ramshackle dock in an impoverished country in West Africa, debating whether the rainy season had actually started or whether it was just being coy. People warned that returning to the west would make you feel like what had happened to you in Africa was just a dream.

And it's true. It's amazing how easy it is to slip back into western culture, to slip back into home. But it's home, redefined, and it's western culture seen through a pair of changed lenses.

Here's hoping those lenses remain changed.