Today as I was walking in Huaraz, a lady was working in her garden and as I passed I got a big whiff of soil. Upon smelling it, I missed Yachats, which always smells of ocean, pine trees, dirt, and earth. Dirt smells like sustenance, nourishment, vitamin and mineral, potential, and growth. Sometimes I wonder how much longer I'll really keep traveling, if I'll make it to December, or if I'll feel pulled to come home sooner. For now, there are only small tugs, and I feel that I still have work to do here, in the present, where I am. Which is South America.
Taking off for Trujillo tonight. I've been looking into free volunteer opportunities, so we'll see what comes of it. I would love to work with kids, even though lately even the sight of a cute kid is enough to make me weepy. What's this all about?
Filling out a Peace Corp application.