Last night in Quito, a 5.1 earthquake shook the airport and put waves in the windows 5 minutes prior to my daughter boarding her flight for home after 6 weeks living in third world community. We got 4 straight hours of story and conversation upon her return, I'm sure the tiniest sample of the experiences that reshaped and returned this incredibly calm, even more independent, present 17 year old being.
A deeper version of herself. The one I've been ready to know.
I'm 100% satisfied with that!
She lived at 12,000 feet with no running water in a community of 250 that had no prior program experience and perhaps doubted the purpose of the program, without major illness (just one episode of food poisoning from eating guinea pig intestines), scabies, peril or tough temptation, unlike most of her fellow volunteers.
There were days she hated it, I am sure. Her initial partner left almost immediately, her replacement partner resented being reassigned where she had to bed in a cheese-making closet.
I can probably never tell this story, her story, in a way that would be agreeable to her. But this I know - mama pride is a given, and I give my kingdom for this and the deeper versions my daughters grow in themselves.
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