I miss the view from my window. I miss sitting on my bed and watching the cars drive along the roads way up in the hills, looking so tiny.
I miss eating yogurt and cereal and toasted ciabatta for breakfast. I miss eating breakfast together with Ricky and Tracie in the kitchen every morning, sitting around the table, with the pretty Peruvian placemats. I miss the Peruvian chocolate milk. I miss the fresh maracuya juice. I miss washing dishes after meals and looking out the kitchen window.
I miss hanging my clothes up on a line after washing them, and hoping it wouldn't rain until they were dry.
I miss walking everywhere. I miss everywhere I need to go being in walking distance. I miss having the time to walk to where I need to be.
I miss Tracie's lomo saltado, and aji de gallina, and chicken fettuccini alfredo, and Chilean salads. and chicken and fries at that restaurant! oh my gosh, that was the best chicken and fries of my life!
I miss seeing women with babies on their backs everywhere. I wish I had learned how they tie them on the way they do.
I miss watching the Chilean telenovela "Cómplices" with the white guy who was posing as a Latin man and he would speak Spanish like a gringo and somehow had everyone fooled. Oh man, he was hilarious! And then Ricky would immitate him, and it made me laugh so much!
I miss nescafé.
Why is it that when you're gone from home you can't wait to get back, and when you're home again, it doesn't feel the same anymore? And why is it so hard to talk about those months that changed me?