I'll miss you, Caranavi

It is almost time for me to go home. Though the idea of leaving Bolivia is scary, it is also exciting. Everything will be different. Different family, different alone space, different chores, different day to day life, different food, different transportation, different money, different smells, different sounds. There are so many things I will miss, probably more than I realize. Night sounds through open windows (including my dog's weird relaxed grunting), birds in the mornings (especially my black and yellow favorite birds), Bolivian foods (especially aji de postre and fruit juices), walking to work (straight up a hill, my legs are getting nice and toned), mountian views (is there any better place to spend time with God?), afternoon breezes, watching sunsets from the hammock, washing floors with soap and a bucket of water, doing laundry by hand listening to Greg Boyd podcasts, having school with the Krafts, playing with the Casa kids, hearing, speaking, and learning Spanish. Vero. Charo. Chachi. CEC. So much.
As I write, at least three almost invisible bugs fly with their high-pitched buzzing around my head, a nightly occurrence. That will change soon. I suppose I will miss you, too, little buzzers, but only theoretically.