The other week, one of my best friends got married. A couple of weeks from now, one of my guy best friends is tying the knot as well. In between these celebrations was the death and burial of a surrogate mother, my best friend's mom.
Due to my two months R&R cycle, I cannot just up and leave my work when such events happen. Also, my hands are full rolling out nutrition interventions to answer the alarmingly high GAM rate-the highest GAM in South Sudan right now.
My friends think aid work is a fun job. I can't blame them. I and my colleagues often post photos of the new places we travel to as well as our exotic cultural experiences almost every other month. On top of this, we are saving lives.
However, I feel like aid work is a lonely job sometimes. Although I have colleagues to hang out with, at the end of the day, they are not my blood family. I miss eating my comfort food or speaking my own mother tongue. I crave doing things without thinking about what its cultural and social implications could be.
The place where I am in right now may be the most comfortable in the area (a stone house with a mattress to sleep on and AC while 95% of the population sleep on the ground in mud huts) but it does not provide me half of the comfort of home.
When I am in the Philippines though, I oftentimes feel left out when I am with my circle of friends. There are a lot of inside jokes and references I do not get, simply because I have never experienced it with them or I do not even know what is happening in their daily lives as well as what is happening in my country.
Where is home really?
Due to my two months R&R cycle, I cannot just up and leave my work when such events happen. Also, my hands are full rolling out nutrition interventions to answer the alarmingly high GAM rate-the highest GAM in South Sudan right now.
My friends think aid work is a fun job. I can't blame them. I and my colleagues often post photos of the new places we travel to as well as our exotic cultural experiences almost every other month. On top of this, we are saving lives.
However, I feel like aid work is a lonely job sometimes. Although I have colleagues to hang out with, at the end of the day, they are not my blood family. I miss eating my comfort food or speaking my own mother tongue. I crave doing things without thinking about what its cultural and social implications could be.
The place where I am in right now may be the most comfortable in the area (a stone house with a mattress to sleep on and AC while 95% of the population sleep on the ground in mud huts) but it does not provide me half of the comfort of home.
When I am in the Philippines though, I oftentimes feel left out when I am with my circle of friends. There are a lot of inside jokes and references I do not get, simply because I have never experienced it with them or I do not even know what is happening in their daily lives as well as what is happening in my country.
Where is home really?
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