We arrived in Boston yesterday, where I was warmly welcomed with an extra thorough rummaging through my personal belongings by an inquisitive customs officer (as if there is any other kind?). Thankfully the smell of my filthy clothes and red-dust saturated bag must have deterred the officer from digging through the layers of well-used black plastic bags, so I did not need to explain why I was carrying half a dozen slingshots, pepper spray, and my trusty leatherman. Somewhat disappointed, because I already had a very plausible explanation prepared, "Monkeys sir, yes, monkeys. Dangerous, malicious, purse-snatching monkeys are only repelled by slingshots, and the really big ones require an extra shot of mace." The leatherman is obviously for mangoes and opening Fan milk sachets, no explanation needed there.
Now sitting in Boston airport again, Terminal B is pretty slow, so I found myself a good burger and Sam Adam's beer to sip on while I wait. Going home at the end of a trip I always have mixed feelings; sad that the trip is over, happy to be back in my own comfy bed, sad that the work week begins on Monday, and happy to be back in my home, with a garden to start and the mountains in my "backyard". :)
This trip, much like most of my travels, was one bus ride after another, running from one bush taxi to another, meeting new friends along the way, sharing stories through laughter & tears with old friends, and wondering when and where I'll connect with new friends and old next along the road.
Until next time, ciao!
I love it..."the leatherman is obviously for mangoes and opening Fan mild sachets!" :)
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