Bittersweet.

As I get closer and closer to the end of my service in South Africa, each day brings new emotions that can only be summarized by one of my favorite words: bittersweet. The last couple of weeks have really made my quickly approaching end date hit hard. Maybe it’s because two of my closest volunteers are leaving in December, maybe it’s end-of-the-year melancholy, or maybe it’s because my friends and coworkers have just acknowledged that I’m not staying in South Africa much longer (or as they wish, forever).

The last month or so I have been getting antsy to leave. My programs are finishing up, I’m passing projects to local counterparts, and I find myself with less to do.  I’m excited to travel for a couple of months and then to get a job (hopefully!) in the States. I’m ready to stop my nomad ways and be home with friends and family.  Leaving seemed so sweet.

Then, last week, the winds shifted.  All of a sudden I couldn’t imagine having to leave in December. My friends and counterparts started expressing to me how much I have made a difference and how many good things I have brought to the village. (It seemed I waited two years for this vote of confidence and thank you).  Parents wanted to make sure I warned them at least a month in advance before leaving.  Friends said they couldn’t say goodbye because they would cry.  I tried to treasure the painting-esque views, watching the storms come my way down the valley, knowing I’d miss it. I cherished the kids running after me on my daily runs, laughing hysterically because it really is that funny to run with a white girl. Mostly, I tried to imagine how I would say goodbye to the family, my family, which made it clear from day one that I belonged. How to say a goodbye that, unlike most, seems so definite. Leaving seemed so bitter.

Luckily, I still have about four more months in South Africa to treasure the place and the people I have come to love.  I plan to spend my last months just loving everything and soaking it in, not worrying about anything else. One thing is for certain, though, leaving is always bittersweet.