It was all a dream...

Now that Thanksgiving has passed, everyone has been referring to the program and our time here as if it was already over. We're watching Christmas movies, old standards that remind us how impossibly removed we are from that physical reality of winter, of Christmas, of family. 

For me, all it does is intensify my homesickness to the point where I am almost living a double life in my head; I'm not really in Thailand... I'm at home, strolling Hawthorn street and drinking a peppermint mocha.

In less than 2 weeks, project time will be over. My group will have gone to Yasothon and produced a report about chemical agriculture and a pamphlet for villagers. Then it will be a solid week of goodbyes. Then my parents will be here.

It's all going go go by so fast. I fear that as soon as I go home it will all feel like a dream, just as my life at in Portland has felt like a dream this entire 4 months. I'll probably lay at home, wrapped in a blanket, trying to recreate in my mind that constant slightly-sweaty feeling, wearing shorts every day and walking  to 7-11 to buy some kanoms. It will probably be just as inconceivable then as cold weather is to me now.