Africa: I Miss It

"When I think of home, I think of a place where there's love overflowing.
I wish I was home, I wish I was back there with the things I've been knowing..."

I've said it before and I'll say it again; Africa feels like home to me.  I miss it so SO much; it is killing me that I am not there right now.  If someone offered me a one-way ticket to Ghana today, I would take it.
I have been home for about two and a half months now.  That must be how long it takes for me to register homesickness, cuz I'm really feelin' it now.

Here is what I miss most:
- the simple, unshakable faith of the people there
- the smiles
- the children (oh, my heart!!!)
- the drums and the dancing
- my mission team

Here is what I still don't miss:
- rice and red sauce
- latrines
- exhaust fumes

What I wouldn't give for the chance to go back to Dafor and visit the little school they have there, to hear the kids yell "Sistah Jen!" as they pull on my arms and clothes.  How I would love to hoist a headpan of cement onto my headcloth and work to finish that church!  What a joy it would be to to hear another of Fada's homilies, so penetrating and life-giving because of their deep simplicity!  How I miss those old ladies who tried to teach us Ewe and laughed at us every morning after Mass, those Mamas who were quite obviously the backbones of the village community, and those workmen who spoke to us in squeaky voices.  Hahaha and the finger snapping handshakes... I miss those.

I must go back to Africa.  I don't know when or how, but I must.  I have already been away from home for too long.