flying back home

After 10 days in the US, 2 days in the UK, and 2 weeks in Argentina, I’m now flying home. Despite sounding like I’ve done nothing but work, I’ve also learned to fish (though failed to learn the crucial step - the one that involves actually catching a fish); eaten the equivalent of at least one whole cow, assorted pigs, goats, and other, more unidentifiable, food; seen and photographed wild guanaco; seen a night sky over the Patagonian desert that was so clear that the stars extended almost down to the horizon; spoken less Spanish than I should, but more than I could; and sat at the edge of the Rio Nequén drinking maté. The 28 hours flying time (to Patagonia and back) was worth it. As was the Ambien. And the rug, knives, leather bag, artwork, and other assorted souvenirs essentials that I brought back with me. And although happy that I’m about to see my family again back home, I’m sad to have left behind what feel like my other family, in my other home.