And So It Goes

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end...
- Semisonic, "Closing Time"

Life is full of new beginnings. That is sometimes a very reassuring thing; I appreciate adventure and newness and the chance to start over and try again. But beginning again always means saying goodbye to an important part of your life, like BELL. I didn't realize how much BELL was my home until I was uprooted. It's been eight months since I spent more than a few days in a house in a city. It's been eight months of stargazing and sunsets and fieldwork and fun. Why would I want to leave?

When I left this afternoon, I left behind an empty shell of what used to be. Haffenreffer was deserted: no kids, no tents, no hammocks, only footprints in the marsh as a reminder of the last inhabitants. The lodge was cleared of tables and carpets and posters and fridges and couches. Our bookshelves were gone. The snacks were gone. The tents had been taken down, beds disassembled, mattresses stacked and stored, and computers given back to their rightful owners--my laptop is finally only mine again. But you know what? It feels weird having a computer to myself. It feels extravagant.

When I left Brown in December, I knew I would have a long road of transitions ahead of me. I had to adjust to life in Africa, and those four months were pretty much constant culture shock. Then I had to readjust to life in America. Then I had to adjust to BELL. And now I adjust to life without BELL. I have to readjust to life at university.

My adventures over the last few days have included:

• a staff-only hands-free watermelon eating contest. Kevin and Fraser won, but we all ended up with watermelon in our noses. Kevin had watermelon in his hair, too.
• dinner (no chicken breasts or kidney beans, finally!!) at a Portugese restaurant
• making smores in the fireplace at Haffenreffer while discussing "True Love" by Thich Naht Han
• a picnic at sunset on the beach in Newport
• getting Natalie stuck in a collapsed tent (I was laughing too hard to pull her out)
• stargazing with Rod at Haffenreffer: did you know that Saggitarius could also be looked at as a teapot? do you know how to tell time using Polaris?
• watching Fall River's giant V-J Day firework show
• watching the sunrise at 5:15 a.m. over Mount Hope Bay

Why can't life always be this much fun?! And why do all these new beginnings require such homesickening transitions? I miss my family of BELL staff. I miss my 98 BELL students. I miss Haffenreffer. I'm tired of readjusting, and I just want to be home, wherever that may be.