Two days out from camp, thought I was doing ok, I thought it might be different this time, holding it altogether not feeling much apart from missing my fellow volunteers a lot.
Then I got on the plane, realised I was actually leaving our refugee friends behind in all that uncertainty, and so it begins, the bitter sweet feelings, the joy of being home and the sadness of what we have left behind, the guilty feelings, the reminders of who I have left behind, yet the reassurance that there are already willing and able volunteers that have already made the trip to replace us that have now left.
These feelings will be with me now for months, every meal served, every toy I see, every cheeky kid, every library book.
Uncomfortable flashbacks and treasured memories of new friendships, and an overwhelming feeling of the need to return to carry on the work.
