Broad Daylight

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This morning I woke up, calculated that it was after eleven from my laptop clock, pulled my clothes on and ran downstairs to find the gate locked and the street deserted.  I spent two hours falling asleep again, then did the exact same thing again, except accurately.

I have a friend in Korea I talk with daily, and I can’t keep straight in my mind that she isn’t any longer on the wrong side of the planet.

“Jet lag,” she said, “is a harsh mistress.”

I was never very good at remembering what time it was, always prone to forgetting time differences, daylight savings, transcontinental factors.

This afternoon, I visited my NGO, the place where I worked during my first year here in Cambodia, and saw the kids even taller than last time, the girls all in lipstick and one with new braces.  Everyone seems happier, more settled.  One of the older students asked me for all of the Divergent series, and another told me that his mom had liked the drawing he made in my class, the one “of the lady with her hair like –.”

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