Going Home

Driving in the dark across the bridge into Durán my eyes search around for any familiar sights. My memory is working overtime recognizing the humid slightly fishy smell off the river, hearing the honk as cars pass the van, and feeling my head hit the ceiling as we roll over a speed bump.

Then my eyes see a stop light. My brain reacts, surely I must be mistaken, a stop light in Durán? Then as if to confirm the first sighting, we pass another stoplight and then even more surprisingly continue on paved roads into Arbolito. Now my head begins to panic; this isn't the Arbolito I know and love. Where are the cane houses? Where are the big puddles of sitting water and our friends from the corner? Then my heart begins to agonize, what if Durán isn't what I remember? What if the people aren't the same? However, as we settle into the house the familiar sounds of barking dogs and crowing roosters lulls me to sleep.

Unaccustomed to the December heat, the room becomes uncomfortably hot as the sun peaks around the curtains. I rise and find the house quiet as the rest of the group sleeps. Stepping outside, my eyes again scan
for familiarity. Abram's house has a second floor, Freddy and Diana's old house is off the slits, in the distance I can see Patricia's house is cement; very few things look the same. However this time, my heart
and head are calm for as I walk out the house I am simultaneously greeted by Eduardo's familiar hug and Cristian waving on his way to the river.

In that moment in my heart I realize what will become a theme throughout my ten days back in Ecuador. What I love about Ecuador has nothing to do with the roads, the houses, or even work sites; instead
it has everything to do with the people and the spirit. My time in Ecuador as a volunteer and now as retreat leader was not and is not about infrastructure, development, or even anything tangible. It was
and is about spirit, love, and family in the most basic and human way. Five years after I first came to Ecuador, returning this time felt like going home. I was able to go home to the laughter of Ginger,
Allison, and Allan, to Glenda's hugs, and to Aide's challenging conversations. True the home looked nothing like I remembered, but it felt that same and that is the most important aspect of home.

A reflection written by former volunteer Meredith Dean ('03-'04) returning to Duran as a retreat group leader with Depaul.