moral of the story?
So I was thinking (and this was on a very timid, barely dipping my toes in the potential philosophical depth involved sort of level) that I can't determine if I've ever truly applied the "life lessons" I'm supposed to have learned from my past experiences. In particular when I lived in Dominica as a member of the priviledged class by local standards (underpriviledged by our standards here) and life was much simpler, I vowed to never take for granted all the luxuries I'd become accustomed to in the States after we moved back. For instance fresh milk is widely available and apples aren't 5 dollars a piece. Where the hell did my honest appreciation for dairy go? Where is my appreciation for the (relatively) high quality education I'm receiving? My appreciation for my basic human rights?
I feel like the only thing I've really become grateful for after 8 years is the apparent lack of three inch flying cockroaches in Ohio. (Well, I'm also glad that they don't slaughter a fresh goat at ASID meetings).
Sometimes I think I'd like to go back and walk the ashy, pebbly beaches again while 80 year old men hiss and 8 year old boys try to sell me koolaid for 10 bucks. Then I return to sanity and decide that the only thing I'd really like to return to Dominica for is to get all my shit back from Adella. Maybe try to resummon my faith at the Berean Bible Church since God is all there is to focus your attention on in a decidedly non-capitalist country.
Am I really the same person who went to all those places and did all those things?
A customer asked me today how I ended up in Ohio of all places and all I could say was that I just kind of drifted upstream.