Remainders of Tchad

It's true that most of the habits I made while living in Tchad last year have faded. I no longer take a deep sigh of relief after having a swig of cold water. I no longer am surprised that my feet are clean. I enjoy putting on jewelry or make up or dressing nice from time to time. But there are still a few lingering habits that I can't quite seem to shake.

Every time I unplug something from an electric outlet I expect a shock.

I still prefer studying/reading/writing to headlamp light while lying in bed in a dark room (like all of those nights I wrote in that journal...wow, I can't even count how many times).

I enjoy hot breakfast cereal with peanut butter, sugar, and lime to flavor (though here it is oatmeal rather than rice)

I still hate chickens more than words can express. Thankfully I don't have to deal with them everyday.

I am always cold in relation to the blazing heat I was used to.

I miss it. I watched a video of Papa pretending to be Jackie Chan the other day. And my eyes welled with tears. I miss him. Boy, do I miss Tchad right now.