You have to deal with different customs, different tastes, different language, different food, different streets, different people, and different differences, and sometimes it just seems altogether too...different.
That's what I was feeling yesterday at the end of my first week in France. I yearned for comfort, for familiarity, for someone who spoke English and someone who loved my country like I did and knew it was Independence Day like I did.
So what a blessing it was when my attention was drawn to my window around 10:45 last night. Fireworks. Someone was setting off fireworks, somewhere a ways away on the beach. I ran to tell my internship partner next door. Then I went back to my spot by the window and watched. I watched, and heard my friend singing softly "America the Beautiful," until they finished and the sky was black again once more.
I was still in a foreign country, but suddenly home was much closer than it had been before.
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