Last night’s party did not disappoint. When I say party, I really mean a handful of the housemates sitting in the garden laughing at each others sporadic dance moves (my coffee grinder and the Italian’s moon walk, for example) and enjoying the fresh air and cheerful company. For a hefty price you can view said dance moves as it was all captured on our security cameras, which I forgot about.

My housemates make fun of me a little bit for writing this blog every day. But they have also been really supportive. It’s kind of awkward though, when the phone gets passed around so everyone can read it while you’re sitting there. I think I prefer not knowing whether they have read it or not. What if they aren’t impressed, or worse, it stinks? I don’t say anything in the blog that I haven’t already said out loud. I think it means more though, when you put it on paper for the world to see. Ultimately you’re saying, “This is important to me. Please like it, please like me.”

After reading one of the blogs for the first time last night, a colleague made a comment that I thought was very profound. Along with warning me not to let the blog become too egocentric he said,

“Now let your character match the person who wrote this.”

Thank you, O sage one.

A few drinks in, the conversation turned to secret insecurities. Turns out none of us are completely confident that we can do what we’ve been hired to do. Which makes sense, because they don’t teach you this stuff in school (unless you went to Tufts or some other specialized program, which I didn’t). The lucky ones are those of us who get to work in a team, to bounce ideas off each other and affirm that indeed, we are not crazy (unless of course your teammate is ornery or just plain horrible, in which case they may be driving you to the loony bin).

I am lucky to have such great colleagues who are both hilarious (despite being a bit morbid) and competent. Who wouldn’t want to sit around the table with some of the most passionate, bold, intelligent people in the world? Each one bringing their unique flavor to the way we do life together. Granted, half the time I can’t understand their accents, but that’s ok, there is always someone to translate!

Tonight we will gather again, this time with friends from another agency. We will listen to mostly the same songs, rock the same dance moves. Again, we’ll swap jokes and stories from other missions, and nothing will shock us. We will listen and nod, and without realizing it, we will be grateful for these other human beings on this journey we call humanitarian aid work. Because, despite our differences, we are family.

On Sunday, when we are back to work and nothing seems to be working and I am tempted to get angry with one of them, I will remember how much they made me laugh on Friday night and smile to myself. I will take a deep breath and remind myself, it’s only 4 days until Thursday – when I’m going HOME!

See you in a week California!