somewhere in between

To our dear family and friends,

So here we are in the Capitol City, awaiting a word from the Peace Corps regarding the what and the where and the who and the when of our coming service. There are rumors of autumn emerging from golden leaves and the smell of pumpkin spice. And with the fall comes a time of change and transition. Students begin new schoolyears to the smell of new erasers and highlighter ink, just waiting for the first opportunity to bust out that new number 2. Painting here and there, substitute teaching here and there, reading the news and planting gardens; we are filling the void in the middle between what was our American life and what will be our life in some darkly lit corner of Latin America. And while we wait, the Sacramento grind whirls about us in a flurry of commuters and businessmen, emo kids and coffee drinkers. The middle is not the worst place to be, because you know where you must and will go, but you still linger between expectation and memory, trying furiously to live your life today. Or at least we are trying...