Teri Mi Kasih! (or Thank you!)

I brush the last coat of stain on the most exposed wall of my house. Breathe a huge sigh of relief to be done for the year. They show up around 8pm. As I stuff what seems like the equivalent to the REI range of DEET products and a mini-pharmacy (malaria pills, sepro, antihistamines, immodium for a month), linen shirts, and tank tops into my new orange pack, Cara, Christine, Ben and I eat dinner and drink wine, exchanging travel stories: the good, the bad and the hilarious.

Australian Ben has the best, after living in Indonesia as a civil engineer for 2 years. He teaches me how to say good afternoon, how are you, how to count to 5 and thank you or teri mi kasih (it sounds like: “tear up my car seats”). More importantly he tells us epic stories of bathrooms that leave us in stitches.

Cara takes me to the airport and I thank her for again for doing this. She was right, being dropped off and hugging your little sister as you’re about to step off to a new adventure is much better than a quiet taxi ride with a complete stranger.

Driving through the night-time city, we encourage each other to keep dreaming big, chin up and live life. One more time, I squeeze the little girl I shared a bedroom, fights, dreams, disappointments and play with for the first 18 years of my life, someone who knows me better than most, someone who I'm beginning to realize loves me just the same, someone who’s become one of the most beautiful women, inside and out, that I know. I try to think of a way to put this all in this one hug.