I had a dream last night… I was going back to Ohio for Christmas. Only somehow, the leaders for my trip to Africa 4 years ago were organizing it all. I was told I cold come back to Japan after Christmas, or somehow I believed I could, but when I got to the States, somehow I was forced into starting school again. At first this didn’t bother me, but after a day or two of classes, I realized that it was all in place to keep me from returning to Japan. I was devastated. Though it seemed that none of my team had any intention of returning, I felt I was being held captive, kept from being where my heart knew I needed to be. I remember weeping over and over in my dream—trying to accept my situation, adjust to American life again, but I was repeatedly washed over by memories of a “home” to which I was being kept from returning. I remembered specific students who I wanted to see, friends I wanted to spend time with, things I wanted to convey to those whom I loved in that quaint, close-knit town nestled in the rice fields. I just kept weeping… It all seemed so real. Vivid, and almost tragic. What disturbed me is that when I woke up, I realized, though somewhat altered, the situations in the dream really are real. And so are the faces, vaguely haunting, of students, teachers, friends…