Goodbyes

Malawi Style Sangria

Ingrediants
1 jug of Taverna (the cheapest wine in Malawi that doesn't come in a box)
1 two liter bottle of Mountain Dew/Sprite/any other soft drink with a lemon-lime twist idea
1 flask of brandy
Lots of apples, pineapples, bananas and strawberries. (WASH the strawberries!!!!! Thoroughly!!! A tiny bit of Waterguard wouldn't hurt. If you don't know what they do to strawberries here let me just say it involves the river by the clothing market and leave it at that.)

Instructions
Step One: Convince your boss that it would be a good idea to let the group that is leaving (and thus has nothing to lose) come over to his house to have a goodbye party.
Step Two: In a subsequent conversation convince him that having alcohol at this party makes it classy.
Step Three: Chop the fruit, while listening to music on an iPod and talking about all the good times you've had in Malawi. Try not to cry. If a few tears escape, say something about onions.
Step Four: Mix all liquid ingredients. Add fruit. Put the sangria away to chill in one of the three fridges available.

This past week all those from my group who took the option to leave early went back to America. Fortunately, I was able to get on medical hold because I need to have (another) full checkup before I can be cleared to extend. So, with only a little bit of payment in poking and prodding and pain, I was able to stay in Lilongwe all week to say goodbye.
I’ve had a few major goodbyes before in my life (a very few, actually), and I’ve come to the conclusion that it is just plain difficult to move from one stage of life to another, and to try to say goodbye to everyone who’s been with you along the way. Of the three times I’ve gone through similar experiences though, I have to say this one was the hardest.
Still, we tried to make it as pleasant as we could. One morning we had a brunch (with bacon!!! Real bacon!!!!) One evening we went out to jazz at a local mall complex. We got to sit on the grass, to watch children playing, to see dogs frolicking, to have some good hookah, to chat. We had a dinner at our program director's house with kebabs and pasta salad and a two-layer chocolate orange cake and sangria and no one getting drunk (although that might be because dixie-cups make for very small serving sizes.)
Overall it was incredibly pleasant. Every activity was low key, we all got to talk and bond and reminisce, it was wonderful. And then, in the end, people went back home. See, the reality of all those times when you mark the passing of an era, or a moving away, is that no matter how fun or symbolic you make the events surrounding it (bacon, real bacon, double layer chocolate cake!!) the fact is that people are still leaving, and that's always going to hurt. No matter how much you sweeten it, it’s always hard to say goodbye, to think about all the time ahead that will pass before you see people again. I guess the only thing one can really take comfort in, after all of that, is having made friends good enough to miss. And I will miss all of them, quite a lot.