Home over two years now . . . and not if I live to be a hundred will my love for the people of Burkina Faso leave me. More specifically, my love for my life in little Pô . . . and for Yaya and his family . . . and Martin, and little Victorine and Miss Sophie, who must be a young lady by now. I miss it every single day. I try to keep up with Life in Pô through the Peace Corps' Burkina web site and through friends who remain in-country. But the loss and pining are inevitable. My U.S. friends and family must roll their eyes every time I say the word Africa, which is almost a daily occurrence. 

I do keep up with Burkina's national events, such as the decades-long rule of President Compare coming to an abrupt end.  But that's on a country-wide scale. I wonder about little Pô, the chicken/egg farm, the new water well, the boutique at the Maison de la Femme, the tofu empire . There are losses from which one never recovers . . . but one does move forward. I will never forget the love and cultural education given to me by the village of Pô.  I will never forget the generosity of my U.S. friends and readers in their donations to the egg farm. But I like to believe that I'll take with me those intangible and immeasurable gifts into the next chapter of my life. Costa Rica (yes, another third-world Peace Corps country). 

I'm moving to Costa Rica and invite you to FOLLOW OUR JOURNEY in becoming expats in Latin America. Samara is very volunteerism-oriented, so I'm confident that I'll find my way. It won't be Pô; but when God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window. Will Samara and the Ticos become as dear to me as my friends in Pô? We can only speculate.