Spent our last day at Los Cedros(The orphanage up to age 7), playing with the kids, planting 15 trees (while doing so saw a tarantula), and finished the day with a trip to the Pacific ocean. We were joined by some of the teenage boys and little ones who live at the orphanage. Beautiful baptisms took place there. Laying on the hammocks, listening to the sound of Spanish, the ice cream cart and the downpour of rain I realized how much I loved where I was. It's not necessarily the country I fallen in love with (although I love Nica), it's the atmosphere, the hope, the joy, the peace and even the humidity and heat. I love the sound of rain more than ever now, it reminds me of Nicaragua. We headed back to the orphanage, spent more time with the kids and had the best carrot salsa. Leaving was harder than I expected, I barely knew the kids there, and I knew they were in wonderful care... but it was still hard. I realized that this for me was not a 'Break my heart, God' trip. This trip only assured me that this place, this broken and beautiful place was where I belonged. Maybe not this country, but this different culture. This place overflowing with beauty.
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