Rain

It just rained for the first time in four months. It was wonderful! I stood on my terrace and was reminded of why I love Indian rain. It is warm, not cold. It pours at a slant and soaks you in one minute. The sound of thunder echoes in the sky several times a minute and the lightning is magnificent. It is the veins of the sky, encouraging the thunder and the rain.
I was standing there, soaked, when three green and orange parrots flew in a straight line in front of me. It was beautiful.
In three weeks I will leave India, my family and my home. I am scared to go back to Portland. I know it will be different than I imagine and I will realize that no one will have had the same experiences as me. No one will fully understand it. I know I will be frustrated, and sometimes mad and annoyed but I wouldn't take back this year for anything.
That is why exchange is kind of like rain. It is different in all parts of the world. It has it's thunder and it's lightning. Sometimes it sprinkles and sometimes it pours. And when you are soaked, there comes a silver lining. Something that makes you smile, and you appreciate the rain. You appreciate the thing that makes you irritated and mad. You love it with all your heart because you know that there will never again be the same exact storm.