i was there for only one week. in the evenings, after we worked at the orphanage or homeless shelter or the two room elementary school, there was no computer, no movies - just books, card games, notebooks, and a small group of people. eventually, i would take a lukewarm shower, wash away the day's grime, and my feet would be dirty again by the time i had walked back to my room. i would sleep on a mattress on the floor with the sounds of a hundred barking dogs and people yelling and party music floating through the open window. it was always hot and dusty, always sad. i was immersed in the culture of one of the poorest nations in this part of the world.

now i am home, sitting at a computer, a day of classes and meetings and running around behind me. today, i drove from place to place, spent a $1.75 on a coke and a bag of doritos between classes because this is pocket change for me and i don't even think about it. i'm sitting in a climate-controlled room, about to step into a hot, clean shower. in the next room my best friend is sitting at the kitchen table reading, where his cabinets are full of food.

and i feel displaced.

[ bob marley ]