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Writing over the course of our Philippine visit proved impracticable. We didn’t just have sporadic access to the internet; we had sporadic access to electrical outlets and even our laptops, which got shuffled around as much to avoid theft as to perform their jobs as computers. But we’re home, safe if not sound—jet lag and possibly intestinal bugs are taking their toll—and it’s past time to begin writing again.

I don’t even know where to begin. There is much to report on odd moments in Manila, but starting tomorrow I’ll begin my student teaching as well, not to mention news events occurring in my absence. No doubt this journal will reflect the dislocations to my obsessively cultivated routine for some time to come.

Which, for all my anxiety over disruptions to routine, is surely good and healthy. Life feels rather crazy right now, but there is no growth without change, and if you aren’t growing, you’re dying. I wish I could be confident the stress of it weren’t contributing to the considerable discomforts of settling back home.

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