Stress... what´s that?

Oh, but yes, I am in fact stressed by the amount of crap I have to do in the next 48 hours. Just so you can share in my distress...

1. Laundry. Easy, right? Wrong. We are currently experiencing a no water situation, and I have got to get my clothes washed by tonight or tomorrow at the latest if they are to dry in time for me to pack. And that´s assuming it doesn´t rain...
2. Pack. Easy, right? See laundry situation.
3. Plan for 2 more days worth of English class. Which, by the way, I am loving. Thank goodness.
4. Say goodbye to friends and host family. Goodbyes are awkward.
5. Plan my travels for the next 3 weeks. Or at least, for this coming weekend. It´s looking like the new volunteer Caroline will be travelling with me to Isla de Ometepe this weekend, after which we will probably go our separate ways. It will be nice to have a travel buddy to start out with, but this means we actually have to plan something so everything doesn´t fall through.

Oh, and I need to get home soon to watch the funeral procession go past my house. 2 (important) locals have died within the past week, which means the neighbors come out in droves to go to the funeral and watch the processions. There are also trucks with speakers mounted on them driving through the streets at literally all hours, announcing who has died and the time and place of their funeral. I hope I receive the same recognition when I pass. If anyone wants to loudly announce my death through their PA system at 4 a.m., I wouldn´t be opposed.

I am excited to start travelling, but I almost don´t want to leave at this point. I´ve really started enjoying my work, and my host family, and the city in general. It´s going to be bittersweet to leave for sure. Apparently on Sunday when I was wandering the city with my "cousin" some other "cousins" came over to see if I wanted to join their dance party in the other house. Even small invitations like that mean so much to me, and recently I have been noticing how blessed I´ve been with kind people here. Like I have said before, Granada is small enough that there don´t really seem to be any secrets or strangers after awhile. I see people I know everywhere and I recognize a lot of locals around town. My extended host family, fellow volunteers and Nica employees, kids from the school and daycare, as well as "schizo painter guy", "crazy eye mango lady", "drag queens", "guy with 1 leg", "guy who owns the pool hall", "old man who always says hi", "the guard at the rich people´s house", "that guy who delivers tortillas" and probably a half dozen others have formed my experiences here much more than anything I have done.

Enough reminiscing. I have a funeral procession to get to and clothing to wash.