Landing in the Desert

As I stared out the small window to the land below, I soaked in the trees and grass, a sign of water, knowing my journey was taking me to a place where this was a rarity. I knew life in the desert would be difficult, but in those moments as we flew to my destination, I had no idea the desert would become a part of me.

The first time I landed in the desert, I found myself staring, mouth wide open, at the vast nothingness I could see for miles. I’m from one of the most beautiful valleys in the US where hikers come from all over to gaze on its beauty from atop the surrounding mountains. Quaint plantations dot the view separated by rivers and streams that sparkle in the sunshine. Truly it is “God’s country.”

Now, though, I am landing in a desolate wasteland where everything is a different shade of brown. I began to wonder exactly what I had gotten myself into when I decided to move to this place. The May day was stiflingly hot with no thought of respite. My culturally appropriate clothing was sticking to me before I even left the airport. But, turning my face toward the exit with all my luggage in tow, I was determined to make it here. This was to be my new home and the place to which I was called. I could do this. Sure, no problem. Now, just to figure out where to live…

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