We ended Jamaica with a splash, enjoying a day of Cliff jumping and fun. I've told myself that I will not struggle in leaving, that I won't cry like others say they will. Yet, as we begin to pack our bags this little sinking feeling has begun to form deep in my stomach. The same feeling I felt when I left my home for the last time in May. The same feeling when we were driven from the Salvation Army in New York to the airport. And now- that same feeling as we begin to say our goodbyes. A feeling of sadness, mixed with a little anxiety but above all the desire to stay "just a little longer." I have learned that when you let down the barriers of "us" and "them"- relationships begin to form and pretty soon a place that felt so foreign now feels like home. I'm going to miss long talks on the back porch with my host brother Biggs. The long and dreaded hike of Rich man hill and the many times slipping in the rain. I'm going to...