I’ve said a lot of goodbyes in the last month and a half.

December 20 was the day our program officially ended. Most of the students left on the 20th and most of the students leaving took the 2 a.m. flight to Dulles. Some took the 3:55 a.m. flight to JFK. Others made connections in Paris, Madrid, or other European cities. So, on December 19 at 10 p.m., a large group of toubabs and our friends/families gathered at the Ouakam bus terminus to see off some CIEE students. As scheduling isn’t as important a value in Senegal as it is in the U.S., the bus to pick the students up didn’t run on a tight schedule. They picked up the students in Mermoz at 10, then they went to Sacre Coeur 3, and the last pick-up was Ouakam. So we waited until just after 11 p.m., when the bus we all remember so well—from the rainy days of orientation to the sweaty excursions to Toubab Dialow or Saint Lous—came down the street, almost full with the other students.

There were a few sobs and some teary laughs, and it felt so weird that it was already over. I don’t think any of us students were crying for ourselves; we knew it would be easy to talk to each other, to see each other again. The tears were for family, friends, and the place we’ve come to call home. How were we leaving so soon?

People shook hands and hugged, and I told everyone, “No goodbyes. Just leegi-leegi (see you later).” The luggage was loaded, the students were on, and the bus drove off.

A week and a half later, I said leegi-leegi to my family, friends, and where I’ve come to call home. I was a mess for the last two days. Even if there hadn’t been the Gambian ordeal [to be posted on later], I still would have been a mess.

In the week between getting back and flying to China, I saw and sent off several friends. A few of my friends were going abroad, a few back to school. I hadn’t seen them in at least 4.5 months but the weirdest thing about being back was that it was completely normal.

What was unfamiliar was my week in China. I had never been back under that circumstance and I’ve spent 16 years away from that climate (-30 C where I was. Yeah. That’s cold.) It had been three years since I had been back and with traveling I was only with my family for four days. Such a short time to spend and then say goodbye to the members of my family for who-knows-how-long—one I said goodbye to for good.

The week at home before going back to Wellesley felt a little strange. Emily visited for two days before spending a week in London and ultimately heading to Morocco for the semester. It was good to see her as I hadn’t since May. But dropping her off at the train station on Friday brought back strange memories from hugging her goodbye at 5 a.m. in the middle of finals week last year. As she left the door with her suitcases, I climbed back into bed thinking about how weird it was we weren’t going to see each other for at least a summer and a semester. When she got on the train I felt like we were living that moment again.

Classes started Tuesday last week. I arrived on campus Sunday night/Monday morning, just after midnight. I didn’t start driving until 6 p.m. I said goodbye to the back of my brother’s and sister’s heads as they were fooling around on the computer. My mom practically shoved me out the door. “You’re not leaving yet?” she asked. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll see you in some amount of time.”

I don’t think I’ve said goodbye (or see you later) to so many people in such a short period of time as I have in the past six weeks.