Being sick abroad makes you wish you were going home. It makes me wish I was home. Last time I was this kind of sick, I lay curled in the belly of an Iowa winter. I cancelled plans in the morning, which would have been cancelled on me an hour later when a snow storm struck fiercely. Or so I was told – I was dead to the world.

Yes, being sick, I want to be at home. But the funniest thing is, I’m struck with thankfulness that, unlike many (almost all, in fact) of my friends here, this is not my last week or two in Korea. Because I would hate to be approaching my last days here, wasting away in bed.

I want to be home, and I’m so glad that, being sick, I’m not going home soon.