The week tiled floors changed my life.

I spent my last week in my third to last major training during my service as a Peace Corps volunteer. We were back to nine-hour work days, this time followed by nights drinking Beninoise and swimming in the hotel pool.

All last week, my feet were clean, I was living in a climate-controlled environment and I had daily access to real milk for the first time in five months. 

This week was the longest amount of time I had forgotten I live in Benin.

The classic line is that an experience like this is supposed to change what you value. Supposed to make you appreciate what you have so much more.

I used to think lines like those were bullshit. Until I freaked out at what was essentially the Fairfield Inn my family stays at when we visit family in the suburbs of St. Louis. (The first things that my roommate and I did after we checked into the hotel in Parakou were blast the air conditioning, plug in the mini-fridge and jump on the king-sized bed, in that order.)

After another 22 months in my world where a good day is marked by being able to get my hands on cold water, I’ll be back in that world 24/7. I’ll be the one at the airport sitting on the floor in awe of the food court.