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Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace With MarriageOne night IБЂ™d eavesdropped while a handful of monks sang Bob Marley songs to each other underneath a tree in a temple garden, long after they should have been asleep. IБЂ™d even seen a knot of barely adolescent novices kickboxing each other-a display of good-БЂ‹natured competition that, like boysБЂ™ games all over the world, carried the threat of turning truly violent at a momentБЂ™s notice. But I was most surprised by an incident I witnessed one afternoon in the small, dark Internet cafe in Luang Prabang, where Felipe and I would spend several hours a day checking e-БЂ‹mails and communicating with our families and our immigration lawyer. I often came to this Internet cafe alone, too. When Felipe wasnБЂ™t with me, I would use the computers to scan real estate notices back home, looking at houses around the Philadelphia area. I was feeling-more than I had ever felt in my life, or maybe even for the first time in my life-homesick. As in: sick for a home. I longed like mad for a house, an address, a small private location of our own ...» |
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