After all my esoteric, verbage filled writing yesterday, Lindsay and I walked out of the internet cafe/hotel and the world quickly reminded  what home means.  There on the sidewalk lining the Mekong River which creates the western/southern border of Vientien (the capital of Laos), families strolled on their Sunday evening outing: teenagers rode their motos up and down the boardwalk flirting with one another and gathering in groups like they have a habit of doing all over the world, young children ran around on the playground laughing and making-up games, young adults exercised on the stationary gym equipment or ran in white-clad tennies, and whole families sat down at low tables which lined the sidewalk for a meal at the temporary outdoor cafes, seemingly set-up for just this purpose.

Home is simple, so simple that it’s become a ready-made cliche that’s absolutely perfectly right: home is where the heart is; home is a beer with your wonderful wife on a rooftop bar watching the Laotian sunset, home is a phone call to your dad on father’s day; home is family, friends, laughter, community, love.