The interview had been surprisingly good up until this point, despite probing questions and brutally honest answers about the realities of living overseas in less-than-secure contexts. In answering these questions, we had relived our three-year history: the joys of teaching, challenges of travel, depressing realities of gender roles abroad, belligerent colleagues, daily strains of paranoia under Watchful Eyes, beautiful friendships, exciting music concerts and performances, nostalgia for home, inspiring visions, feelings of failure, and the final moments of fleeing. We were ragged after 45- minutes worth of sharing. Visceral emotions found release again and were on display - like a spectacle...and we had agreed to it!
And then the final question. It echoed to a new depth in my being, and I began to weigh an honest answer. Was it really worth it? To be pushed to extremes? Living in the blurred middle of "success" and "failure"? Giving life and limb for the mystery? Working to establish "home" for years and leaving it in days? Finding ourselves on the periphery of life in our own country? Was it really worth it?
The answer came out without a final consideration.
"Yes."
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