Palabra del dia: despertar --> to awake
Am I avoiding homework? Well, claro que si! But I have good reason.
I'm sitting in Starbucks (to get away from the dorm for a while) doing homework. This guy comes and sits down in the seat next to me. I've been here for probably about an hour, in this seat at least, and I just introduced myself to him. I wanted to find out where he's from, because he is obviously not from America. He's from Ethiopia. We didn't have a long extensive conversation, but we chatted about school, America, Europe, the usual. But it's probably the highlight of my day.
Everytime I talk with someone about going overseas, or talk to someone foreign, I feel like my heart is being reawakened. I am almost put back in Europe, where I would meet foreigners everyday. The mix of people and the intense amount of diversity made me feel alive. I absolutely love talking with people about their countries, lives, language, and whatever else it is that differs from my seemingly normal American life. It's incredible to me that people who are so different than me have this effect on me, but I'm beginning to think it's for a reason. I'm pretty sure I'm onto something here...
On another note, I had the opportunity to talk to a close friend of mine that I haven't seen in about 10 months the other day. She studied in Granada a year before me. Talking with her made me remember that my experience there was real. She validated all the feelings I have felt for the past 4 1/2 months about missing Granada, confusion about who I am now, and how to move forward. It's like she is reading my mind, literally. I think she might be the only person in America that truely understands how I feel. And I'm extremely thankful for her.
Back to homework I suppose. Que aburrido!!
11 October 2009
08 October 2009
Un agujero en mi corazon
Palabra del dia: extrañar --> to miss
When I woke up this morning, it was raining. Not a hard rain, but a mist, with cloudy skies. I checked the temperature for today-- 55 degrees. First actual cold day of the season. This meant only one thing: no dress today. So I pulled out a turtleneck and my boots to make me feel sassy. The thing is that I haven't worn the turtleneck since I was in Granada. This is evidenced by the clothes pin marks on the bottom of the shirt, showing it had last been dried hanging outside my window in the Granada air. When I realized this, it all the sudden hit me. I'm Granada-sick. And it's bad.
Days like today make me think of Granada in a strong way. As I was walking to class, the clack-clack of my boots made me remember walking through the plazas on the way to class in Granada, my boots making the same distinct sound. Suddenly I was put right back there. Sitting at breakfast, eating the toast with strawberry jam that I came to crave each morning, and drinking my cafe con leche. Looking up to see Ma in the doorway, a smile and "buenas dias!" coming from her cheery self. I miss walking (half-sprinting because we were always late) to class with Ronni and Betsy, laughing and being the loud Americans we were told not to be. The people, the buildings, the birds, the flower salesman, the tile roads that my traction-free boots would almost make me wipe out on everyday, I miss it all. Hearing "hola guapa!" as I walk to class, feeling like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world, even if the attention is only because I'm a blonde in a sea of brunettes. Greeting Hermi each morning, his half-smoked cigarette dangling in his hand, arms outstretched for a comforting hug. I've got it bad.
I thought that after almost 4 1/2 months, the same amount of time that I was in Granada, I would be okay. But I'm not. I thought I would go back to normal, but I was wrong. I admit, some of the changes in me are for the better, but that doesn't change the fact that it is different, very very different. I thought life, especially in a place as familiar as Jewell, would go back to normal. But it hasn't. And I don't think it will.
I feel like I'm biding my time, trying to soak up all the time with my friends during my last year here. I'm waiting for the day I can apply to go back to Spain. Not because I hate it here, but because a huge chunck of my heart is left there. I will return to claim it back. I have to.
Until then, I'll keep buying cheese that makes me think of Spain, wearing clothes with pin marks, and walk in boots that threaten to take my life each time I wear them, all so I can remember where I've been, and what I have to look forward to. Hasta luego...
When I woke up this morning, it was raining. Not a hard rain, but a mist, with cloudy skies. I checked the temperature for today-- 55 degrees. First actual cold day of the season. This meant only one thing: no dress today. So I pulled out a turtleneck and my boots to make me feel sassy. The thing is that I haven't worn the turtleneck since I was in Granada. This is evidenced by the clothes pin marks on the bottom of the shirt, showing it had last been dried hanging outside my window in the Granada air. When I realized this, it all the sudden hit me. I'm Granada-sick. And it's bad.
Days like today make me think of Granada in a strong way. As I was walking to class, the clack-clack of my boots made me remember walking through the plazas on the way to class in Granada, my boots making the same distinct sound. Suddenly I was put right back there. Sitting at breakfast, eating the toast with strawberry jam that I came to crave each morning, and drinking my cafe con leche. Looking up to see Ma in the doorway, a smile and "buenas dias!" coming from her cheery self. I miss walking (half-sprinting because we were always late) to class with Ronni and Betsy, laughing and being the loud Americans we were told not to be. The people, the buildings, the birds, the flower salesman, the tile roads that my traction-free boots would almost make me wipe out on everyday, I miss it all. Hearing "hola guapa!" as I walk to class, feeling like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world, even if the attention is only because I'm a blonde in a sea of brunettes. Greeting Hermi each morning, his half-smoked cigarette dangling in his hand, arms outstretched for a comforting hug. I've got it bad.
I thought that after almost 4 1/2 months, the same amount of time that I was in Granada, I would be okay. But I'm not. I thought I would go back to normal, but I was wrong. I admit, some of the changes in me are for the better, but that doesn't change the fact that it is different, very very different. I thought life, especially in a place as familiar as Jewell, would go back to normal. But it hasn't. And I don't think it will.
I feel like I'm biding my time, trying to soak up all the time with my friends during my last year here. I'm waiting for the day I can apply to go back to Spain. Not because I hate it here, but because a huge chunck of my heart is left there. I will return to claim it back. I have to.
Until then, I'll keep buying cheese that makes me think of Spain, wearing clothes with pin marks, and walk in boots that threaten to take my life each time I wear them, all so I can remember where I've been, and what I have to look forward to. Hasta luego...
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