stuck inside of mobile
I'm ready to go home. But I think it's going to be different when I get there.
I've loved living here for 5 months; I've learned so much and seen so much and had to do most things on my own. But it's been hard. I've been robbed, I've been stared at so much, I've choked on bus fumes, I've been lost, I've been lonely, I've taken a class so boring and awful that I've come close to tears while taking notes, I've been sick, I've nearly gone out of my mind on 11-hour bus rides, I've been so frustrated with the general inefficiency here, I've been hungry, I've been homesick. Through all of this I've maintained this idea that Home is so perfect, so ready for me to come back to so I can have and do anything I want. Sometimes the thought is what has kept me sane, but I'm afraid I won't find things so perfect when I do get back. I inevitably will bicker with my parents and my sister eventually, I will have missed a lot with my friends, I will have to work every weekday for the rest of the summer, I will have to spend FOUR DOLLARS A GALLON on gas (absolutely ridiculous), I will be bored, I will have to learn to do actual schoolwork again, I will have nowhere or nobody to speak Spanish to, I will have to get used to living under my parents' authority again, I will miss my friends from here because we've been through so much together, I will have to get used to friends not showing affection publicly, I will probably never have such good, fresh fruit, people won't be as open.
I think the hardest thing for me to come to terms with is that I've missed so much. We have a new TV, and one of the cats died right before I left, and my mom has lost a gazillion pounds on Weight Watchers, and my sister has graduated, and some of my gals are moved into a new apartment (woohoo!), and Maine has already been through its beautiful early-summer stage, and the church already put on its murder-mystery play, and everyone is out of school and doing their summer things. So much. And I've been having my own adventures, for sure, but it's just hard to hear about things at home going on from thousands of miles away, when I can't be there.
I keep playing this scenario over and over in my head, about how when I get home I'll want to buy, oh I don't know, a new CD or something. And I know exactly where I can get it, and I know they'll have it, and I won't have to settle for something that's not exactly right. And then maybe I want a snack or a Diet Coke and I'll know exactly where to go, and it won't be hard to find, and I won't get weird looks for asking for it (since apparently gringos are the only ones who like Diet Coke, thus it costs a whole lot more than regular Coke here). Then maybe I'll want to go somewhere else, anywhere else, and I'll be able to DRIVE right there (not being able to drive is killing me) instead of taking the bus, where I'm afraid someone will slice my backpack or drug me, or the g.d. Ecovia, where men think it's completely appropriate to sandwich a girl and press their crotches up against her. Ugh. And I'll be speaking the same language as everyone else, with no accent and no silly way of saying things when I forget the words. And I won't worry about not having room for what I buy because I won't be living out of a suitcase. And I won't be looking over my shoulder and constantly revising an escape plan in my mind, just in case. And I can go home and eat the best parts out of the ice cream in the freezer and check my email without having to reconnect the internet 87,000 times and I'll be able to talk to my family face-to-face instead of through a computer screen where our faces freeze and we echo.
But then I think: I'll have to pay out the ears for my gasoline instead of 25 cents for a bus ride, I won't meet anyone on public transportation who wants to practice their English with me, I won't be able to buy fried bananas or chochos y tostados or Amor wafer cookies from women on the street, I won't be getting good exercise from walking everywhere, I won't be able to buy bootleg DVDs or CDs for dirt cheap (shh, don't tell), I won't see the mountains behind every building, I won't be the gringa, I'll just be the same as everyone else. I have to remember these things because I will miss some things from here when I go.
Okay, this is really long and rambling and list-y. I'm just trying to make this all make sense.
10 days.
I've loved living here for 5 months; I've learned so much and seen so much and had to do most things on my own. But it's been hard. I've been robbed, I've been stared at so much, I've choked on bus fumes, I've been lost, I've been lonely, I've taken a class so boring and awful that I've come close to tears while taking notes, I've been sick, I've nearly gone out of my mind on 11-hour bus rides, I've been so frustrated with the general inefficiency here, I've been hungry, I've been homesick. Through all of this I've maintained this idea that Home is so perfect, so ready for me to come back to so I can have and do anything I want. Sometimes the thought is what has kept me sane, but I'm afraid I won't find things so perfect when I do get back. I inevitably will bicker with my parents and my sister eventually, I will have missed a lot with my friends, I will have to work every weekday for the rest of the summer, I will have to spend FOUR DOLLARS A GALLON on gas (absolutely ridiculous), I will be bored, I will have to learn to do actual schoolwork again, I will have nowhere or nobody to speak Spanish to, I will have to get used to living under my parents' authority again, I will miss my friends from here because we've been through so much together, I will have to get used to friends not showing affection publicly, I will probably never have such good, fresh fruit, people won't be as open.
I think the hardest thing for me to come to terms with is that I've missed so much. We have a new TV, and one of the cats died right before I left, and my mom has lost a gazillion pounds on Weight Watchers, and my sister has graduated, and some of my gals are moved into a new apartment (woohoo!), and Maine has already been through its beautiful early-summer stage, and the church already put on its murder-mystery play, and everyone is out of school and doing their summer things. So much. And I've been having my own adventures, for sure, but it's just hard to hear about things at home going on from thousands of miles away, when I can't be there.
I keep playing this scenario over and over in my head, about how when I get home I'll want to buy, oh I don't know, a new CD or something. And I know exactly where I can get it, and I know they'll have it, and I won't have to settle for something that's not exactly right. And then maybe I want a snack or a Diet Coke and I'll know exactly where to go, and it won't be hard to find, and I won't get weird looks for asking for it (since apparently gringos are the only ones who like Diet Coke, thus it costs a whole lot more than regular Coke here). Then maybe I'll want to go somewhere else, anywhere else, and I'll be able to DRIVE right there (not being able to drive is killing me) instead of taking the bus, where I'm afraid someone will slice my backpack or drug me, or the g.d. Ecovia, where men think it's completely appropriate to sandwich a girl and press their crotches up against her. Ugh. And I'll be speaking the same language as everyone else, with no accent and no silly way of saying things when I forget the words. And I won't worry about not having room for what I buy because I won't be living out of a suitcase. And I won't be looking over my shoulder and constantly revising an escape plan in my mind, just in case. And I can go home and eat the best parts out of the ice cream in the freezer and check my email without having to reconnect the internet 87,000 times and I'll be able to talk to my family face-to-face instead of through a computer screen where our faces freeze and we echo.
But then I think: I'll have to pay out the ears for my gasoline instead of 25 cents for a bus ride, I won't meet anyone on public transportation who wants to practice their English with me, I won't be able to buy fried bananas or chochos y tostados or Amor wafer cookies from women on the street, I won't be getting good exercise from walking everywhere, I won't be able to buy bootleg DVDs or CDs for dirt cheap (shh, don't tell), I won't see the mountains behind every building, I won't be the gringa, I'll just be the same as everyone else. I have to remember these things because I will miss some things from here when I go.
Okay, this is really long and rambling and list-y. I'm just trying to make this all make sense.
10 days.