When it comes to being a foreigner, detached from family and friends, I have found myself gripping to my own self image and struggling to maintain it in such a different environment. Its so mysterious to me how life can go on at home without my presence and how I can maintain life here without those who have defined me and helped me. Its truly bizarre.
I guess, at this point, I am accepting reality and embracing it. Its hard some mornings, waking up to familiar faces who don´t understand you. As one of my friends here was saying, you can´t explain yourself beyond ¨¨Me siento mal¨ I feel bad. Its not a sickness, nor should it be treated as such. Its the pangs of growth, my mental muscles worn from stretching and working in ways they´ve never had to before. I sleep. Too much, and I am trying to change that, force myself to walk the streets, breath the life of Spain.
Today, I woke up late, and stumbled out onto Camino De Ronda, the big street by where I live. I walk past if everyday and I truly believe it gives you one of the best views of the city, you can see the enormous sierra nevadas in the distance, the Alhambra high on its peak overlooking the town, houses upon houses, layered up the mountain, and directly infront, the dirty streets of a city. A wall of grafitti, a empty space where bums seem to live, a train station that runs the rails dirty. Its beautiful and its my Granada. Life is here, changing, forming, climbing up the mountains, stumbling down to the dirt of the land infront of me.
I sat down at one of my favorite benches and started to take notes on my feelings, (I have essentially regurgitated them onto this blog) and I realized something, across from me had sat a middle aged man. His skin and hands brown, a dirty blue shirt, rusty corodory pants, a plastic bag filled with god knows what. In the middle of this beatiful Sunday scene, families walking their dogs, old couples strolling after church, there I sat accross from this man. Clearly homeless, his expression not one of pain but of blankness, of numbness to the world. And here I am complaining about my experiences...
What it comes down to is this is such an unreal moment, one so luxurious you almost forget how lucky you are. So, I decided, I have to take notice, look around, feel it. I have to take Granada into my body because if I don´t, I will truly be a brat. I am so thankful for what I have, and I hope to take these moments and NEVER forget them, and to help them teach me who I am and what it is to be alive.
Its an experience and sometimes experiences hurt, they cut, they bruise, they shame, they embarass, but they build you. And, to be honest, being here is unreal. I am here to see another world, to see a place so unlike my own, to learn a langugae so rapid fire and passionate, my chill Northern heart still struggles to comprehend. Spain is unlike me, so unlike me, and I am taking it in and embracing that although we are different, I am here to learn, to see, to feel, to hopefully to understand, at least a little, of what it is to be Spanish.
WOW: sorry, that was REALLY cheesy. I APOLOGIZE, its just a weird moment, and I felt I should write about it. I hope you all understand.
I love you and miss you all....
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4 comments:
Hey Durochka-Kurochka
You should not feel bad about feeling lonely or being tired of foreign surroundings and all the unfamiliar things. Also, we all want to be understood (literally and in a more profound way) and we all have the need to be able to express ourselves in the world. And of course limited language and exotic culture completely ruin your chance of doing any this, which leaves you humbled and subdued. And I am sure it is a really weird feeling that you live with these people in such unbelievable proximity, and still know very little about them and probably have no chance of even remotely understanding them. And this is reciprocal. It’s only natural that all this stuff makes you feel a little (or a lot!) melancholy.
So you don't have to feel appreciative of every moment of your sadness - you'll have time for it after you come home, and will really be able to reflect on it. For now, it's a good idea though to stop for a moment and pay more attention to the world around you and try to breathe it in. Don't sleep it away. And write about it as much as you can.
And don't worry about sounding cheesy, everything sincere and exciting is borderline cheesy. But who cares, we don't want your put on coolness, we want your sincere and non-guarded reflections, and we're glad you're sharing this with us.
Love you amd miss you a lot!
hey you!
even if you are cheesy, it still sounds good to me. I'd be like i ain't this u dangit that improper grammar, improper grammer. So u impressed me! haha but i don't know how valuable that is. just wanted to tell you that we's all miss you!
keep it real!
j-boog
Liza, when we came to US we / adults/ felt numb, disoriented, stressed, lost for a long tome. I used to tell that my first year / or two/ I lived like in a fog. It is a huge change for you, and it is what stress is all about, you have to use a lot of mental energy for simple tasks, like ordering cofee con leche, you repeat it in your head not once before you say , like any other any phrase, you think harder to understand, and this means an extra work for your head, and it is hard, and nobody around to share your worries, for this you have to call, to go to internet cafe etc. But it is a price you pay, and we reaaly feel for you, but it is like life anywhere else, clouds today, sunshine tomorrow. See, you are not the only one who is cheesy. Papski
hey zaika
I talked to you in the morning and already posted some stuff on this entry, but i just wanted to say "hi" for the day and let you know that I still love you and I think today I even love you more than I did yesterday!
How does papa manage to come up with such cute posts - I am jealous? Mine are always boring, preachy, pretentious sounding and largely humorless. And he somehow even knows how to turn cheesy into cute.
LOVE YOU!!!!
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