Adjusting back to an American lifestyle has been for lack of a better word, strange. I feel like a german cog being put into a swiss clock. It works, but it's not the ideal piece to make the system be, well, clockwork. Don't get me wrong, America is great, it's been peachy keen getting to see my friends and family, but I feel so different.
Europe was one of the biggest experiences of growth I had ever faced. I liken it to the growth of a flower. I went to europe under the impression that I was a blooming or at least budding flower, but upon arrival through the situations I encountered, I came to the realization that I was just a seed. Unfortunately at first I traded in alcohol for the watering can, and I missed out on a few experiences and friendships that could have been cherished for a long time post-travel. Although that was a downer, and I'd never felt so lonely and little in such a big and unfamiliar place, it was one of the most crucial parts of my experience abroad. And instantly from that point I knew I could start sprouting or I could claim unfertile ground.
I sprouted. I went independent. I chased experiences that I wanted to have and relied solely on me and defined myself outside of the group of wonderful people I had just met.
I took a week to myself, I walked and wandered. I was a vagabond, a nomad, but at that point I was not a passenger, because I was in total control of destination. No one had the map, and I had the wheel.
Alone and metaphorically lost in Europe, I had no group, I had no plans, I had no destination, aside from living and surviving. I wandered the streets of Salamanca, taking solace in the golden limestone archeticture and the vined iron confines of the hidden gardens. I learned the place like the back of my hand. I found it's wonders, it's unseen spots, and the glory that only someone with my situation or a local who had lived there for years could seek out.
I moved from tourist and visitor, to adventurer and apreciator.
I fell in love.
As the weeks went on, I adjusted, working my way slowly but steadily and surely back into the swing of things. I began formulating lasting relationships with people, and assimilated, but with a new purpose of taking care of myself and my experience first. The whole time I reminded myself to take care of me and my mistress, Salamanca, first.
Leaves of mine started to sprout as the cold and chill of winter gave way to the warmth and joy of spring. I got to know myself better than I had previously thought as I adopted the mentality and heart of a lion, the symbol of pride in Spain. I retooled, and reinvented my way of thinking. I had renewed vigour, spirit and pride in my accomplishment of overcoming an incredible and daunting misstep.
Then I blinked.
And there I was, an experience, come and gone. I sat in the Madrid airport, tired, sad, and mourning for another breath of Spanish culture and lifestyle. But with that sadness, was happiness for what was to come. Because I was ready to come back to the United States with my new outlook, hoping to continue to grow the seed that I had planted, reaped, sowed, and nurtured.
I was looking forward to college, and rightly so as I was accepted to Berkeley upon my return, I looked forward to friends, family and food, because let's face it, the Spanish know nothing about good pizza. But over all of that I looked forward to coming back, and giving Spain another go.
As I boarded the plane I looked out the window at a country I had grown to love, and I knew not to call last time in Spain, because as a grizzled, wave and sun hardened surfer once said to me in the line up, "It's always bad to call last wave, at any point in time. Last is final, and there is always another wave to ride, and experience to have, and you never want to limit yourself."
So I gazed out, let my eyes glaze over, let one tear roll down my cheek for the place I loved, and looked down at my book, Ernest Hemmingway's the "Sun also Rises."
And it truly does. With every rise and fall of the sun, there is a new experience, a new challenge, and another chance to grow and bud into the full fledged flower that each one of us is meant to be.
Now Playing: SOJA "Here I Am." It's sad, it's caring, and it's beautiful. Without getting to Mushy.
Copy, Paste, Enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07mVsQA-awQ
