Goodbye just means we're closer to the next hello

            It’s never easy to say goodbye. Just ask Chuck Noland about it. Remember in Cast Away when he parted ways with his best friend Wilson? That’s why I’m not going to say it. Instead, it will be “until our next hello” to all my new friends, to my host mom, to Granada.

            I’m four months older now and over this time, I’ve experienced tremendous personal growth. Plumper, yes I am, but I’m talking about a different kind of growth: in developing a worldview, in discovering who I am, in trying new things, in defining myself. Am I completely fluent in Spanish now? Probably not. Has everything worked out how I had hoped? Nope. But in measuring success, it’s more important to evaluate yourself not just on where you are now, but on where you are now in relation to where you started. After all, Rudy wouldn’t be an inspiring movie if his success were based only in his playing 27 seconds after practicing for four years.  

            This, of course, brings me back to January. It was a time when my comfort with familiarity was broken. I stepped out of my routine, and my beloved country for that matter, to embark on a journey, whose fate I knew not. Coming as a stranger in a strange land did not exactly make for an easy arrival for me. Since then, I’ve been thrown into uncomfortable situations, made plenty of mistakes, and sometimes wondered why I was here. But those are the pains that are part of growing. Attaining anything great cannot be done without effort along the way. Putting yourself in the ring, to be marred with sweat and knocked to your knees, is the only way to achieve anything worth having, to bridge the divide between reality and your dreams. After all, you can’t ever win if you’re always standing on the sidelines. Winning is something I’ve enjoyed a lot of here. Going out with friends. Learning new subjects in class. Traveling to different countries. And, of course, I’m never happier than when in the midst of my afternoon siesta. I've learned that sometimes, you don't even have to know what you're looking for to find something that makes you happy.

            Alas, in leaving, I will miss most the people with whom I’ve shared these four months. The places I’ve been will surely outlast me, but never again will I have an experience like this with the people I did. I know that tonight’s the last time I will ever get fro-yo with Elizabeth and Megan. Tuesday was my last time going to the club with Alex and Erika and Anna. Tomorrow will be the last time I ever sit in a classroom with Colleen and Jack, Sam and Jason. We’ll stay in touch over facebook, I’m sure of that, but what I am losing is something that took four months to gain. We’ll all go home, experience the joys of reuniting with our families and friends and work our way back into that familiar routine we left in January. But, we won’t be quite the same. We’ll be carrying something extra with us—something so grand, packed deep inside, that I will most certainly not tell Delta about it for fear they will charge me extra to board the plane on Saturday. Those nights enjoying ourselves under the backdrop of the Alhambra, the moments in econ when Spanish got the best of me, the Saturday mornings searching for deals at the gypsy market…
             Tomorrow, when I board a bus leaving Granada by myself to begin my trek home, I’ll remember that timeless line from It’s a Wonderful life when Clarence says to George, “Strange, isn't it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?” To all who have come into my life in these past four months, thank you for the memories and thank you for your friendship. I am who I am today in part because of you. You have touched my life, molding me into something a little different than I was four months ago. In this way, I know that I will not be by myself tomorrow or any day for you will always be around me.

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Four Months of Favorites:

Favorite quote:

“Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

Favorite Food:

nutella-bannana crepe in France

Kitty’s gnocchi dish

Favorite Class:

Economics with Prof. Cuenca

Favorite Purchase:

Diamond encrusted Dollar-bill Belt

Favorite Country:

USA

Favorite Place Visited:

Rome

Most important to many of the fond memories I have are the people who are in them. This is what made, for example, Lagos such an awesome trip. However, Rome is a place that was incredible by itself and definitely a city I would love to revisit.

Until next time, whenever that might be, may you grow only healthier and happier in your life.

P.S. Mom, leave the light on; I’m coming home!

Not That I Loved Granada Less, But That I Loved Rome More

            Recalling the glory days of my high school track career, I remember that the final stretch of any race is the most exciting. In the 400, the measure of success was the last 100 meters, not the first. Success for me meant only that my 245 pound self would cross the finish line…even if those last 100 meters consisted of my smiling and waving to the crowds in the stands while the timers had to trade in their watches for calendars! Well here I am—less than one month left in my four-month journey abroad. At times, I’ve sprinted ahead, never wanting to look back. At other times, I’ve fallen behind, feeling overwhelmed by new cultures, tired from traveling, or disappointed in missed-opportunities. By May 29^th, though, whether I’m in front, at the back, or somewhere in the middle, I only hope that my face will be smiling and my hand waving.

             After five days of crepes, baguettes, and funny hats in Paris and then five more of shamrocks, cliffs, and potatoes in Ireland, I returned back to Granada—a little more cultured and a little less fluent in Spanish—for four days of classes, before departing on yet another adventure. This time, it would be to the land of gladiators, Olive Gardens, and amore: Rome. This past Saturday night, we (a group of three) arrived in Rome. Our first stop: an easy-to-miss pizzeria. Second stop: bed. Sunday, I made my way to the Vatican at 6:30 A.M. to witness the beatification of Pope John Paul II only to find that 1,000,000 others had beat me there. Shoulder to shoulder with others in the crowd, I occupied my place in the back. Afterwards, I would learn my way around Rome—the buses were not running, so I enjoyed an hour-long walk back to the hostel. Walking was the theme to our Sunday in Rome. We walked to the Pantheon, the Spanish steps, the twin churches, almost the entire area of the city.

            On Monday, we spent the majority of the morning and afternoon in the ruins of the Forum and then the Coliseum. Seeing Caesar’s grave, excavations from before Christ, a stadium used for more than 1,000 years, was a lot to digest even for somebody with an appetite as large as mine for history. So, to help, I thought pizza might be the answer. Over the course of these four days, pizza, pasta, and gelato became my diet, and something that I could have gotten very used to! As the rain pounded down, we finished our night eating gelato protected by the roof of the Pantheon.

            Tuesday started out with a mini Viola reunion. I met my cousin Silvia for breakfast and learned a little more about my family. I am already counting down the days until the next trip to Rome to meet even more cousins! Afterwards, it was back to the Vatican: to tour St. Peter’s Basilica and the Sistine Chapel. Still on a siesta schedule, we took our nap during the mid-afternoon before heading to dinner. Dinner was delicious, but left too little time to spend with our other friends in Rome later that night—to celebrate a birthday! Amid the celebration, I realized that this was probably the last time I would see these friends, which put a damper on my spirit, a foreboding of things to come at the end of this month when I will have to relive that experience.

            On Wednesday, after attending mass with Pope Benedict XVI, our time in Rome, as quickly as it started, was already over. Now, back in Granada, I think about the remaining three weeks I have. Three weeks of meals with Kitty; three weeks of Spanish; three weeks of watching PasaPalabra. Three weeks really isn’t that long. In my last post, I mentioned wanting to find a pause button. Over the past day, I thought now the search should focus on finding rewind—to relive the disproportionate amount of happy moments while redoing those times that haven’t worked out as I had hoped. Now, though, I am content with play. I’m ready to face what’s left; to accept that worrying too much about the future just takes time away from the present; that if something is meant to be, then it will find a way of happening; that what’s important is not being stuck in the past or fixated on a specific moment, but rather, growing personally as a result of the good and the bad to make a better tomorrow. In these last three weeks, it’s not the three months that have passed that will be the focus, but each of the 22 days I still have to go. After all, it’s the end of the race that I need to be focusing on; how I finish is what matters now.

Until next time, may you grow only healthier and happier in your life.