Getting home so late from Morocco, so damp, so worn out, and
so happy to be home, I was so so so grateful for the dry fresh sheets and new
comforter Ana put on our beds for our return. October 24 and the
weather is expected to drop into the seventies this week. Brrrr. More exciting and terrible was the torrential downpour that
kept me up till six and woke me up at ten, just in time to arrive for Arab
literature class (where I wrote the last 2000 words for this very
blog!).
I had not seen rain since the rainy day we arrived in
Sevilla. This is my first full week in Sevilla in nearly a month. This week
also marks around halfway.
Halfway. Here is where we can chose optimism or pessism, half full cups of sangria, or half empty bottles of tinto. Both seem okay. I can't get too bitter.
Luckily, I’ve been reflecting all along
with you and this blog. So I can hardly forget a moment.
I’m also still sure this is a parallel existence. I’m
convinced that when I go home, I’ll just pick up where I left off, with the
sweet memories of my espanola vida behind me. I have an image of my driving
down Central Avenue to go buy some shoes and groceries, or maybe going to City
Center movies to see a romcom with a friend. Or yelling at my sister for
stealing my clothes while I was gone.
And Sevilla will literally just be a dream, where I happened to get
better at Spanish and learn some about myself.
This morning it was raining and last night it was raining and each drop is like that pinch I need to wake up and live rather than
just dream it. It’s the call to action that I start an internship tomorrow and
want to find a language-exchange buddy and need to look at winter courses and
study for my midterms here.
It can rain and rain and rain but I’m still going to feel
unreal. I just
went to Africa and Paris in the same week.
I'm out of this world, or just on
another side of it.
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