Life at Home

I've been home for just over a month now. The culture shock has finally worn off, but the nostalgia still remains.
I'm completely homesick for all of Granada. For all of Europe. For all of my friends.
S and R are in the same country as me right now, but it still feels like they're miles away.

The real world is hard to keep up with on its own, but when you factor in trying to keep in touch with people on different sides of the country... it's hard. It's really hard.

It's been really cloudy here lately, and yesterday afternoon the clouds set just right and I swear it looked just like the Sierra Nevada in Granada. I didn't realize how much I'd taken that view for granted until the other day.

My Alhambra view has been replaced by the Sun Trust skyscraper. My Spanish thoughts have been replaced by Spanish jumble and the occasional movie in Spanish. My eating schedule which was once well balanced and suited to my digestion is now scattered all over the place. I'm eating much too early and staying up way too late.

I'm walking and eating and it feels weird. I can no longer wear sweat pants in public, or flip flops for that matter, as they have become officially my shower shoes. I care about presentation now. I take pride in the way that I look.

I quit writing in Spanish because I don't have the need, though I'd love to start back up.

I miss the cobble stone streets. I miss the sting that you get in your feet after walking on it for too long. The ground here is too even. My monthly club trips have been replaced by monthly crew events. My classy Mojito nights have been replaced by beer pong. My fun nights with Spaniards has been replaced by movies dubbed over in Spanish and a glass of red wine.

Oh, nostalgia. You bitch.

I miss Granada. I miss speaking Spanish every day. I miss the cobble stone. I miss the Alhambra. I miss Maite. I miss R and S. I miss life there, and how easy it was. I miss the threat of the looming crisis reminding me of how lucky I am to be where I'm at today. I miss the people in Spain, how nice they were and how understanding they could be. I miss walking everywhere. I miss not having to worry about how much gas prices rose.


Why is it that in Europe, walking is a lifestyle thing, but here in America, it's a sign of poverty? When did that become a thing?

...

I miss Spain. So much.


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Buenos Días.