Before we came to Barcelona, the counselors and instructors showed us a graph. A long, curvy line showed us the ups and downs we could expect while spending almost a year studying abroad. The excitement of arrival, the frustration of having to shop, get around, and find an apartment in another language and culture, the thrill of actually accomplishing those tasks, the unavoidable homesickness, etc. I glanced at it at the time but shuffled it back into the ream of documents we'd been given. 'Don't tell me how I'll feel,' I probably thought, 'I'll tell you, when it happens.' And through all the good times I've had here in Barcelona, I haven't thought much about that graph.
But during the not-so-good times, the days when the entire city seemed to be an implacable force motivated only to bedevil me... I thought about that graph. The damned prophet that had seen all of it coming. Yes, there have been ups and downs this year. But even in the midst of my own peevishness I knew what a graph like that really meant: the city is always the same; YOU'RE what changes. "... there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." I certainly can't argue against the Bard and a line graph.
Among the mountains and valleys (or perhaps, the hills and ditches), I've come back to my familiar refrain: what have I learned? I think the most important thing I've learned is that I love to travel and I don't like just living somewhere. Barcelona's got a lot to offer, but for the past year it's been the place where I do grocery shopping, where I have class and homework, where I have bills to pay. It's been many other things, but that laundry list (god, I forgot laundry!) is wrapped up in it somewhere, too. The other places- Paris, Vienna, Copenhagen, many others- were fun. They were 'Best of' albums. New food, new languages, new old buildings- constant stimulation. I love that stuff. I'm a junkie. But when I stepped off the plane back in Barcelona I wasn't coming home to a 'Best of'. It may not be fair to Barcelona, but I've studied the history of Catalunya- trust me, nothing is.
This particular entry is probably a little one-sided, and I hope it's obvious that I've had an incredible, life-altering time here that I wouldn't trade away. I don't think I'll really know how much it's all meant to me for another year or two- that's the way it happened with Madrid, anyway. But right now, in this moment, what does all of this mean? It means that with only a few more days until I'm back home, I'm excited. My own personal line graph is taking a decidedly upward turn. I don't know if that was predicted in the first graph, and I don't care. It's time to go.
Besides, I'm almost out of peanut butter.
But during the not-so-good times, the days when the entire city seemed to be an implacable force motivated only to bedevil me... I thought about that graph. The damned prophet that had seen all of it coming. Yes, there have been ups and downs this year. But even in the midst of my own peevishness I knew what a graph like that really meant: the city is always the same; YOU'RE what changes. "... there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." I certainly can't argue against the Bard and a line graph.
Among the mountains and valleys (or perhaps, the hills and ditches), I've come back to my familiar refrain: what have I learned? I think the most important thing I've learned is that I love to travel and I don't like just living somewhere. Barcelona's got a lot to offer, but for the past year it's been the place where I do grocery shopping, where I have class and homework, where I have bills to pay. It's been many other things, but that laundry list (god, I forgot laundry!) is wrapped up in it somewhere, too. The other places- Paris, Vienna, Copenhagen, many others- were fun. They were 'Best of' albums. New food, new languages, new old buildings- constant stimulation. I love that stuff. I'm a junkie. But when I stepped off the plane back in Barcelona I wasn't coming home to a 'Best of'. It may not be fair to Barcelona, but I've studied the history of Catalunya- trust me, nothing is.
This particular entry is probably a little one-sided, and I hope it's obvious that I've had an incredible, life-altering time here that I wouldn't trade away. I don't think I'll really know how much it's all meant to me for another year or two- that's the way it happened with Madrid, anyway. But right now, in this moment, what does all of this mean? It means that with only a few more days until I'm back home, I'm excited. My own personal line graph is taking a decidedly upward turn. I don't know if that was predicted in the first graph, and I don't care. It's time to go.
Besides, I'm almost out of peanut butter.
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See you soon.
~Dad