It's really strange to write that. Four Weeks. But in four weeks, I'll be on my plane home.
I'm not even sure what you can do in four weeks anymore.
To know that we've been here for more than thirty eight weeks, make four seem a bit small. But at the same time, it doesn't feel like thirty eight weeks. Somedays being at home feels like yesterday. But it wasn't. Not even close. Try two-hundred and sixty eight yesterday's ago. That's the last time I've been home. And I can imagine things have changed since then.
So what did we do with the time inbetween? I don't think we'll remember enough to really know. It's a way of life, and we will be leaving it. We signed up for ten months, not forever.
I will admit though, my brain has not processed how long four weeks is, nor does it think that we will ever make it past this coming week. The next week of school is filled with finals. And just knowing from my description of WWIII over a science test, you can imagine how the next week will be in school. I have a feeling it will be quite long...
Soon after we'll have the final AFS Orientation, and towards the very end- the Hogueras festival here in Alicante. They are already starting to put up lights for this- since two weeks ago. Should be really impressive.
And then when that's done, we'll be heading back. Ending. Over. The year experience will be history...
As negative as it sounds, I think we should celebrate the end. In a way. Landing in New York is like closing the book. Why celebrate closing a book? Because it was a difficult one to read. And to write. This year has been no vacation. The students who make it to the end have something to be proud of. To be able to say that we made it. Through the ups and downs, we finished the journey.
But like manys time mentioned before, coming home brings another challenge. It brings ups, and it brings downs. And still, they will be all new kinds of ups and downs.
I say like closing the book, because you don't really close it. There's still more.
I guess that my biggest frustration will be when I encounter people who think I went on a big, long, year vacation. May people travel the world. Sure, they've been to Spain. But for how long? A week? A month? heck, six months doesn't seem that long either. A vacation is completely different than living and adapting yourself. I'm not enjoying coffee everyday in the streets, staying in a five star hotel, and going on boat rides all the time. Heck no. I am living as the people do. You can't splurge money in a year like you can for a vacation. Nor do you experience the same things. So who thinks this was a vacation? I want them to re-live everything I had to go through. Then, they'll see. They won't be saying anything about vacation. They'll be asking why I am crazy enough to have gone through it all. And what crazy thing kept me here.
And just like the beginning, there will be the ones who ask- why? Why did you go? I still cannot bring myself to find an answer short enough to write. But I will make one comment- this is a life changing experience. We changed during this time. We will go back, and be effected by this for the rest of our lives.
You know those books you read, that make an impression on your life? The ones you read, and will never forget? This year is one of those books. The books that you can read, and you'll never be the same after.
The book never really closes.
As much as my brain says no, I know this next week will go by quick enough. And the following as well. Then it'll be Hogueras, and BOOM. Time to go. The weirdness of it all, is having the "time to go" part be so... correct. After ten months, it is time to go. But when we're not looking, the end comes up by surprise. The end of course, to that race from my post: focus.
"Time to go" is a common phrase. But we didn't just come for a visit. We're not talking to little kids, or a dog, who get distracted by something. We are talking about staying ten months, and all of a sudden- it's "time to go!" The weirdness of such a brisk phrase doesn't belong with a time length of ten months.
So I've decided that those who have followed my blog are the ones who are truly interested in my trip abroad. It's the most public information I've given about my experience. I know the number one question when I get back will be-
"How was Spain?"
My answer?
"You should read my blog."
I refuse to try and explain my whole year in one conversation. Or hour. Or day. It's impossible. Those who are really interested I would like to hope, take the few minutes to read my blog. It solves having to repeat story after story, makes it so much easier to explain, and gives me a reference to go back to. So a big thank you to those who have been reading this. Seriously- it means a lot.
I will know who you are when you don't ask me,
"Mary Beth! How was Spain?"
-mb
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