And as these last few weeks have slid by, I've found myself writing some of my own messages.
P- You were looking for someone to practice your English with. But I wasn't going to be in town much longer. If only you had told me earlier, if only I'd had more time here, we could have gotten coffee. That talk we had is half the reason why I want to find a triathlon to do sometime soon. Good luck with your swimming. Two years and your technique is looking good. You just need to work on building up strength and stamina and you'll be golden. You don't know how much I appreciated it when you told me that I swam beautifully.
M - I never learned your name. You probably don't know that you were the first one to talk to me at the pool. Thanks for letting me know that no one was angry at me for being a little faster than your average swimmer at the pool. Your laugh and your confidence always made me smile. I wish I'd realized you were on your way out of the pool when I saw you last. I didn't get the chance to say goodbye.
J - You said you might be at the pool at 9:30. I didn't see you though and, so didn't get the chance to say goodbye. You are so warm. Thanks for telling me where I could get my hair and nails done. I appreciate how sincere you were.
A - We went out for drinks a couple of times. But our schedules were never very compatible, and I was always to busy and studious for the full all night out that you Spaniards are used to. Then November happened and neither of use were in town. Hope to see you in May. Even though I only saw you a few times, you're one of the coolest and most thoughtful people I've ever met. Your inner philosopher was quite the pleasant surprise. Good luck in whatever country you end up working in.
It's become obvious to me that 3.5 months is not nearly long enough to start to build a space for yourself in a new place. It took me at least a month to get even remotely comfortable with the language and another one to gather the courage to talk to people. I kept thinking I was doing something wrong, because I hadn't made a whole lot of friends outside of the people I saw on a daily basis through my host family and my classes, but let's be honest, the way I function as a not-exactly-social person means that it takes me longer to build what feels to me like meaningful relationships.
Yes, I did see people on a near daily basis with whom I held conversations, whose names I knew and who knew my name. But since I only started to come out of my shell in November--and I was hardly in Segovia in November, I didn't get much of a chance to build those relationships into anything more than casual acquaintance status.
Another person might have been able to do that. Another person a little less quite and intimidated by language barriers, another person might have made a little home in the new place faster than I could. But another person is not me and that's okay and that's one of the things I've figured out here.
But the idea of falling in love with this city without those people-connections to it is a strange one to me. What am I leaving behind? A good host family, good memories, and these missed connections. And that's what pulls at my heart the most--the things that could have been if only there was more time.
Now more than ever I see the appeal of going to one place for an entire gap year. But I'm too exited for what's coming up next to change my plans.
Getting a chance to make these connections is just one more excuse to come back, or go somewhere else, for longer. (Sorry, Mom and Dad, I know that's an alarming statement). Now that the language won't be quite the obstacle it was at first, I'd be able to dive into those missed connections.
Do these missed connections mean I somehow regret my time here? Nope. Not a chance.This last weekend, the city was shrouded in a thick fog. The sort of mist that rounds out shapes and repaints things a new color. The sort of fog that makes places you've seen day in and day out for who-knows-how-long unrecognizable. You see things with new eyes when the fog rolls in.
Looking that this place I'd been living in, so different clothed in fog. Unburdened by memories good and bad, it's easy to re-see how beautiful a place is. I could look around me and say, with confidence that, yes, I will remember this city fondly. For the sound of my footsteps in the uneven streets brings to mind the rhythm of the Spanish language that no longer falls strangely in my ears. And at every corner I can count the number of things learned this place has brought me.
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