Well, after not having a computer for a few months I finally got mine fixed. I felt like it was time to write something since I’ve been checked out for so long. So here we go, a quick post about one of my favorite topics: family. But, not the family you have to say Happy Holidays to or the family who you have to smile at when together at the summer picnics and family reunions while they batter you with questions that reflect their own boredom with their lives (they are always the same ones): How is school? Are you getting good grades? Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend? etc. etc. Quite unimaginative if you ask me, but we all have been victim to the Question Parade and quite a few of us have led the procession (I definitely have). No, the family I am talking about is the family you create while living–the family who falls into your life and just seems to fit as if perfectly molded into pace.
These people are the people you meet at the weekly market, at some bar friday night, while buying frozen yogurt, or while you both sit dazed in class. They are people who you meet and maybe they seem interesting so you go for coffee or sit together the next session.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I love my blood family. They drive me absolutely insane and everyone knows mom is the only one who can ruin my entire day with a look (how powerful is that?), but I really do love them. The difference is, I did not choose them. There is a power in selecting the people who remain in your life and there is a different kind of trust when you allow someone to have impact over you rather than a kind of “it comes with the territory” attitude. With less than three months left in Spain (77 days to be exact) my family here is something I have been thinking a lot about.
The people I have met here have been amazing. We have shared so many crazy stories and adventures together that I am pretty sure we could write a book series. The Adventures of Erasmus. We’ve been trapped in elevators, spent hours literally chasing drunk people through three-story clubs, shared nights that no one remembers, and have had more run-ins with the cops than I have ever had in my 2o short years of life.
I have seen most of you puking and the reverse holds true. I taught you about american food; yes, we have more than just hamburgers and you cooked for me in return.
You taught me about tolerance and how to enjoy life. Political discussions over a tub of beers has become something normal. You make me say words in your language just to laugh at my accent.
I’ve watched some of you create relationships and destroy those that existed before. I’ve seen others grow into themselves–become more confident and aware of their place in the world.
I can’t imagine life without coffee at 3pm and kebabs at 5am.
I can’t imagine life without Adventure Time and hiking.
I can’t imagine life without Badulake (it’s a love/hate relationship).
But, I really cannot imagine my life without you all.
You see, you all have changed me. I don’t think I can explain it and I’m not sure that I want to, but you all have left tiny little erasmus footprints all over my heart. Some of you have stomped a little harder than others, but your mark is there.
And my only hope is that when this is all said and done, that when these next 77 days finally expire I have helped to change you all a little as well. I hope that I too have left my mark and that I will not be easily forgotten because, well, I love you all. You are my family and you will always have a home where I am. And if you aren’t pictured here, don’t fret my darling I assure you this post is for you as well.
Now, let the countdown begin. We have 77 more days, 77 more fiestas, 77 more chances for adventure.