It’s my last week here. Yesterday, I started packing my bags. Going through all the things I’ve acquired in a year. A ticket stub from the Louvre, tea cups from Morocco, the clothes “I just had to have” that I never wore. Feeling a million different ways at once.
I think: This is the last time I will have to hang my laundry. Back to the world of dryers. This is the last time I will buy my apples from my favorite fruteria. Will she miss me? This is the last time I will make the 20 minute walk to school. This is the last time I will venture out at 7pm and be greeted by the people of Priego with all their families out for the nightly paseo. This is the last time.
But wait. I still have so many things I want to do. I want to go to a bullfight. I want to cheer at a Barca futbol match. I want to see the terraces in Cordoba. I want to eat paella in Valencia. I want to learn flamenco. I want to drink Rioja in Madrid. I want to take a Spanish class. Time, it just moves along without you knowing and you wake up one day and realize, this is the end.
But is it? Maybe this is just the beginning for me.
Today, during an all too engaging lesson on the Stone Age, in walks two of my 5th grade students with a bouquet of flowers bigger than they were. I was so moved by this gesture. And, I happen to love flowers.
My 1st graders made me a beautiful book. “Te Quiero Medebeth” they wrote. I love you too, guys.
On to your next adventure!!