When we got to Cumbaya and began to drive towards Cesar's uncle's house, something snapped. Something about the buildings and the layout of the area reminded me of home. Of course, this is Ecuador and not everything looks like home. Only a random building or a random Christmas decoration already on display here and there looked like home. Yet for some reason, this made me incredibly homesick. I started thinking about the apartment building I lived in in Austin. Then I switched to the drive between my house and the Galleria in Dallas. I thought about the one time Ally and I went after Christmas so she could spend her Urban Outfitters gift card I had gotten her. Next I had flashes of Christmases at home, waiting for Dad to finish preparing the food for the fondue. As I waited for Cesar to finish talking his uncle, it just got worse and worse. By the time we started driving to his house, I was about to lose it.
I'm not sure what's brought on this bout of homesickness. I wasn't planning on going home for Christmas because I know it's expensive. In fact, I have no idea what I'm doing for Christmas yet. I haven't really been particularly homesick in a long time. I have, however, been dealing with a stressful class and random bouts of dizziness. However, I don't think these are enough to bring on the extreme sadness I felt. I think a better explanation is the knowledge that so many of my close friends have gone home or will go home soon. Andrea will be visiting for a few days next week and then will move back to Florida permanently. Anne left a couple weeks ago rather suddenly. My friends from the WorldTeach February group will go home sometime in December/January (many of them don't seem to have solid dates nailed down yet.) While everyone is leaving, I'm still here. Unlike last year, which felt more like a break from "real life", this year feels serious. I have to remind myself that I'm not "trapped" here - or anywhere. I'm only 23 and the only constraint I have is money. But with so many people leaving and the realization that I live and work here now are starting to weigh on me.
I want to emphasize right now that I still like my life in Ecuador. I'm sure you've noticed that there's a new name in this post. I've started dating another guy who is one of the sweetest, most caring, and most intelligent people I've ever met. I have a best friend who's always there for me. I have some amazing roommates who give me soup when I'm sick or wash my dishes when I've been too lazy to do them the same night I use them. Now that I teach 3 classes, I make enough money to live without stressing about my paycheck lasting until the end of the month. I have some amazing current and former students. Really, life here is wonderful right now. I think there's just something about accepting that this is the life I've settled into right now and I have no deadline for going anywhere new in sight. I know I'll either have to return to the U.S. or get a better paying job sometime in the near future because I have those college loans to pay off. But realizing that I've really made this decision and it can be as permanent as I want it to be, is making me homesick for the "easy" life I had in the U.S. (Easy in the sense that I knew the language perfectly, I knew the culture, and Ally was around to be crazy with.)
Anyway, I'd like to end on a happy note instead of the homesickness and seriousness of living in a foreign country. I'd expound more on that last thing, but I've already done that so much and my views haven't changed since the last time I wrote about it. So instead, here is a picture from my trip to Machala to visit Iris during my last break. (Sorry, I have no pictures with Cesar yet.)
[Blog title is from "Guinevere" by Eli Young Band]
