The plethora of songs out there about California, California girls, and California thuggin' that I usually listen to when I'm getting pumped up on my way home stayed off this time. Instead, I just kind of sat and thought about what had just happened. Did it happen? This blog tells me yes, so I suppose it is good I kept one lest it all be believed a dream. And I supposed I felt different, so that was pretty telling. Yes, that was it. Even though it seemed like no time had past between this flight and my flight into Mexico City, I was different and I was taking some different things back with me as luggage.
First, squatting muscles. Rarely did my cheeks touch los baños mexicanos. Speaking of which, next, I bring my "taco ass" as it has been lovingly called by a certain family member. Really, it's not that bad, despite my Mexpandable Waistline adventures. I've also got a few more spanish speaking skills (I promise, Dad). I love that I could probably carry on a conversation with a native spanish speaker. It wouldn't be perfect, and they would be given several opportunities to laugh and correct, but I could most likely get a point across. I think what I am most glad to be taking home is the confidence and desire to live abroad. I feel as though I could go back to Mexico anytime, rock the crazy bus system, ask for directions, find food, ask for a receipt, inquire as to who built the ruins, etc. I would not have considered this as much of a possibility before this semester. I've learned how to integrate into a culture and appreciate vast differences as well as striking similarities. I feel as though I have tapped into a tiny piece of what is beyond our borders, been shown the immeasurable amount of knowledge I do not know, and been giving the desire and confidence to pursue it. These may seem like big statements, but I promise you, I only claim to have scratched the surface. Well, I guess you have to start somewhere! So who knows what this will look like in the future. I would love to go back to live for a bit at some point in my life; soon, not soon, with family, as an elderly abuelita...quien sabe...
Anyways, home. Call me cheesy, but the title of this blog is more than just a line from one of my favorite songs. With all of the happenings of the last couple weeks, the end of the semester and the returning home, I've been amazed by how true it is that the people make the home. This may have been the obvious conclusion of my reflection and joy at being home, but it also made me realize something about my semester. Our group, in a way, made a sort of home in Puebla. We were constantly with each other, doing everything from cooking a meal, to talking about how said meal affected our bowel movements, from driving hours on end to rejoicing in our arrivals, from learning what makes each other pissed to learning what makes each other laugh. We became somewhat of a family and I feel incredibly blessed to have had a home in Mexico with them.
Now, I am back in my own bed, with my parents sleeping down the hall, and my coughing nephew and sister next door. The window above my head lets the cool and sweet-smelling air waft over my face just as it always has, and my Legolas stand up in the corner glances down at me with love, having waited motionless and with baited breath for my return. Sitting around the kitchen with my entire family tonight brought so much joy that I physically felt happy shivers in my stomach and heart. It is wonderful to be home.
Thank you for your loyalty, dear readers. It has been a pleasure sharing my journey with you. Have a very Merry Christmas!!!
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