It’s officially my last night in Montevideo and I must admit I’m a little sad to be leaving. I’ve gotten very accustomed to my life here and I was beginning to feel very comfortable in my home, my school, my city.
After dinner, Amparo presented me with a notebook she keeps of all the students who have stayed with her. The pages are filled with letters, cards and notes to her from 11 different people, mostly from the states or Europe. In Spanish, I attempted to convey what a lovely person she is and how kind, helpful and hospitable she’s been. I thanked her for waking me up everyday, telling me when to bring my umbrella and for her incredible dulce de leche mousse.
Montevideo was more or less a random decision and I still have difficulty explaining exactly what it was that brought me here. In reality, Anthony Bourdain first gave me the idea and it was later solidified the more I read and heard about the city and country. Finding the school finalized my decision. For taking such a long shot, this experience couldn’t have gone more smoothly. Here I’ve consistently felt safe, welcomed and stimulated. I’ve even begun to see Montevideo as beautiful; it really has grown on me. Leaving my computer and brick of a dictionary under Amparo’s care ensures a return, probably some time in late December.
In addition, last night I was finally acquainted with some Philly girls who'd I'd been e-mailing with for the past few weeks. We were united through mutual friends and they will be here for the next six months. They are wonderful and already, I have a bed and an invitation for Christmas and New Year’s.
Tomorrow, I will brave the humungous metropolis of Sao Paulo alone, before meeting Tori on Tuesday. I’m a little daunted just by the directions I copied in order to get from the airport to my hostel, which includes three different modes of transportation, but I’m up for the challenge. I already have some reales, the Brazilian currency, which is intensely colorful and decorated with fish, birds and cougars and I’m pretty sure I remember how to say “thank you” in Portuguese.
Until soon.
I've been reading all your posts about dreams and I just woke up from a dead sleep after dreaming about you, so I'm going to try to remember it all as best as I can here...
ReplyDeleteSo you came back from your travels and we were somewhere, I have no idea, but I'm pretty sure it was supposed to be "home." We hung out around these cars that were getting serviced, like a mechanic's garage, and then we went to this store where we tried on lots of headbands. For some reason we got rushed out of the store and I stole two of them. Then, we went to go see Pam Anderson, and on the way (or maybe after she was in the car?) our car was hijacked. Then I can't remember a lot of the dream...then we were in Boston at night, but it actually looked like Spanish Harlem, and we were waiting for the T but the tracks were only open for traffic one way. I kept going door-to-door to ask people if they liked a certain kind of pizza. Then, we saw kids biking down the closed side of the tracks in mini bikes covered with what looked like the T's front, so basically mini T-cars driven by small children. We made it onto a packed bus that was driving on the T tracks, but we left behind my uncle Mike and a friend from college that you've never met, Liz. So we got off the bus and then a massively packed T went by us.
And then I woke up, convinced I heard my sister Becka's voice and that it was snowing outside, none of which was true.
I have no idea what that dream means AT ALL, except that I miss you a lot and can't wait to hear what happens next in Sao Paulo. Safe travels, my love!
Rachel, that is the most ridiculous thing I´ve ever heard and I want nothing more than to cleverly decode every scene, but I am utterly unable to do anything but laugh every time I re-read it.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your adventures. At least we get to hang out in our dreams!
Miss you terribly, I wish you could come down here and help me with my Spanish.
Love, F