Some places just stick with you, even if your tenure there was brief. They come to you in your dreams, or spring up when you least expect it, give you pause, take you back, and leave you longing to walk their streets or hills one more time. Lately, Argentina and Scotland have been doing that to me. Even though Michigan is my home and is more deeply rooted, it doesn't cling to the corners quite so much because I am able to visit so often.
Last week the cobbled streets of my San Isidro neighborhood sprang to life in a voice text sent to me by a dear friend there. The sounds of Spanish, and not just any Spanish but Argentine Spanish and her voice. I wanted to see her, I wanted to be there, from a place deep within me. A few days later I saw a picture on Facebook of an aquaintence hiking in Scotland and the damp hills and sharp breeze caught me off guard. It's been nearly 13 years since I left, and I was only there for 6 months. You'd think I'd be over it by now!
Some days, when the intense Bangkok sun beats down or I navigate the piecemeal sidewalk that separates my apartment complex from ICS, I am tempted to think that I just want to get out of here, I remind myself of those longings for the places I no longer call home. I remind myself that someday I will feel that way about this place, too. Someday I will miss the dilapidated elevator in my building or the pounding of my upstairs neighbor making som tam for dinner, again. Some day I will miss the small things that make up life here. So I take a deep breath, wipe the sweat from my face, and let a piece of me flutter on the fence as I walk by.
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