So, this post is coming right after the one I just did. I’m just going to say again that today was/is our last day in New York. Tomorrow we’ll get on the train and head home. We’ll be back on Sunday. Yay! Obviously, if you’ve been reading this, you know that I have been missing home like a crazy person. Conversations with my mother & my aunt, meeting a friend, the Jack Jr. from Build-A-Bear, and my grandparents visit today has really made this trip less lonely than it could have been.
Really though, even though everyone knows I’m happy to be going home, I’m still going to blog on it. It’s important to me. I mentioned before that I wouldn’t say part of what made this trip so lonely and I still won’t, though some reasons, like family, make it obvious. I’ve been away from home for long periods of time before. Staying with family or even from when I went to Mexico and still nothing was as bad as this. I mean, I loved the Natural History Museum and the Met, I found magic at the Whitney and at the library(even though I never did make it back to that lion—darn!), but still there really is no place like home.
New York is big and busy and is filled with opportunity and excitement. I guess I just don’t like it. My grandfather had me stop and actually look at some of the architecture around the buildings today—from Greek, to Franco, to English and it was really amazing. Though if I have to say, this place filled with opportunity and life is nothing compared to my home or to being in Mexico. And maybe it’s because I was probably even more familiar with Mexico than I am with New York.
I stayed with e Mexican family and I went out pretty much every night and even though I barely spoke Spanish, I flourished in Mexico. I was happy to go to my biweekly meetings and even though it wasn’t required for me to do the whole thing in Spanish, I had Spanish vomit of the mouth about my home life and the events we did. I loved it. I think I’d like to go back one day. I never felt the need to carry mace or anything like that there, even though I had it. I just…existed with people and it was a friendly and lovely experience.
That’s not to say people in New York are unfriendly. But during lunch I had a conversation with grandpa and grandma about “foreign” and how we shouldn’t look at other people as being foreign. They’re just like us with different beliefs in a different country. Though I have to say, I feel like New York is more foreign to me than Mexico ever was. Like I said, I’ve had fun and a good time here, but I think there really is something about it that makes it lonelier than any place I’ve ever been.
Because this trip, for my class, was based in part of Carson McCullers and her trip and experience here I can’t help but feel that I’m missing something. I don’t know. She flourished here in a way that I think I can’t. The only thing I’ve really accomplished here is spending money and feeling lonely, and these blogs. And there isn’t anything special here. It’s just…me and my everyday experiences that I have to post for class. I don’t know. She turned out novels being here about her home. And me…well, you can see it in this picture and the very first picture I posted.
I said this room was blank, like a canvas waiting for my story. Maybe my story is online now, but it won’t exist in this room anymore. This picture is all that’s left. Because my 11 a.m. tomorrow I have to have every packed and be ready to go. I don’t mind it at all, but it’s sad. Whatever story started here won’t be finished. It will be erased. By my own hand, even, because as I pull everything down and pack it away that story vanishes. What my possessions can do here, is completely different from what they’ll do back home. I’m not overly sad though. Even if I don’t ever accomplish anything spectacular, the story I’ll have in my own room back home, is the one I’d choose over this blank slate.
It’s familiar, it’s love, it’s family. It’s happiness. And we all have the right to pursue happiness. I’m going to do it in the place where I’m happiest, at home with my mother and my dog. I don’t know if I’ll blog again, telling the joys of home and what not, or even if I will blog in the future. There’s no telling. I’m thankful for the chance to experience New York, but I’m still really happy that it’s time to go home.