Racing closer

I spent last night in a bar with another friend I have here, one of the first friends I made. He speaks English amazingly well, so his support here when I was trapped under the weight of Spanish meant a great deal to me. He's leaving tomorrow in the morning for Sweden to work, and I'm leaving the following morning, so we got together to have some drinks and say our goodbyes. When he dropped me off at my house, I was sad, but most of all I was grateful. I realized that this person made an appearance in my life almost as brief as the blink of an eye, but he left his signature in my guest book and I can always make a trip down memory lane to remind myself how good it was to meet him. Mostly I look at him as an example of how once in a while someone will just show up in your life and show you how to get around those big boulders in the road. Then they'll go their separate way but you're lucky enough to never forget.

This afternoon I took a walk around the neighborhood. It's a nice neighborhood for that, with nice houses and clean streets, but more importantly I wanted to tread the ground, breathe the air, listen to people converse in Spanish. The end is racing towards me so fast, I feel like there's nowhere near enough time to soak in everything before I go.

I realized today that my Spanish isn't so horrendous. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's pretty damned bad in the larger picture, but I can handle it. My friend called me and we talked for just a minute or two. When I hung up the phone, it struck me in an odd way that I had just had that conversation in Spanish, and yet I comprehended everything. Later in the afternoon I went to the convenience store to get some nachos and the guy who works there talked to me for a while about how my winter break was and about his plans to move to the U.S. to work. Again as I left I realized with more conviction that I speak Spanish. Five months and I speak another language. One that, four months ago, made me want to jump off a bridge. Japanese and German took me eleven and eight years, and Japanese is about a million times easier than Spanish. Again I'd like to reiterate that my Spanish really sucks, but having it comfortably tucked into my belt makes me feel a whole lot better.

The evening concluded at a bar downtown with my best friend here. Good music, amazing beer ( Lord am I going to miss Indio. The greatest beer ever brewed ), some regulars at this particular bar I had the opportunity to bid farewell, and a chance to take in the city at night for the last time. The utter foreign veil draped over the country does well enough to make it magical for me, but the truth is that the city isn't really all that impressive during the day. It's something you have to see at night.

Oh my God I'm going to miss it here so much.