Beginnings

I moved into my new home this week. After spending several splendid days with Dan and Rachel at their place, I finally managed to hammer down some permanent housing, one that allows me to eat well while not getting shanked in the process. After a somewhat precarious bus ride through the city with all my belongings in tow I stepped into the 12x8 room that will be my world for the next several months. All the moving, all the goodbyes, all the indescribable longing that has inexplicably become a part of my soul. And now I’m here. I’ve been trying to be brave about the whole thing ever since finishing classes and leaving Philadelphia. I tried to seem sure of myself while I was home in LA, I tried to be encouraging and give to my parents while I was in Michigan, all the while praying under my breath that God had me doing what I should be doing since I sure as hell didn’t know what that was supposed to be. Thomas Merton was soooo right about that one.

And so here I was, pacing around my new room like a captive tiger getting to know its new cage. This was what I was waiting for and I wasn’t entirely sure if I had made the right decision. But then, quite unexpectedly, it began to rain. Big fat droplets that seemed to bounce when they hit the ground. I opened my door and the smell of wet dirt and the sound of rain on aluminum shot right through me. And that was all the answer I needed. My doubts trickled through me and down into the gutter, the rain pushing them out of my sight. I have so many questions to which I still hope to find the answers, but in the meantime I am going to live here, in Cochabamba, Bolivia, renting a nice little room from a family who treats me kindly and corrects my horrible grammar.

They have a dog named Kodi. He’s a golden retriever. In a fit of elitist snobbery I refrained from petting him the entire first day due to whatever possible diseases he might be carrying, which is odd considering he´s an incredibly clean dog. It didn´t last long and I broke down shortly after dinner by gaving him a good scratching, and now I have a friend for life. While I´m having my Spanish lessons with Alejandro throughout the day, Kodi, with as stealthy an approach as is possible for an adolescent golden retriever, will quietly push open the door with his nose and attempt to gain entry into my room. Alejandro and I will mostly ignore him as he nonchallantly places first one paw, and then the other past the doorway. Eventually he´ll simply go for it and try to come in all the way, which results in both Alejandro and I pretending to be mad by telling him to get out in our respective languages.

It´s the little things, you know?