Between the Bars 5/30/06
Last day with Laney. Woke up with intense feeling of sadness, with elliott smith Between the Bars playing in my head. For about twenty minutes stared off in the sand, thinking about all the places I've been. Not just countries but spats in granada. The strangest part is knowing that it is over. It can't possibly be over really, can it? Laney keeps saying that the granada chapter in her life is over, that she can't possibly ever go back. And so I'm left wondering the same about myself. Could she know herself so well to face the truth of her emotions? Coud I be fooling myself into thinking that I could handle coming back? I guess it's one of those things you don't know about utnil the right time. Perhaps its one of those things when the thought of losing something is actually more distressing than losing it.
I owe so much to Laney and Sara. So much of my journtey and my internal discovery is due to what they have given me in their presence. In a way I feel like they changed what granada would've meant for me. I could've been like the other girls in API, never pushing the limit, never wandering through the albayzin alone (because it's, like, so dangerous) sticking to what is new, western, familiar, comfortable: Tantra Bar, Granada diez, Dolce Vita etc. Now that Sara is gone, I've really begun to appreciate her presence in my granada experience. As much as I always write about my adventures with Laney, I've negelected to mention sara, her beautiful pensive presence. I ahve aa wonderful memoryu of her sitting in cafe central, writing in her journal over an empty cup of cofee. There was something so genuine in the way she looks when she sees a friend. If there is something I wish to emulate from all my encounters with different personalities I
've met on this trip, it would be her genuine look of happiness and excitement when she sees a friend. That look, welcoming sweet is what I'd like to take back to hhe states with me. It's a look that says "of course I'm so happy to see you, why wouldn't I be?" It's something that I've always noted to be missing in american culture, something that I've always wished to occur more often. I think of my conversation with Tyler, the american who owns the backpacker's hostel, who asked me if I knew exactly what it was that made me dislike being in the states so much. What didn't make me fit in. The only thing I could think of was the superficiality of the culture. When someone says "hey how are you?" and just keeps walking. I remember complaining to another american about that, who simply responded with " well isn't that just a rhetorical question anyway?" And thats exactly the problem. Since when is asking how another person feels a rhetorical question? Not to idealize the spanish, but at least they say what they mean. I was in abar with one of my friends who just turned and looke me dead in the eye and said "Eres guapa, de verdad. Eres intelegente, y simpatica. De verdad" and that was that.
Walked through Lisbon with the idea of dropping laney off at a hostel. She didn't like the city. To be honest, neither did I. Had I visited Lisbon before I had lived in granada, I probably would've dug it: very new york. But it seemed kind of lost, kind of souless. And so we drove back down to spain. Crossing the boarder into spain was like coming home. All the sudden I could understand what was on the radio, I could read the names of the towns easily, I could recognize the tiny little houses and the people that lived in them. We dropped laney off at the bus station in Sevilla. Our goodbye was short, callous, as if I would see her next week. Both of us wanted it that way. I would've lost it if it had been any different. Michael and I got back in the car and sat in silence for a moment. I put on Ojos de Brujo and cried but felt a little better. We drove past the bus station and saw laney walking inside. I leaned out the window and shouted "Ole guapa! Que guapa eres!" which I imagine probably startled the whole bus station, but i didn't care. the last image I have of her was her wearing that silly hat and her huge backpack and hiking boots, smiling and waving back at me. She's a strong woman. She will be fine. She will be missed.
And so my life alone de verdad will start so shortly, and end even more quickly. Greg comes in from Germany tomorrow. I don't know how he will get a hold of me. We will see if this works out. I want to be alone but at the same time I'm terrified. It's like now that sara and Laney are gone now, I've got to take the wheel. i've got to show people how Granada can be.
I owe so much to Laney and Sara. So much of my journtey and my internal discovery is due to what they have given me in their presence. In a way I feel like they changed what granada would've meant for me. I could've been like the other girls in API, never pushing the limit, never wandering through the albayzin alone (because it's, like, so dangerous) sticking to what is new, western, familiar, comfortable: Tantra Bar, Granada diez, Dolce Vita etc. Now that Sara is gone, I've really begun to appreciate her presence in my granada experience. As much as I always write about my adventures with Laney, I've negelected to mention sara, her beautiful pensive presence. I ahve aa wonderful memoryu of her sitting in cafe central, writing in her journal over an empty cup of cofee. There was something so genuine in the way she looks when she sees a friend. If there is something I wish to emulate from all my encounters with different personalities I
've met on this trip, it would be her genuine look of happiness and excitement when she sees a friend. That look, welcoming sweet is what I'd like to take back to hhe states with me. It's a look that says "of course I'm so happy to see you, why wouldn't I be?" It's something that I've always noted to be missing in american culture, something that I've always wished to occur more often. I think of my conversation with Tyler, the american who owns the backpacker's hostel, who asked me if I knew exactly what it was that made me dislike being in the states so much. What didn't make me fit in. The only thing I could think of was the superficiality of the culture. When someone says "hey how are you?" and just keeps walking. I remember complaining to another american about that, who simply responded with " well isn't that just a rhetorical question anyway?" And thats exactly the problem. Since when is asking how another person feels a rhetorical question? Not to idealize the spanish, but at least they say what they mean. I was in abar with one of my friends who just turned and looke me dead in the eye and said "Eres guapa, de verdad. Eres intelegente, y simpatica. De verdad" and that was that.
Walked through Lisbon with the idea of dropping laney off at a hostel. She didn't like the city. To be honest, neither did I. Had I visited Lisbon before I had lived in granada, I probably would've dug it: very new york. But it seemed kind of lost, kind of souless. And so we drove back down to spain. Crossing the boarder into spain was like coming home. All the sudden I could understand what was on the radio, I could read the names of the towns easily, I could recognize the tiny little houses and the people that lived in them. We dropped laney off at the bus station in Sevilla. Our goodbye was short, callous, as if I would see her next week. Both of us wanted it that way. I would've lost it if it had been any different. Michael and I got back in the car and sat in silence for a moment. I put on Ojos de Brujo and cried but felt a little better. We drove past the bus station and saw laney walking inside. I leaned out the window and shouted "Ole guapa! Que guapa eres!" which I imagine probably startled the whole bus station, but i didn't care. the last image I have of her was her wearing that silly hat and her huge backpack and hiking boots, smiling and waving back at me. She's a strong woman. She will be fine. She will be missed.
And so my life alone de verdad will start so shortly, and end even more quickly. Greg comes in from Germany tomorrow. I don't know how he will get a hold of me. We will see if this works out. I want to be alone but at the same time I'm terrified. It's like now that sara and Laney are gone now, I've got to take the wheel. i've got to show people how Granada can be.
posted by Jessica | 11:39 AM
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