Broken Hearted

Heartbroken. I think I'm fine and then it all hits me again. And I just feel this incredible mix of sadness, pain, loneliness, nostalgia and happiness. And calm. If granada ever gave me anything, it gave me peace. But within that peace is such pain and sadness. And happiness. I feel so mixed up, i don't even know how i should feel.

Ava sent me some pictures. And i just felt so happy. And then I thought about it. And every day that passes, it feels more and more like a dream. I look at my pictures and read my entries and it feels like it never happened. Like i made it all up. Then, every once in a while, i'll be reminded of a feeling or of a sound. Like the sound of the wind whipping the liner off of our tent in portugal. Or the sound of the tissue lady yelling her sales pitch " Yo tengo pañuelooooos!!!!. Or the feeling of being surrounded by 40 people from 30 different countries all speaking spanish and watching Matt light fireworks off of Laney's roof. Or the smell of the dirty breath of the city: a smell so completely different than New York City, a smell of fruit, people, spices, dog, tea, incense; of heat so unbearable and a breeze so thankful. And then there were the birds. The birds of granada fly in no particular direction. they dart in desperate and chaotic circles, barely above the rooftops of the city, barely missing eachother. I used to walk and see them, and immediately think of Lorca, Falla, the Reyes Catolicos, and the those that died in the battles for control of the city. Granada is a haunted city, the birds know.

I think of these things, and all i can do is cry. because I don't know what else to do.

I think of my early days in granada. those that seem most dreamlike: did i really perform poetry in a teteria? Did i really dress up in costume and run around Cadiz like a lunatic for 2 days? Did it really snow in Granada? Was there once a time when I was too scared to walk those streets alone? Did i really go to a massive rave in the middle of a dried up river bed in the mountians? Did these things really happen? Why are they so hazy and yet so very clear? How can this be?

I fell in love with a city. And I know in my heart, that even if i do go back, it won't be the same. But when I think about it, i don't want it to be the same. I went to spain a different person. It changed me. The person I am now will have new and different experiences in spain. It's just the way things go.

When I was a little kid, I used to think that people's souls were like blank canvases, and that every experience would leave a splash of color. And so when we died, God would judge our lives worthwile by the beauty of our souls.
Granada's color is orange. An orange brillant and dark and rich, mystical and ethnic, familiar and happy.
Consider my soul orange.

Te quiero, Granada

Despedido:
I.
Sal del desierto, busca el mar
el mar, la mar
no tengo lugar
the language may change
the question remains the same
my answer escapes
shy blushing
glancing sideways
they won't believe you either
el sur es un desierto que llora mientras canta
canta llora
llora canta
mi alma, mi corazon
they won't believe you
even if you knew
Flee the desert
seek the sea
they never believe me
when i say i don't know where i'm from
soy extranjera
a forienger once more
a stranger in my own land
llora canta
canta llora
mi alma, mi corazon
i too wander
searching for somewhere
to long for

II.
If i had a daughter
She would be named Tristeza
tristeza for the love i'd feel
tristeza for the pain
because sadness is the space in my soul
left to be filled with love
the deeper the sadness
the greater the love
tristeza
si tuviera hija
se llamaría tristeza
because the world is suffering
because the world if full
of love.
------
Then a woman said, Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseperable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
-Kahlil Gibran-



*Te quiero, Graná.*

mi alma, mi corazon

It's the weirdest feeling being home. I'm torn between two cities, and i think i will feel this way for a long time. My time in Granada completely changed my life. I no longer see myself on a set and continuous path towards the future of living in some city somewhere, being a psychologist, getting married and having this safe secure lifestyle. Maybe it willhappen like that. Maybe it won't. But the point is, it doesn't have to. I can pick up one day and just go, there's nothing that ever really holds us back from just leaving. Sure, our friends, our family, people who care about us, but if they know us well enough, they will know we need to go. Just to get out for a little while, to step out of the hard shells of our lives and see the world momentarily from a nother view. It is only when we leave ourselves behind that we truely understand who we are. Granada helped me discover certain things about myself, about the way i see other people, the way i see the world and the way I see my self.
I know have a new found interest in countries that previously were "scary". Countries that our president calls "Axis of Evil". I am not interested in politics. I am interested in people. I am interested because I have met and had conversations with people from Syria, from Siberia, from Lebanon, from Israel, from Bosnia, from Morrocco. I can't say I understand them, because no one can really understand fully the way another culture is without living there and experiencing it first hand. No, i certainly don't understand them, nor do i fully understand their countrys politics. What I have come to understand, however, is that the bonds of humanity really do extend to every differnt country. Sounds obvious, sounds stupid. But the next time that know-it-all preppy asshole or some anarchist political punk kid says "there will never be peace in the middle east, we should just blow it all up" I'll be ready for them. In the US, we are so isolated that we forget the humanity of others. Iraq? Iran? Afghanistan? Syria? We hear all about the terrorists and radicals that come from these countries. We hear about all the anti-american sentiment, we hear about how they mistreat the women, how they strap bombs to themselves and kill everything and everyone. We talk about these countries as if they were all desert and warzone. We don't realize that we are talking about people's homes. Peoples actual homes with kitchens, and beds and tvs and chairs. Filled with families. Filled with people who are just trying to survive, people who are apart from their government. It occured to me while talking with a man from Siberia, who immediately wrote me off as soon as I mentioned I was american. "we're enemies" he said. And though its to be expected, it just really bugged me that someone could just lump me in with my government like that. And thats when it occured to me. As americans, we do that all the time to people.Not even just to people from other countries: we do it to ourselves. We lump anyone with brown skin into this category of "danger!" I mentioned to my mom that I wanted to go to Lebanon to learn Arabic and she freaked out. Lebanon is too dangerous, the people there are different than us. But the point is that they aren't really that different. Underneath the cultural differences, the political restrictions, the warzone and the danger, people are just people.
And so now I don't really know what I want to do with my life. Granada gave me the opportunity to leave everything I knew behind, to put myself in a place so foriegn that even I was a stranger to myself. It broke me apart, and helped me sort out the pieces. And now I am left glueing myself back together, looking at individual parts, keeping the ones I like, changing the ones I don't. It's so strange to be back in my old room. I look around and I don't really fully understand the girl who lived there before. Timid, shy, scared of other people, scared of herself. Unsure of what to do with her life, looking for security and acceptance. That was who I was. And I don't know why I was that way. But this is how I am now. Not completely different (I'm still a little shy, still overly polite and respectful, still softspoken) but different enough that my mother have noticed a change. I guess I just grew up a bit more. There are somethings I am more sure of than ever before: 1. Music is an important part of my life. I was silly to leave my violin at home and silly to have quit playing jazz. 2. Many aspects of american culture make me uncomfortable. These aspects are obvious (the size of everything, the point of view of people, the media, the politics etc). 3. Many aspects of american culture make me feel better. These aspects are also obvious (the music, the youth movements, non-profit organizations etc). 3. I must pursue a job that involves international travel. I love meeting people too much to stick to one country. 4. I need to be on my own for many more years before getting in a relationship with anyone. As much as I enjoy being around people, it has been made very clear to me that my independence is most important. Therefore, I need to find a way to live independently and comfortably before I let someone else in my life.
When some people go abroad, it's just a vacation. It's time to go get drunk with american kids in bars in another country. For others, it's a time to learn academics in another system, time to go to a school with an international name, to learn a language in a country. For me, it was much much more than that. I realize now that it was more about meeting people than anything else. To make connections with people who I would have never met. To see perspectives of those whose perspective is ignored by the american public. To put myself in uncomfortable situations, to take risks, to ask questions and seek after something that may only be a feeling, or may be destiny. Studying and living abroad was like looking at myself through a mirror, identifying, observing and accepting all aspects of my personality, the good and the bad.
One thing is most certain. I have taken a bit of granada back with me in my heart. It gave me an experience that I will never forget, a poitn of view which will never leave my eyes and a voice which is much more confident and sure of itself. I know now more than ever that I can make a difference on the international community. I know now that I need to not give up on american society, that my job as a student activist is desperately needed in this world. I am excited for the opportunity to raise money again this year at Drop Beats Not Bombs, I'm excited to register people to vote, I'm excited to show people that there still is hope for our world, our hope is our communal humanity.
I'm rambling.
Today I went to a job interview. I got the job. Selling gym membershiips.Surprisingly it looks much better than that disasterous promotional modeling shit from new york city. Actually get to use my brain this time, which is awesome. I emailed a woman from the Berks Social Work group and hopefully will be able to help fight for migrant worker's rights (aka make sure they get treated fairly and paid on time/enough.) We'll see of that works out. When I sit still i think about granada, spain and all the wonderful people I met there. It feels like a dream. It feels like both forever ago and just yesterday. at the same time. I am so afraid i will forget. But something tells me that things like this you can't forget.
I feel a bit like christopher columbus. Conquering the West. Sailing into the unknown future and uncharted territory, unknowing of what the future might hold, but charging full speed ahead into the abyss. Although I'll avoid savagely butchering thousands and thousands of people. Sorry, had to throw that in.

In the Madrid Airport

Its no secret that the US and Spain are completely different cultures. I thought, whatever, I’m from the US, I should be used to this culture. I thought my study abroad experience would be completely cultur shock free. How silly I was to actually believe I could re-enter a country like the US and not feel it’s paranoia. Seriously, you don’t realize how paranoid they actually are until you’re awaay from it for a while. I thought I’d be safe in a spanish airport. Silly me. I wasn’t spared tat all. In line to check my bags and retrieve my boarding pass, the security guy starts asking me questions. No pasa nada, its notmal security for international flights, right? Wrong. The questions got more and more interrogative, from “How long were you in Spain for?” to “ I need the exact street address of the place you stayed in spain, the exact dates of travel, the full names of the people you travelled with, I need proof of your studentship in granada I need proof of your studentship in the US what is the name of your college. If you were studying in spain, why didn’t you buy a round trip ticket ? Why didn’t you know how long you wanted to stay in spain for? Who were you living with? Did any family members visit you. Why don’t youhave any student ID? Did you work when you were in spain? Do you work in the us?” and on and on. And of course, silly me, I thought being an american citizen with a valid american passport and a visa that won’t expire until next moth was all I needed to travel internationally. It didn’t occur to me to bring official university of granada transcript, or my hamilton college student ID. Apparently my lack of “proof” was sufficient enough for them to let me on the fucking plane, so they decide d to search me, and all of my bags. And when I search, I mean SEARCH. Every piece of colthing or random article I had in all 4 of my bags was inspected, exrayed and god knows whatelse. I wish I had a backbone, I wish I would’ve said something like “I’m sorry I didn’t know I needed an official transcrip to get back into my own country” but I didn’t. With every article the more angry I got. I can’t believe how paranoid that country is. Furthermore, I can’t believe that it’s supposed to be my country. If this is how they treat me, I can only imagine how they treat foriegners. What every happened to innocent until proven guilty? That guy went at me like I had “terrorist” plastered on my forehead. And so I must say that I am completel y and 100% culture shocked. I’m sitting here infront of my boarding gate “B25” and I swear to god the only thing that’s keeping me from making a break for it is the fact they already checked my bags and I don’t know how to get out of this fucking huge airport. What am I doing here? I don’t want to go back to the US. I really haven’t stopped crying since I got to the airport. It’s been 4 hours. People are looking at me like I’m crazy. I’m sure I look crazy.
There are so many beautiful things that I’m going to miss about spain. The cab driver fivured it all out for me this morning, and though it was just a joke, I realized that it was exactly what I wanted. The conversation went something like (translated):
“You going far?”
“Yeah, the United States”
“Wow, that’s really far. Why are you leaving”
“I don’t know. To finish school”
“School? What are you studying?”
“Psychology”
“That’s so great. You don’t like granada?”
“Oh man, I love it here. I don’t want to leave.”
“That boy who helped you with your bags, he’s your boyfriend?”
“No, we’re just friends”
“Friends not boyfriend?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend”
“Why not?
“I don’t know. I don’t want one“
“He’s american too?”
“Half french. He lives in Morocco”
“So you’re american, eh? But what are you really?”
“My family is italian”
“Italian american. That’s so great. My name’s Antonio, that’s an Italian, spanish, portugese name. Is it an american name?”
“There are americans with the name antonio if that’s what you mean.”
“that’s great. You going to come back to granada”
“Yes!”
“Well my friend Jessica, this is what you’re going to do. You’re going to finish studying psychoilogy, you’re going to come to granada, work, find a nice granadino boy, get married and have a wonderful life.”
“ha!”
“No really. Work first then marriage. It’s better that way.”
“Yeah I think so too.”
So here I am sitting in this airport, in a terminal surrounded by americans speaking english and I just feel really uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. I don’t know why, I don’t know exactly what it is, but I just don’t feel like one of them. And it’s such a strange feeling because I am so obviously one of them. Who are these people, and what are they doing here? To some people it’s just a vacation, to me it was so much more than that. I know I shouldn’t judge, that I can’t tell anything about a person’s life or experiences by the way they act in publilc, but I feel like I’ve picked up a bit of spanish culture , or maybe it’s just that I’ve lost a bit of american culture. Eitherway I feel alienated in both cultures. It reminds me of the flamenco song laney and I used to sing together “No tengo lugar, no tengo paisaje, lo menos tengo patria.” Sometimes I really feel like that. Now is one of those times. I’m terrified about what will happen when I go back. I really want to make a break for it. Go to Malaga, extend my visa for forever and just find a house to live in in some beach town like tarifa or some pueblo somewhere ourside of granada. Or maybe in one of the pueblos of the alpujarras or sierras. It’s like Rob, the guy who I met in the hostel said when he first got here “This city is perfect. Why am I not living here?” Why am I not living here?

Last day

Ran into Ana (the flamenco teacher) on the street on my way to her studio. Needed to say goodbye. Spent the whole afternoon with her. Talked about leaving. She really understood what I mean when I say that I don’t really feel at home anywhere, but granada is the closest thing to it. It was like all of my life something was missing and when I arrived in granada, it helped me figure some things out. But I don’t know if I got it all solved yet. In fact I’m pretty sure that I have a lot more to discover. Met some of her new students. I’m so envious of them, they have all of granada to explore. I let them in on a couple of things about granada, where to go who to meet etc. it was really funny to talk to them because they all thought my spanish was really good (it’s not). There was one girl who couldn’t understand ana and the shock of it all made her really uncomfortable, so much so that she started to cry. I told her not to worry, that when I first moved in, I couldn’t understand anyone either. “Poco a poco” is definitely the key phrase.. It’s weird to think that I used to be like that, too ashamed to speak, too scared to ask someone to esplain. Now I’m just really more open about it, because I really want to learn. I’d say it was a beautiful way to spend my last hours of daylight in granada.
I can't believe tomorrow I will be in the states. I want to hug this city, to make it feel my presence before I go. But my arms aren't big enough, and I know that I will miss it more than it will miss me.

Last night

Wandered around all the great spots of granada and said goodby to the city.We went to the mirador de san nicolas and watched night fall. For some reason, I couldn’t stop crying. Stephane and his friend were there, and so I was really embarassed to cry infront of them. “I usually don’t cry, I don’t know whats wrongw ith me, I just can’t stop” I tried to explain. Stephane’s friend just looked at me and said “maybe this is the first time you really felt fsad
Went to the Hostal to say goodbye to Tyler and some of the employees I kind of know (but not really). I don’t really know why I went, but I’m glad I did. I don’t know tyler that well, but I really enjoyed talking with him. There are only a few people in this world you can actlaully converse with. Converse as in back and forth questioning, not just dull active listening. Challenging ideas, looking for consistency. I wish I had net him earlier in my stay in granada. For some reason, even though it was irrelevent, speaking to him just made me feel better. He created his own life away from the states, and it turned out wonderfully. Why couldn’t I do the same? The world really is just a plane ride away.
Found Stephane and his friend a little later, while wandering by myself infront of the cathedral. There was the usual crowd of hippies botelloning with guitars and girls dancing and everyone clapping. And the crying commenced. We went to the tree plaza in Realejo (placeta de carlos cano) and I thought about how that grafitti tree, although it is composed of two destructive things (an abandoned house and grafitti) It can still be something beautiful. I want to be like that tree.
At about 3am we hiked up to the top of the Alhambra. Saw a park I’ve never seen before, was captivated by the fountains (running water on a humid night will do that). Walked around the public grounds of the Alhambra and suddenly realized how much I’ve changed. Sitting in the exact spot I sat when I first got to granada, looking at the city and sacromonte, my old feelings of indimidation, and unworthyness had transformed themseves to a feeling uf undeniable love. I have literally fallen in love with a city. My heart is about to be broken and I can't do anything about it. When the wind blows a certain driection, you can hear the echoing palmas and the songs of flamenquistas in the caves. It is the sound that has been in my head all my life..

loose ends

Woke up feeling strangely content. It's the third day in the row in which I've woken up almost alright with the idea of going home. Today is wednesday, my last wednesday in Granada. I feel kind of like I'm emerging from a wonderful dream, happy that it happened, sad that it's over. Remembering funny things about the last days of my friends: the party at Sara and Laney's house where we invited everyone we've ever met and they all showed up, where Matt lit fireworks off of the terrace and we all thought the house was going to burn down, when the cops came they just looked at us and rolled their eyes... The BBQ at amandas, where although there were only 4 or 5 americans, it was the most american party i've been to. where we had a danish man singing american blues and tom waits covers. Where we had a french cook burning the hotdogs...Rachel teaching the spanish girls how to belly dance, the bar where we switched outfits halfway through the night, where we wandered down the street and picked up some pijo guys singing flamenco and drinking gin, where we went to tantra bar but only stayed 5 minutes before it closed, when we got shwarma, ditched the gin drinking flamenco singing pretty boys and rachel corrected the Shwarma employee's arabic... Salsa dancing with Kenji...Icecream with Kim.... Dinner with Gustavo... Touring Portugal with Laney... all these wonderful endings that perfectly tie up the loose ends. And then I realize, I am the last loose end. There is no one left but me. Of course I have new friends here now, wonderful people I have met, but the chapter of "study abroad" in my life had officially closed on May 20th when everyone else left. I'm glad I stayed because I know now that Granada will always be here, even when all the people I've met are gone, there will always be more people to meet and become friends with. Granada is one of those cities that has a strange magnetism. There's this field of psychology that studies the way in which things vibrate. For example, the color orange vibrates at a higher frequency than the color blue. Also people can vibrate at frequencies: those who vibrate at similar frequencies attract eachother. Perhaps cities can vibrate too. i think it means something that we all met here. And so I've come to the decision that I have to go home. Either go home or stay forever. One thing is for sure: I'm coming back and I will stay longer.