I've been back for a month now; it hardly feels like I've spent 28 nights in bed in Medford, but the calendar doesn't lie I suppose. I'm standing on a crowded Monday morning T (subway). Its the usual clutter of professionals on their way to work, reading books and papers, listening to their ipods, and glued to their kindles. Of course, the T is delayed this morning, causing a bit of a silent panic, and you wouldn't realize the tension unless you watched people's legs fidgeting from my view in a valued seat among the standing train-goers.
Davis, Porter, Harvard, Central, MIT, MGH, Park st, and then a transfer passed Boylston, Arlington, and ending at Copley. Then I walk 7 minutes on Newbury St, one of the liveliest shopping districts in Boston, to L'aroma, the cafe at which I am working for the summer. Any tourist to the area would be wowed by the culture and history that enlivens each of these areas, but as I pass by them on my morning T ride, they seem only normal to me, still incredible places, but normal.
After work, I go running with a friend around the Charles River that runs through Boston. I try to ask a different friend every day to make sure I'm up to date on the lives of each. So, in a 2 week period, I have quite a variety of running partners.
Then I make dinner and find an activity for the night before winding down. No 3 AM library sessions on summer days. Everyone is on the 9-5 schedule now. This fact means that weekend are valued highly. I've spent my Saturdays here mud racing in Amesbury, attending my cousin's wedding with Geordie in NorCal, and backpacking in the White Mountains in New Hampshire.
On the more "regular" week days, some nights are particularly enthralling: an Ethiopian dinner out at Addis, a late night visit to the pub, a picnic, we even went to watch WWE wrestling, live from TD Garden last night. Other evenings are the perfect summer mixture of social activity and relaxation; something along the lines of cooking dinner and watching a movie with the house, working on my collage, or having heart-to-hearts with geordie. These nights I'm reminded why I came to Tufts for the summer, to be surrounded by activity and still feel at peace and ease.
Funny to think that my life one month ago was so drastically different in so many ways. I think back on those 5 months so fondly. It's not that I wish I were there, because I know, at this point in my life, I belong at Tufts; this is where God has placed me. It's that I wish, with every part of my being, that I could visit my life in Cape Town on one of my "highly valued" weekends or on a day off from work. I wish that I could see my friends there and explain to them how much they mean to me and how much more I understand that now that I'm not with them. It's painful to think that I may never see them again, and, I must say, I struggle to cope with the idea of moving on from one's abroad experience like so many people seem to do; if I lost touch with my life in Cape Town, I should think I'd lose touch with myself, since that life shaped who I am now.
So "how is it going?" Well, life is beautiful; I really am so blessed. I'm happy to be home and I am more than content with my new normal. And, more than ever I miss friends from CT, but in the best way possible, in the way that reaffirms His plan when He brought me there. I miss them because they made me the best version of myself, and I wish they were here to see how they've changed my American life.
Here's to a new chapter. Cheers.
