I'll base this part off of my photos. My last week in Peru I didn't go to class. I went out with friends, enjoyed myself, spent as much time as I could with my favorite people.
Let's see..the following photos are from a day's visit to Barranco, which included lunch, sightseeing, and some last minute souvenir shopping.
Leche de tigre |
Beautiful (but expensive) paintings |
Some more photos from my final days:
Feeding pigeons in the center of Lima |
One of my favorite views strangely enough |
Swinging in the park |
It was really fun actually |
My cheesecake from my last dinner |
My last dinner in Peru |
On the night of the 27th, we headed out to the airport a little later than expected due to traffic, getting there about 10:30, but it didn't end up making a difference, we had plenty of time. I checked two large suitcases (at no extra cost despite the half kilo overweight) and had a backpack and duffel bag to carry on. About 8 other exchange students had also shown up at the airport despite the late hour to say goodbye. We all sat and talked and ate mcdonalds around a few of the tables in the food court of the airport in my last few hours. At 11 something (I don't remember what time it was) me and Alexis (another girl leaving that night) decided it was time to say goodbye and go through to security. I kept it light, gave hugs and "see you soon"s to the students, said goodbye to my family members, and got a nice polaroid of me and my two best exchange friends Connor and Emilie. I stood with Connor and Emilie while Alexis finished her goodbyes. She was very teary and I was fairly calm. I said to my friends "As long as I turn off my brain and don't think and don't remember, it doesn't hurt and I don't cry". Then I ended it pretty swiftly, deciding not to prolong the goodbye, and gave a final wave and walked through the line to get to security. I blew a final kiss and crossed over to security. We went through security easily and paid two dollars because of the two days we had overused our visas. Then Alexis and I said goodbye and went to our separate gates (I was heading to Atlanta and she to Miami). When I was finally alone (well, surrounded by lots of tourists and airport staff) I felt very strange and felt a few sharp urges to cry but managed to keep myself together. I felt so, so, so different from all the people around me (I almost felt superior to them, as shallow as that sounds). For some reason I felt angry at all of them. These were tourists. They came for a week or so, took their photos, bought their souvenirs, and then left without leaving much of a trace and without making any ties or bonds. Leaving didn't hurt them because they hadn't made any connections and weren't really leaving anything behind. I had a feeling that most of the people sitting at that gate with me couldn't relate to what I had done or how I was feeling. They didn't know that I had just said goodbye to my old life. I'm sure there's a word or term for feeling negativity towards people that haven't been what you've been through. Or maybe it's a really simple word that's used commonly and I just can't think of it.
When they called my section I got up and they did a quick search of the bags (not just to mine, to everyones) and I got on the plane. And it took off. The plane finally lifted off the soil and in that second maybe my heart cracked a little (I just started crying as I'm writing this). I left Peruvian soil and felt so strange and a bit hollow. We were up in the air and it was over. My exchange was over. Just like that it was OVER. I had known this day would come since the very beginning and the countdowns had taken place and my last day had ended and goodbyes had been said and I'd left my friends and my house and yet it didn't seem quite real that it was over. It seemed sudden despite all the preparation. I was just sitting on the plane and all of a sudden that thought came to me, that my exchange had ended, and I couldn't believe it, and I don't really know how else to explain it.
My flight was horribly uncomfortable. It was an overnight flight, 1:30 AM to 9:00 AM and I would have liked to sleep as much as I could but my genius self couldn't figure out how to recline the seat (and even if I had managed to recline it I don't think it would have made a difference). Despite my pants, boots, shirt, over shirt, and blanket, I was freezing. It was seriously so cold. I watched part of a movie (Shawshank Redemption). Shivered and clutched hopelessly at my blanket. Attempted to fold/bend/roll myself into comfortable positions so I could sleep and failed miserably. Probably annoyed the crap out of my seat partner with all my moving and slouching and curling sideways on the seat.
We finally landed in Atlanta and the sun was shining. For some reason I had to claim my luggage and recheck it (I've never had to do that before) even though I had a connecting flight. Maybe that's the norm but it was new to me. Security staff with drug sniffing dogs circled around us as we waited by the luggage carousel. I had to get a luggage cart and struggled to get my two massive suitcases onto it. Then after a short walk I rechecked them. I went through some confusing security (it's astounding the difference in security between the united states and south america) and finally got through. At one point a man in security (while looking at my passport) asked me why I'd been in south america. I said that I'd gone for a year for foreign exchange. And he said "were you brave?" and I said "yes" and he waved me onward. I lugged my heavy duffel bag and backpack and found the train. I rode it for a bit until the terminal for my next flight. A woman on the train commented that she liked my braid.
Something funny that I noticed while I was walking to my gate was the various southern restaurants that I didn't recognize. Chickfilet or however the heck you spell it. One restaurant that sold chicken and biscuits which for some reason I found hilarious. I could tell I was in America just by the way people dressed, specifically the young people.
I got to my gate and was confused by the signage and had to ask if this was the gate for Minneapolis. One lady said she didn't know (my thoughts *why are you sitting at this gate if this isn't your gate and you don't know where it goes*) and then two guys informed me that it indeed was the gate for Minneapolis.
I sat down and waited. I decided not to get anything to eat, I didn't feel hungry anyway. I boarded and slept a tad. I was confused because I thought it was going to be an hour long flight and it turned out to be two (something to do with crossing a time zone, I don't know, I was confused). After the plane landed in Minneapolis I was became increasingly aware of the fact that within a very short amount of time I'd be with my family after 11 months.
When I got off the plane I came to the realization that I had absolutely no idea where I was meeting up with my family. I decided to follow the signs and get my luggage and figure it out from there. I walked down to the baggage area and was a bit embarrassed when I tried to pull a luggage cart out from it's line only to finally look up and see that you had to pay for them. I was a bit angered at that. I only had twenties and peruvian money and had no idea how I was going to lug my 50 kilos of luggage plus duffel bag and backpack to wherever it was I had to go. I was getting only slightly panicked at my point. I had to get a hold of my mom to figure out where they were and tell them to come meet me. I pulled out my phone and wasn't surprised that I couldn't make a call (peruvian phone, peruvian service, american soil). I decided to overcome the awkwardness and ask a gentleman who was standing nearby if I could use his phone. He handed it over and I turned around and dialed and held it up to my ear and had waited no more than 8 seconds when I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned around and there was my family! And I hugged my mom and saw my dad and my siblings and they had balloons and they all greeted me and there were a few tears and I handed back the man's phone.
My family and I made the long drive back to Rice Lake, stopped at the house to drop off my bags and change, and then headed out for lunch at Culver's (I'd been looking forward to that lunch for months). That night I gave them all their gifts and talked and told stories for a long time, until my throat hurt.
And now I've been back for 3 weeks. Things have been good. I have stayed in contact with just a few people. I feel fine most of the time, things are normal, and to put it bluntly, I'm not as depressed as I thought I'd be. Well, as long as I don't sit down and close my eyes and reminisce and think about all my beautiful memories, I'm fine. I think I'm doing pretty well because I'm pretty set on returning. And by 'pretty set' I actually mean 'it's actually happening and no one's going to stop me'. I'll be back to visit and I'll be with my friends again (minus my exchange friends..) and I'll do the things I used to do...
I'll sit and pet the cats and coo over the sweet kittens and bask in the sun in Parque Kennedy.
I'll walk from one end of Costa Verde to the other, then do it again while Eduardo pushes me on his skateboard and the wind is whipping through my hair and the second before every crack in the sidewalk I'm scared that I'll fall but I'm grinning from ear to ear.
I'll watch the lights show through the jumping fountains at parque de las aguas and maybe I'll buy some hot chocolate if it's cold.
I'll hop on a combi and fight for a seat and hand over my sol fare and wrench open the window so I can watch the buildings as they go by.
I'll eat lunch in the food court at La Rambla and see a movie in the big theater.
I'll drink Inca Cola and eat choripan dipped in aji, and salchipapa with ketchup and a fried egg, and picarones and alfajores and arroz con leche.
I'll walk around Real Plaza, and Jockey, and Open Plaza, eat ice cream from 4D, and have a ginormous Bembos burger.
I'll sit in the plaza and look at the Presidential Palace and people watch in Plaza Mayor.
I'll swing and play on the play set in the park behind my school even though it's meant for toddlers and I'll have the time of my life while doing it.
I'll eat pollo a la braza from Norky's or Rocky's or maybe I'll pop into Papa John's with Andre to surprise Eduardo while he's working.
I'll sit in 'nuestro lugar' just to bask in the memories and watch people bike by and remember everything that happened there.
I'll go to parties and dance and laugh and sing along to the music (well, to the parts I know).
I'll go to our special booth in McDonalds on Guardia Civil and I'll have some chicken nuggets because that's how it always was.
I'll visit Colegio Santa Rosa de Lima and look at the wall and see that blasted plaque and see GIRGER PINKERTON and I'll laugh even though it still hurts a little.
I'll walk the routes I used to walk and I'll take the buses I used to take and I'll meet up with the people I always used to hang out with and it will all be great again except that it won't ever be exactly the same, something will be different, because I won't be an exchange student anymore and never, ever again will I do any of these things as an exchange student, even if I come back to visit a billion times, I can't ever recreate that. And that makes me really, really sad (and now I'm crying again). Even if I hated the curfew, I will still miss leaping off my bus and sprinting down the street to get to my house in time. Even if school bored me half to death, I'll still miss my plaid skirt and tall socks and laughing with my classmates and I'll especially miss sitting on the hot clay tiles with Emilie and Tami and Victor while we soak up the sun. Even if I didn't love the food, I'll still miss having most of those dishes on the table (even if I wouldn't eat them it's nice that they're always there to remind me it's Peru) and the true Peruvian feeling of ceviche, picarones, causa, papa a la huancaina, and arroz con leche. And I know that mostly everyone reading this won't really understand and they won't know the places I'm talking about but it would warm my heart a little bit if someone who read this does know those spots and maybe they'll be there and they'll remember this and they'll remember me and it'll be almost as if I left a trace. It makes me so sad to think I'll never be in Peru again as an exchange student and it won't be the same, but I just have to think "maybe when I go back it will be even better". I have to believe that.
Te amo Peru y te amo Lima y en este momento me siento mas triste que he sentido desde que deje de pisar tierra peruana. Tengo muchas lagrimas pero se que es porque tengo tantos hermosos recuerdos y por eso debo de ser agradecida por siempre. Para el resto de mi vida, podre acordarme de mi hermoso ano en Peru, desde el momento que llegue hasta el momento que me fui, tendre miles y miles y miles de recuerdos hermosos para llenarme el corazon y por eso te agradezco Peru, me cambiaste y me diste una nueva vida y hiciste que me crezca el corazon y no se como lo hiciste pero ahora soy diferente y mi corazon esta bien lleno (y mis ojos tambien de lagrimas) y nunca te podre agradecer suficiente. Estare esperando para el momento cuando estoy en tu tierra de nuevo. Con todo mi amor, Ginger (o Girger si me conoces asi).
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