Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Leave? Who's leaving?
I feel like every time I leave my house I'm faced with another potential "last."
The last time I drive along my dear green Malecon in Miraflores.
The last time I glimpse the lit up cross in Callao across the bay.
The last time I watch drunk American students make merry at a house party.
The last time I walk through the park with the George Washington statue.
The last time I laugh with the program directors.
The last time I stand on the roof at church and look over to the Interbank lights.
The last time I explain why we don't use "fat" as a neutral description word to my English class.
The last time I have a class in Spanish in Peru with Peruvian students and a Peruvian professor.
The last time I see a good friend who rolls her eyes when I use "venir" instead of "ir."
The last time I'll see the newest seasonal add that Saga Falabella comes out with.
Basta ya con las "lasts!"
It doesn't quite feel quite real yet. It feels like I may wake up Sunday morning and Hermi will say, "Leave? You live here! What are you saying, leave? Drink your juice!"