 |
| The neighborhood where I spent my final 4 days |
The final day in the desert. I rubbed my eyes from sleep in
the quiet adobe house belonging to Conejo and Klaus. I couldn’t believe it was
time to move on – but I know if I didn’t, I’d regret not seeing the rest of the
places I’d set out to originally. I let my mind float back to the evening
before – Conejo letting me in to the house after my dinner in town, going over
to their landlady’s house for hot wine and soup, proceeding to spend the
evening laughing at Conejo’s incredible miming skills while Ely (his landlady)
and I pretended to be actresses in this little skit with him, listened to Ely’s
friends play guitar, tambourine, and sing, dancing salsa until Klaus came home
around midnight. Sigh. The house had been filled with so much joy, I was almost
sad to go to bed.
Sigh again. Happy that Klaus had the day off from work, and
my bus didn’t leave San Pedro until 8 that night, I made the decision to enjoy
every single last moment (it was not lost on me that I’d been having a lot of
‘last moments’ lately, what with leaving City Year and Milwaukee just 2-3 weeks
prior).
Klaus and I enjoyed a final coffee and breakfast together (I
think you can still call it breakfast if it’s after noon but it’s your first
meal of the day, right?), and then I set off at his behest to the San Pedro bus
station to buy my boleto for the trip
to Santiago (long story short, there were very few direct buses from the desert
to Valparaiso, so I had to connect in Santiago). Naturally, the office of the
bus company I needed was closed until 4 PM, so I biked into town, bought a
6-pack of Escudo, and biked back to
the house. It occurred to me how out of shape I was – and how thankful I was
I’d rented a bike for my last few days in MKE – I had to get off and walk the
bike the last block. It’s the altitude, I told myself to assuage my conscience.
I met Klaus’ friend Gonzalo back at the house, and watched
the rest of the documentary Garbage Man
with him while Klaus did laundry (my laundry included, thank goodness – I was
starting to stink all over) and called friends to come over for a barbeque
later that evening. My last few hours consisted of another trip to the bus
station, ATM, and corner store, playing soccer as the sun went down with Nico,
Ely’s son, Conejo, Klaus, and Gonzalo, eating 4-5 different meat
mini-sandwiches, and enjoying beer and laughs with everyone above (except for
Nico, he’s only 13). 7:30 rolled around faster than I wanted (but as fast as I
knew it would), and I had to say my final goodbyes to everyone. I thanked Ely
for her hospitality, Conejo for everything
(this kid was seriously doing amazing things and is only 19), Gonzalo for
chatting with me, and Klaus “drove” me to the bus station on his bike, ending
our time together just as it began. I knew the tears would come before they
did.
Goodbyes are a terrible thing – they signal the end, they
feel so final. Even as you assure the other person this isn’t the end, this
isn’t final, we will see each other
again, there’s a part of you that always wonders, but what if it is? He wiped my tears away with one hand, and with
the other, handed me a little crystal, 2/3 the size of my pinky. He instructed
me to use it to cleanse myself of bad energy, and to set it in the moonlight to
cleanse the crystal. I thanked him over and over again for everything, pulled
the back of my hand across my eyes one more time, hefted my backpack onto my
shoulders, and boarded the bus.
No comments:
Post a Comment