Stuck between two worlds

So I've only been in Newark Airport now for about 40 minutes and already its been enough to make me feel uncomfortable. I just can't get over how, what's the word I'm looking for - efficient - things are. I mean my goodness, I was off the plane, through the passport check, received my luggage, through customs, rechecked my luggage, through the safety check, and had a Starbucks white mocha in my hand before my flight had even been scheduled to land. What's with that? I spent more time yesterday waiting in a line moving slower than molasses to change money at Western Union than I spent waiting in those 6 lines all combined.

And aside from things being fast and expensive, they're big. I mean I ordered the medium sized mocha and its almost twice the size of the large coffee at Juan Valdez or Oma. Its like everything here is supersized without even having to ask for it to be. I didn't realize how little things like that would stand out so much, even after only 4 months.

To top it all off, my first sighting of the US was cold rain and gray skies in Newark and I couldn't resist thinking "eww" and how nice and sunny it must be in Cartagena right now.

It's really happening. I'm wishing my final farewells (for this time anyways) and trying to take in as much of this relaxed atmosphere as I can while warding off the the evil stresses that are fighting to take hold.

I feel as if I'm being pulled by opposing forces - the desire to stay and the want for more. As with all goodbyes, this one is bittersweet and it was always going to be hard. It just feels as if having my time cut 6 weeks short leaves me with a lot more questions and hasty goodbyes.

Oddly enough, I'm almost packed. And even stranger, it all fits in my suitcases. Due, no doubt, to the fact that I'm leaving bits and pieces behind, replaced by the new things I've picked up along the way. I guess that could be symbolic of life though.

Packing and repacking

After 4 months stocked full of valuable experiences, both good and bad, the journey is coming to an early end. Visa problems, broken expectations, and the great weighing process has brought me to a decision I never would have seen coming - the decision to leave.

I'm struggling with what this all means on so many different levels, but I know in my heart that I am doing the best I can and making difficult decisions in hopes of growing.

And so, here I go packing up 4 months - a whole semester's worth- of my life here and I can't help but being reminded of the fact that I have done this so many times in the past 3 years. I feel like my life is constantly being packed and unpacked. And strangely enough, I'm kind of getting sick of it and I find myself craving some sense of permanence in my seemingly temporal life.

As a kid I lived out of suitcases and duffle bags. Mom's house this weekend, Dad's house next. Most of the time now I don't even bother to unpack. Pulling neatly folded clothes out of drawers is stranger than shaking out the wrinkles while trying to piece outfits together from an incomplete wardrobe. But none of this has ever really bothered me before. Afterall, 13 years is far longer than it takes to become accustomed to most things in life.

But for whatever reason, I feel like I kind of want to move onto the next phase of my life. Where I can actually establish my own life and feel like I have a chance to settle rather than temporarily occupy a certain space. Unfortunately, I have 2.5 months of bouncing between homes in Rochester, and at least one more year of school left to look forward to where I will continue to be packing and unpacking the bits and pieces of my life.