There and Back Again

I have been rereading Harry Potter in Spanish, not Lord of the Rings (I struggled enough making it through the whole series in English, so I don't think it would be the best choice of books to read in translation), but "there and back again" feels like a pretty accurate title for this blog post.

I've missed two Sundays in a row due to preparing to leave for San Francisco and then being in San Francisco-- about 48 hours of travel time for 6 days in the city, but it was absolutely 5 billion % worth it.

I think one of the most important love affairs of my life is with the city of San Francisco.

I know it's not still quite the same city I grew up in, and even the city I explored this past week wasn't the same as the one I left behind. But even as much as things change, I still find familiar places and faces, and every time I see the city I fall in love with it all over again.

This was the view I saw of the Bay Bridge as I waited at the bus stop to go home on March 11, my last night before coming to Argentina for the first time... I remember staring at the lights and thinking dammit, San Francisco, why do you have to make me fall in love with you again right before I leave?

This was written on the bus stop that night... foreshadowing of the excessive graffiti in Argentina, and a good reminder :)

This past week was an especially meaningful one in the Bay Area because I was there with my entire dad's side of the family to mourn the loss of my grandfather/celebrate his life. I can't remember the last time I got to be with all of my Harvey cousins together, and it was... idk, I think it was the happiest I have felt in a really really long time.

Or rather, I'm not sure if happy is the right word. There were moments of joyful happiness-- my sister and one of my cousins got to witness the peak of that when they met me at the Ferry Building on my first full day back in the city, and I came up to them literally bouncing up and down and unable to stop smiling because I was so excited to be back home, by the ocean, surrounded by glorious amazing food from all over the world.

But there were also moments of intense sadness: hearing my uncle speak about my grandfather while I held my grandmother's hand, trying to process the fact that he wasn't just going to walk in at any moment; learning about the changes that happened at the school I left behind after I came to Argentina and wishing I could have stayed until the end of the school year; seeing the overwhelming stress that my dad and his brothers have had to deal with in the wake of their father's death.

So it wasn't "happy" so much as... this feeling of overflowing, limitless love for the people in my life. I know I sound cheesy as heck but the "happiest" moments of my life aren't when something really good happens, or when I get something that I want, or EVEN when I am eating one of my favorite foods... they're when I feel so much appreciation for the people around me that it feels like my body can't contain it, and I really suck at showing it or saying it in words sometimes, but it is the best thing and being with everyone in the Bay Area this weekend made me feel that way.

Especially getting to hug everyone. Being around family usually means a lot of greeting and hugs, and I'm pretty sure hugs are scientifically proven to be kind of magical.

I wasn't sure if I was going to cry at the service for my grandfather. I very rarely cry in front of anyone, and sometimes in public settings my emotions just kind of switch off. While my uncle spoke, though, he mentioned how important all of the grandkids were to our grandfather, and he listed each of us by name, and I started to tear up. When my sister sang "Let It Be," acapella, the same song she sang at my other grandfather's funeral, I definitely felt a few tears fall. But it wasn't until the end of the service when one of my cousins came and hugged me and said "I love you" that I started bawling.

I don't ugly-cry in public. Like, ever. But there have been so many emotions for so many months that I have had so little time to process, and something about that hug... it's like it created a space for all of these feelings to be real, to be felt, to be okay. I wasn't crying just because I was sad, but also because the verbal reminder of the love of my family made me feel so happy, because I was there in that moment and it was real, and because hearing someone say "I love you" and mean it meant it was okay to feel all the things. And after that I went to hug my mom and my sister and my dad, and... yeah. It's just really good, to have people who love you to hug.

I fit about as much as I possibly could into my time in SF, including dim sum, sushi, tacos, chocolate, baking, running by the ocean, playing board games with friends, going out dancing in the Castro, and even going to SF Pride:

Recognize the rainbow scarf? ;) Came to SF Pride all the way from San Lorenzo, AR

In my time in San Francisco, of course I fit in all the food... including the Argentine empanadas :P

On Monday, it was really really hard to get ready to leave again. I spent most of my 20+ hours of traveling feeling kind of sad and trying not to cry on the plane.

At least the sky was really pretty...

But when I landed in Córdoba, one of the teachers I work with, Pat, met me at the airport to pick me up, even though my flight had been delayed and it was almost 2am Argentina time.

Two Sundays ago, on Father's Day, Pat had taken me into her family and I shared a wonderful meal with them at her mother's house. Afterwards, she took me on a driving tour around the outskirts of Córdoba, and we made a short stop to play in the Saldán playground with two of her kids.

Father's Day family meal

Evening exploring in Saldán, just outside of Córdoba Capital-- this was the same place the Locro Festival took place! It looked totally different without 50+ booths making locro and thousands of people milling about and eating...

Having Pat meet me at the airport with a hug helped ease the whiplash of having been home and leaving again, and her mother was incredibly kind to take me in and have me stay in a spare bedroom for the night.

My first morning back in Córdoba, I woke up to the biggest array of breakfast food I have ever seen in Argentina:

Not pictured: scrambled eggs and toast that she was just finishing cooking, milk, and coffee. Oh, and since you can't see it very well behind the water glass, those are two pieces of chocolate cake at the back left.

Pat's mom is the most gracious host ever, and she helped me get back into the City Center in time to drop my stuff at my apartment and rush over to the high school where I had scheduled a class (why did I allow myself to schedule a class for the first day I got back?? *sigh*).

I adore the students at this school-- this was my second time with them, and we were talking about festivals from our hometowns... so, naturally, I talked about Pride.

I gave a short presentation on the history of Pride (message me for a link, if you would like to see it), then answered some questions, and then the students shared about several different festivals that take place in the Córdoba area.

After class, I rushed to the mail office to get a package sent off to the Fulbright Commission in Buenos Aires so that, hopefully, I will get my Brazil visa in time to make it to Rio in a week.

I stopped by my apartment again to grab some lunch (although all I had in the pantry was oatmeal and peanut butter and an overripe pear) and then, because I wasn't already doing enough my first day back, I went to my aerial rope class.

After rope, I grabbed some basic food essentials, rushed home for a shower, and then made my way to the bus stop to get to my regular classes.

And... well, that was it. I was, I am, back in the swing of things.

Despite how upset I felt when leaving San Francisco, it actually feels really good to be back in Córdoba. I definitely didn't feel ready for my time here to be up yet... I still feel like there is more for me to do and learn and feel here, and I want more time with the people and families that have taken me in here, too.

It was AMAZING not to have to go through that first month of confusion and adjustment again. I already knew my apartment and could just flop onto a familiar bed. I knew exactly where to go shopping and where to catch the bus for school. From my apartment to the high school to my terciary school, I was welcomed by familiar faces.

My cousin recommended that I write up a guide for the next Fulbrighter who comes here, and that is definitely something I am going to begin working on.

So here I am, back in Argentina again. We have one more week of school before our Winter Breaks, and then it's on to the second half of the school year.

I brought back some multivitamins, a bottle of 150, and I realized something...

If I eat one a day, by the time I finish this bottle, I'll be back in San Francisco...