So here I am. Sitting in my new apartment, English music playing through my window, the water just in front of me, and the city behind. A new life. A new culture. Just a girl trying to find herself in a big city. I think that's from something. I understand it now.
These past two weeks have been filled with walking, office work, diversity trainings, learning about grants, revamping our entire teacher-training initiative (in a good way, though challenging), too much English, craziness with the apartment and electricity bill, early-childhood shenanigans, free sangrias, watching way too many shows and movies, loneliness, running water, constant luz, bringing lunch to work, and planning to visit my babies in their sites for the next month and a half starting Monday. I'd like to say I'm adjusting but I think I'm still in the numb phase. I have plans. I want to paint the apartment. Meet new people. Get out of my new shell that I've put myself in. Volunteer at a home where children that live on the streets of the city are taken in. And embrace the new routine that will be my life for the next year. I'm going to do it. And I'm going to find myself here just as I've done before. But we all need that adjustment phase...right? It's just hard when I either call back home or they call me. I miss them terribly. And it keeps me stuck in a limbo between my life there and my life here. Though maybe that can be my life. In-between two worlds. One I don't want to let go of and one I can't run away from.
So for now. Here's some before and afters of my apartment (though there will be after afters once I'm able to stop struggling financially and buy paint). Thanks to Julie, an incredible new PCV and friend, I was able to nestle pretty quickly. And make it somewhat my own.