In about five weeks, I’ll venture back to China for what will be my sixth year abroad, and my fourth country to call home. I never planned to be gone this long, but now I have no plans of returning. It’s funny how things work out.
I like my home in Shanghai, and don’t often feel homesick; but from time to time, I’ll find myself missing the States. Or Korea. Or Colombia. Home has become something of a relative concept, so it’s hard to actually be “home-sick.”
Lately though, I have been thinking a lot about my two years in Bogota, and the wonderful memories associated with Colombia. So I made a list. Here are the top 10 things I miss most about this former “home” of mine:
Now that I’m finally back and settled in Shanghai, with the second semester in full swing, it’s time to acknowledge that it is now 2015. It always takes me awhile to make the switch; in fact, my students corrected me today when I wrote the date on the board.
2014 was a busy year for me. I finished up my contract in Bogota, Colombia, attended my sister’s wedding in the States, started a new teaching contract in Shanghai, and added a new continent to my travel list. It was a good one. Here are the highlights:
I have to admit: my relationship with Bogota has not been love at first sight. It’s taken work, patience, and understanding. And as I’m sure most of my ex-boyfriends will tell you, I haven’t always been the most patient, or understanding, girlfriend.
Before moving to Colombia, I spent a lot of time daydreaming. I pictured myself in the kitchen, learning how to make traditional delicacies with someone’s grandmother. I saw myself dancing salsa in local clubs, like I had been doing it my whole life. I imagined the coffee shops I’d frequent, and the buzzing effects of their strong Colombian drip.
I arrived to Buenos Aires late at night December 30th. The air was thick and my backpack weighed heavy on my shoulders as I waited for a cab.
On the way to my apartment, illuminated European-like buildings and monuments decorated my view. Teenagers dressed in skinny jeans paraded through the streets. An old couple shared a pizza at an outdoor cafe. At a stoplight, I nervously smiled as my eyes met those of a handsome man in the taxi next door. He was singing “Isn’t She Lovely.”