I said goodbye to numerous friends with numerous meetings to eat, drink, and celebrate. My American friends trickled out of the country as we bid them all farewell at the bus station one person at a time. My host family cried with me, packed with me, weighed my suitcase with me, drove to me the bus station and bid me farewell with tears in their eyes.
I was so excited to come home. My real parents eagerly awaited my arrival. My mom found that she could track my flight online, to which she did with great excitement.
But I was also horribly sad to leave.
A new gringa came to live in our house two weeks before it was time for me to leave. She was only staying for a month. She barely spoke any Spanish and my host mom doesn't speak any English.
It became a bittersweet affair as I showed her all of the things I wished I'd known. My host mom ask me to show her around town, the buses, the subway, to which I did with great joy. I had learned so much, I had come so far, it was odd to see someone who was starting where I had, scared, afraid, alone.
Arriving home in the US, I've never been more excited for much of anything in my life. My parents took the week off work, my brother was home from college, I was about to be home after being away for almost 5 months. I didn't know where to find the luggage carousal in the airport in Knoxville, so by the time I found my way down there, I past my dad and brother on the escalator as they came up looking for me. "Scooby!" My dad yelled."Daddy!" I replied, almost throwing myself off the step I was on (I have a horrible, completely irrational fear of escalators. When we were finally on the same floor, I game them the biggest hug I had ever given them! My mom had to wait with the car so it didn't get towed, but as soon as I had my bags, I ran outside (with 3 layers of clothing on, including a puffer jacket, in the 90 degree heat) and squeezed my mom so tight. I had heard her voice on the phone often while I was in Chile, but I wanted to hug her, kiss her, tell her in person how badly I missed her.
I was home. The home I had longed for since the day I left was minutes away but I couldn't help but feel that I'd left another home back in Chile. Another family was waiting to hear that I made it home safe. Another mom was worrying if I had made it through airport security, or if my flight had landed safely.
The longer I'm home, the more at home I feel, but I'll always know that I have another home in Chile.
