Goodbyes are all around just the worst
Goodbye are the worst, but they're inevitable, right? Being an avid traveler prepares you for that. You become a pro after a while. You know from the time you meet someone that you'll eventually part ways, in a different way than people you meet back home. When you're at home, you're acquainted with someone indefinitely (or so it seems, at least). But here in Spain, when most of your friends are Erasmus (study abroad) students, or travelers themselves, you recognize that someday sooner than you might think, you'll say goodbye.
This is that time. Our Erasmus friends have come to the end of their studies are returning home. I've attended more than a couple going away parties, dinners, and get-togethers in the last month than probably any other time. But that's fine, we all knew it was coming. And now it's a great excuse to visit Italy, Taiwan, Austria, Germany. The promise of more travel, more visits in the future make the initial goodbye at the very least, bearable.
Last Saturday, Benjamin had a big going away dinner at his favorite place, Bar Brasil. He's pretty well-liked, and there were a lot of people there. I sat across the table from my friend Adrian, and we struck up a conversation about what a shame it was that so many people were leaving. "I thought this would be our last goodbye, as well," he said. "But Iago just told me he's leaving also."
Iago is our super Galician friend from up north. He worked for Citroen but did not renew his work contract for the coming year.
My response was a relatively stoic "Oh really? That's such a shame," but inside I deflated. After so much experience doing this and having it done to me, I still cannot figure out why we always act like things don't hurt us just as much as they actually do.
Just like anyone else in the world, the people in my life and my friendships as a kid played a huge role in determining who I am today. I had an amazing childhood, in a great and stable home with awesome parents in a great city. I only had one home as a child, and in fact, my parents still own that house. Compared to my peers, I was really stationary. Up to the point I turned 18, I had more friends move away or change schools than I care to count. I actually used to say, "If you'd like to move away, become friends with me."
You might be able to credit this with my taste for travel, it certainly makes sense. I stayed in one place for so long, I finally felt like I should go and see the world. See, everyone wants to feel martyred and tragic, and I was no different. I was sulky and angry and all around teenagery when it came to friends moving away. I mean, it did certainly seem to happen to me a lot more than others. But in bar Brasil that night, I had a moment of clarity. Nothing is happening to me. Nobody is moving away because of me. People are living their lives and it's got absolutely nothing to do with me. People move. People do things. And that's just life. It's shit that in the midst of all our Erasmus friends finishing their courses and returning home, that one of our Spanish friends (who we thought would more reliably actually stay in Spain) is leaving too. But that's just life.
I made a video for Benjamin as a going away present. I had our friends record little messages for him and put it all together. Iago (who has the most super bromance with Benj that there ever was) had one of the best, simply saying that he wasn't going to say goodbye because they were sure to see each other again. And that's the spirit of travel, anyway, isn't it? It's a whole lotta "see you laters" and zero "goodbyes."
I really didn't want this to be cheesy. Sorry about that.
This is that time. Our Erasmus friends have come to the end of their studies are returning home. I've attended more than a couple going away parties, dinners, and get-togethers in the last month than probably any other time. But that's fine, we all knew it was coming. And now it's a great excuse to visit Italy, Taiwan, Austria, Germany. The promise of more travel, more visits in the future make the initial goodbye at the very least, bearable.
Last Saturday, Benjamin had a big going away dinner at his favorite place, Bar Brasil. He's pretty well-liked, and there were a lot of people there. I sat across the table from my friend Adrian, and we struck up a conversation about what a shame it was that so many people were leaving. "I thought this would be our last goodbye, as well," he said. "But Iago just told me he's leaving also."
Iago is our super Galician friend from up north. He worked for Citroen but did not renew his work contract for the coming year.
My response was a relatively stoic "Oh really? That's such a shame," but inside I deflated. After so much experience doing this and having it done to me, I still cannot figure out why we always act like things don't hurt us just as much as they actually do.
Just like anyone else in the world, the people in my life and my friendships as a kid played a huge role in determining who I am today. I had an amazing childhood, in a great and stable home with awesome parents in a great city. I only had one home as a child, and in fact, my parents still own that house. Compared to my peers, I was really stationary. Up to the point I turned 18, I had more friends move away or change schools than I care to count. I actually used to say, "If you'd like to move away, become friends with me."
You might be able to credit this with my taste for travel, it certainly makes sense. I stayed in one place for so long, I finally felt like I should go and see the world. See, everyone wants to feel martyred and tragic, and I was no different. I was sulky and angry and all around teenagery when it came to friends moving away. I mean, it did certainly seem to happen to me a lot more than others. But in bar Brasil that night, I had a moment of clarity. Nothing is happening to me. Nobody is moving away because of me. People are living their lives and it's got absolutely nothing to do with me. People move. People do things. And that's just life. It's shit that in the midst of all our Erasmus friends finishing their courses and returning home, that one of our Spanish friends (who we thought would more reliably actually stay in Spain) is leaving too. But that's just life.
I made a video for Benjamin as a going away present. I had our friends record little messages for him and put it all together. Iago (who has the most super bromance with Benj that there ever was) had one of the best, simply saying that he wasn't going to say goodbye because they were sure to see each other again. And that's the spirit of travel, anyway, isn't it? It's a whole lotta "see you laters" and zero "goodbyes."
I really didn't want this to be cheesy. Sorry about that.
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