May 28, 2013 by ebostick1212
As I am writing this, I am sitting out on the playground at CEIP Guadalquivir, the sun is scorching, I am surrounded by sweaty children, the pavement is melting the soles of my shoes….but I can’t think of a better place to be.
It really pains me knowing that this is my final week at colegio. In fact, I am conscientiously trying not to think about it, because when I do, I get a knot in my stomach. In a perfect world, I would continue working here in Mairena, somehow gain full time employment (ha!), and the kids would never grow and never change.
This isn’t a perfect world though, and I can’t stay at Guadalquivir, according to the government. If I am to stay in Spain, I must go to Priego de Córdoba. I am faced with some major choices to make.
I refrain from talking too much about my personal life on my blog, mainly because it’s pretty bland. I prefer to observe Spanish culture and offer my commentary. No one wants to hear about my boyfriend, or my aunt, or other people they don’t know in every post.
Still, I guess it is time I address some things to my virtual audience, however few of you there may be. I have been living abroad for five years, now, first in England, then France, now here. About two years ago, my mother was diagnosed with FTD, a type of dementia that affects language processing. I was 23.
This is something that usually happens to people in their forties, who have older parents with Alzheimer’s. FTD is early onset, and even strikes people in their forties. It isn’t fair that it happened to my mother and I, but life isn’t fair, and like I said, the world isn’t perfect. I’ve continued living abroad, and while some people might have their opinions, and think that I am being selfish, I say I am living my life. I am 25 for God’s sake, I need to be out seeing the world. If not now, when? I refuse to live a life constantly thinking about what I missed.
I love my mother with all my heart, and I know she loves me. We talk often by Skype, and while this is difficult, I know I am doing my best to keep in contact, and not avoid the situation completely. The fact that we live on different continents isn’t a measure of our love, by any means. She is still my mother, and I am still her daughter.
And this is where the tough choices come in. I want to stay in Spain. I love it here…the culture, the people, the language. I can clearly envision myself spending another year here; maybe even more. I have so many things I want to see, so much Spanish to learn, so many experiences to have.
Yet I also want to go home. To be with my family, of course, that is an absolute given, but also to earn some money…everyone knows auxiliars aren’t rich. I want to approach my thirties with some stability, even just monetarily, because at this moment in time, nothing in my life is stable. Maybe it is time to grow up.
I know I will cry, no matter which choice I make.
The silver lining in all this is that my nomadic persona isn’t going anywhere (that sentence is SUCH a paradox.). The beautiful thing about life is that NOTHING is permanent. I can do one thing for one year, and switch gears and do something new the next. I can, and will come back to Europe, if I leave. I still have a Spanish boyfriend, and about 400 Spanish kiddies that love the heck out of me, and keep asking me when I will be back. I have reasons to come back if I leave. I will always be a wanderer.
The great thing about being a nomad, is that I can be a nomad anywhere. Whether it be Sevilla, Boston, Paris, or San Francisco, it is a part of my personality and I can’t just let it go, even if I settle down. I will always be slightly nomadic, and I will continue blogging wherever I end up.