Every time I go to China, I get one of those dreadful illuminations. I usually delay it by frantically eating and shopping and attempting to stuff every imaginable tidbit of Asia into my suitcase so that the memory won't fade. But alas, the loss is inevitable.
In the case of Chile, I decided to do a whirlwind of travelling. As soon as my finals ended, I went to La Isla Negra, Valdivia, Montevideo, Colonia, Buenos Aires, Punte del Este, Arica, Cuzco, Machu Picchu, Puno, Lago Titicala (Titicaca) back to Santiago and finally to the States. I didn't have a chance to breathe. Time seemed infinitely short and measured as I crazily took one bus here, another bus there, an airplane here, a ferry there. Even as I was buying alfajores in Santiago, two days before my trip back to the states, my mind and my body never registered what it meant.
Now, after another whirlwind of travel around Nevada with my family, the tides of contemplation have come.
The tip of the thought begins with two questions I never thought to ask when I planned to study abroad: When will I go back to Chile? and What do I do now that I am back?
