Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Real Talk

     When living abroad, it's easy for others to believe that your life is all rainbows and sunshine. After all: You left the country! You're taking pictures from all these exotic locations, and filling social media with pictures of amazing food. Why wouldn't your life be something from a fairy tale? It's easy to pretend that going abroad and “living the dream” is where your problems end, and for a lot of people, that's all they want to hear. However, there is a dark side to all of this. There are things that make it hard to be where you are, and certain things you must accept in order to make this choice.

     For example: My mother has been in the hospital twice this year and now my grandmother, her mother, is in the hospital. And there is absolutely nothing I can do. I can only sit here, make calls over the internet, worry, and cry. Don't forget the crying. When you move to another country, you accept that things will happen at home, and you won't be there. We watch our friends' and families' lives: engagements, marriages, births, and deaths, over the internet. It is a decision that we make, and a choice we must live with. There is no easy way around it. 

      Living as an expat is not always fun. You have the same things to deal with in your home country. Sometimes it is in a different language, thus increasing the fun (just kidding, there's nothing fun about opening a bank account, renting an apartment, or other fun stuff in a language you barely speak). No one mentions the things that also come with being an ex-pat: The isolation, the comments, the stares, the homesickness, the depression, the helpless feeling when something happens at home, the uncomfortable feelings when encountering cultural norms, etc. I plan to talk about these things more in this space. There have been some AMAAAAAAZING times I've had here in Spain, and there have also been lows. They are not uncommon, but I don't always know how to deal with them. I will find a way to overcome certain things that [occasionally] make me forget what an opportunity I have here. I will find a way to deal with my decision, even when I have to return home to bury my dead. 

     Sorry for the morbid post. I told you: It's not all rainbows and sunshine. 
-K-

Saturday, May 16, 2015

De Los Estados Unidos

15 September, 2014
"Fear and Loathing in the United States

Well, it's finally come. After 2,5 months with my family and friends, I am returning to Madrid. There was a lot (I mean a LOT) of drinking, dancing, and travel. And somehow I STILL never managed to see everyone I wanted. Some were too far away, some I was too exhausted to get to (I'm so sorry.), and some just made no effort to call me at all. Whatareyagonnado?

It was great to see everyone, but I also learned a lot. It's interesting when you see things with fresh eyes. It's interesting how many things change when you go away, and how many things stay the same. Although it was nice being back with family and friends, in my home country, there were so many things that showed me that I made the ABSOLUTELY correct decision.

Por ejemplo:

- Safety: Not many people know this, but I was a witness to a shooting when I was 17 years old.  It was an attempted murder/suicide that involved my then boss and the man she was seeing.   I'm not going to get into the gory details, but it actually happened at my job. She broke up with him. He didn't like it.  I saw him run into the store, I saw the gun, and I hid behind the counter. She lived. He didn't.

There's also the: I'm from one of the worst parts of New Orleans thing. I have heard of and seen more crime happen in my city, than some. I have lived in a place where hearing gunshots is normal

From the moment I touched down in the U.S.I felt a fear that I´d never experienced before.
In Spain I´d rid myself of certain habits, like constantly looking over my shoulder to see who was behind me. Looking in the reflections of store windows and cars to make sure no one was sneaking up on me. Watching shadows on the ground, to see if anyone was behind or near me. Sizing up everyone I passed on the street, like: "I can kick his ass... I can kick her ass... I can DEFINITELY kick that old lady´s ass..."

I was back on U.S. soil for 24 hours, and woke up to the news that 9 people were shot in a nightclub on Bourbon Street. Welcome home, KC. You just left a country that had 7 shootings this year. Your mom´s apartment complex had 3 last night. Good job, buddy.

So it was such a relief when it came time to leave and return to Spain. It was also just so strange. I´ve always known that NOLA was dangerous. Atlanta didn´t have the greatest track record, either. But this was the first time I was truly afraid of the cities I called home. I´d been reading about the crimes happening back in New Orleans. and I had no desire to be back in that environment.

If you haven´t left the U.S. and experienced what it´s like to have that kind of security, then you can´t understand. It was hard to explain to my Spanish friends what it was like to constantly watch where you walk, or just having the fear that you could be shot at any moment. People in my country are allowed to openly carry guns. and they are not afraid to use them. So it makes you a bit shy. That dude who just stepped on your foot could be carrying. Road rage takes on a whole meaning, when there are pistols involved.

I´d seen stories about a few women who were dragged into alleys and raped in the French Quarter, rapes/sexual assaults in the LGD, and now people wanted me to walk through the Bywater (alone) to meet them on Decatur Street... They didn´t seem to understand my reluctance (or flat out answers of "FUUUUUUCK NO!")  and I didn´t understand the sudden fear of my birthplace.

Look, New Orleans is dangerous. It´s always been that way. We know damn good and well that we don´t live in Disneyland, and we´ve always known that. But after living in a place where being gunned down on the street just doesn´t really happen. You can´t buy piece of mind like that. You can´t appreciate it, if you always had it , and you can´t reclaim it once you´ve lost it. I  guess it´s hard to explain, if you haven´t been there. I can only explain how I feel.
I breathed easier once I was in the air, leaving that behind.

 I miss my home, my family, my cat. But I don´t miss the feeling that I was compromising my safety just by leaving my house. When I lived in New Orleans, I had a ritual before I went out into the world. I would kiss Avon (my cat) on the top of the head, scratch his ears, and tell him I loved him. Just in case I didn´t come back. I wonder if I´ll do the same once he comes to Madrid...