Just breathe

My life here no longer seems novel. Even though lots of things are very different from life back at home, they are beginning to seem normal. I briskly walk to my morning classes through Chilean suburbia and a giant shopping mall while wearing ear buds in my ears everyday, and I am not fazed. Even with the Andes as my backdrop on my walk to work, the magic is fading. Writing is forced. I have to consciously break routines and not get too comfortable, by doing things like an intercambio aka free Spanish practice in speed dating form.

With those thoughts, I remind myself to breathe, then close my eyes and inhale a deep smog-filled breath and with the exhale everything gains novelty again. When I re-open my eyes, I remember that the store I just walked into on an ordinary Chilean Saturday is as crowded as Black Friday: clothes are thrown into huge chaotic piles on the floor and counter tops while kids run freely around the store like it's their own personal closet. People shout food orders in restaurants without writing a word down. I have to go to 3 counters to buy any electronics: First I get a number to wait, then I get a ticket that says what I want to buy, next I go to the cashier and finally I am allowed to pick up the item at a separate counter. I contemplate non-refrigerated milk in boxes, condiments in bags, dreadlock mullets, fanny packs, rat tails, large digital watches, and non-ironic mustaches. I warily eye the ubiquitous military police. Everything is new and beautiful to me again. The childlike wonder is not yet gone.

I remind myself that this is my year to soul search without feeling guilty or caring about other peoples' expectations like I have done my entire life up until this point.