El último día

I write my first entry (of what I'm sure will prove to be an interesting, informative, and glamorous account of the next few months of my life living in Argentina) while eating a honeycrisp apple with super crunchy Teddy Bear peanut butter on top, in the silence of early morning home. Dad has either kidnapped the dogs or they are all asleep after the rousing 7:15 wake up the dogs promise me every morning to make sure that I remember they exist/are excited for another day of being a dog.

In 24 hours from this moment, I will ideally be arriving at Logan International Airport in Boston with one large suitcase, my backpacking pack (there's got to be a better phrase for that), and something to entertain/feed me for the almost 24 hours of travel to Buenos Aires. We're having a 3-day orientation in BA before taking a group flight to Mendoza to meet our families and settle in.

As for how I'm feeling... I am oddly relaxed about it all. I occasionally remember that I am going to Argentina and really think about what that means... that I'll be away from most of the people I love for the next 5+ months, that I'll be eating meat on a regular basis, that I'll be living with people who are now just names and interests on a sheet on electronic paper, that I'll be sweating profusely from the 32C heat (as opposed to the 32F bitterness of New England), que mis palabras estarán en español cada, tarde, y noche. And once I remember all these things, relaxed is replaced with elation and anticipation (before studying in Argentina for 6 months it's called elation and anticipation _____________), but not yet the stomach flipping-quick breathing feeling that I'm sure will come tomorrow morning on the way to the airport. This is my longest time away from my family, the first time I'm traveling outside the countries of my citizenship(s), and the first place I'll really be utilizing my Spanish in a non-academic setting. I'm sure there will be many more firsts to follow.

Back to the important stuff I skipped over in the beginning of this post. The honeycrisp and peanut butter. This combination of fruit and spread happens to be my favorite mixing of any two foods (chocolate-covered strawberries are a very, very close second). I sit on my couch in pajamas and wonder if there is peanut butter in Argentina? Apples as incredible as the honeycrisp? Can I sit on a couch in my new family's home while eating? In my pajamas? There are so many uncertainties about what I will be doing in just a few days that continually run through my head as I go about my daily routine here in Massachusetts. But really, I've recently found that not knowing and I work very well together, perhaps even better than facts and routine and I do. And then there's also the phrase "my new family" that strikes me. It's such a common collection of words I've heard so many friends say after spending time abroad, but now it's a collection that holds four unknown people behind it. I'll be living with a family of four, a wife, husband, a daughter and son somewhere between 18-34 years old, and a dog(!).

And now to begin my day of errands and preparations!

Hasta luego,
Limor