Pt. I: On the Bus-The beginning
Distance. When I think of cultural distance, I realize that race complicates the issue.
I've been thinking also on what it means to be an American.
And now I'm reminded of another free write assignment. This time in high school. Similar to stream of consciousness. I'm sure there's some technical difference that I don't actually care about. Yup.
Pt. II: On the Bus-The end
Little girls with painted nails and puffy coats, and phones. Phones much cooler than mine, and a fashion sense much more hip and up to date, I'm sure.
There's no one here, really, and so writing about the bus ride proves challenging. Ah. It is finished.
Pt. III: The Waiting, and the Train Ride
At Malden Center Station people congregate in mass not-quite-huddles because no one wants to get too close. Baby, it might be cold outside but we require our personal space. I suppose though that if the temperature goes any further below freezing that we might rethink the whole personal space thing. At any rate, the train is much warmer, and we can appreciate that our body heat warms this metal contraption without us having to touch each other.
When I think of the differences between here and Italy that is something I often think of. Touch, space, personal, mine. And yet, though I touched more in Italy and talked much closer than I normally would I still craved touch, and I craved intimacy. You see, when touch is given here it carries meaning. They are not often thoughtless, or just part of the culture. A kiss on the cheek, a hand held, a lingering hug, tend to carry a bit more weight. Well, at least to me they do.
But over time I began to notice that these hugs and kisses of greeting became more, well, more. I began to be able to tell the difference between a "hug and kiss because this is how everyone greets each other here" and a "this hug and kiss is a little bit longer and tighter, bigger and smackier because hey, we're good buddies!"
The languages come in and out of my head almost like suddenly switching characters in a role-play. I'm torn. Maybe a little stuck. But I trust and I believe. Oh, I believe!
Here's that senior year lit assignment. Posted freshman year of college (so young and cute! I still ate cinnamon toast crunch, visible in the background) when I actually had time to do things like post YouTube videos without feeling guilty about procrastinating something else. Enjoy ;)