La Bendicion

Chicago cried the day I left for Boston. Well, it was only raining and the sky was all dark, but now I've got your attention. In reality, it was the other way around. I mean, I wasn't going to be able to enjoy this place in a long time:

I've been coming here for tacos since I was a baby. Aww.

After the excruciating task of deciding which things to leave and take was (somehow) complete, my last day "at home" was spent everywhere but home--cruising around Chicago taking pictures of places that had some meaning to me, hanging out with a couple of friends, going to the dentist to get a tiny cavity fixed (this is no big surprise), and visiting my abuelos who were luckily in the area. 

After talking to them for about an hour, it was time for me to go my way. So, in the spirit of tradition, I asked for their blessing. Except now I wasn't with my family going away on a small trip. Now, I was alone, going off to college.

If I ever see one of these in Boston,
 I will run up to it and
give it a hug.

As I bowed my head and kissed their hand, I couldn't help but to think of my kindergarten days and remember that phase in which I cried because I thought I was never to see my mom again.

After they were done, my grandpa asked, “Con quien vas a ir?” See, in the town my family’s from, it’s quite common that students who wish to further their education go away to study with a sibling or cousin. Often, this even means that one of them waits a year or two so that they could enter together. Not wanting to expose the fact that I basically was going to have to figure things all on my own, I replied with “some compañeros I met in a summer program last year will be there.”

Of course, my grandpa then proceeded to make some variation of the /:| face and asked me to clarify—I was going away to study with a bunch of boys?

Sadly, this dentist office was once a
 Fanny  May. I guess Karma does exist?

On the way to the airport, my mom reminded me, like she had always done in high school, “Acuerdate que sin comer ni dormir no vives.” Ironically, this was said all while eating some chicken that had been my idea to bring. Nevertheless, I told her that she was right—what’s the point of going away only to die from starvation?

And then of course there were my sisters who called me 

yesterday, my first night here, to inform me that they keep on reminding mom to “wait for Ana”, and that THIS made them realize they missed me. :’D I’m glad to know that their enthusiasm for "their new place to listen to music" (my room) eventually dwindled down to a more normal level. 

In any case, I can still feel the gravity of college. I can still hear some tension in my parent’s voices when I call. I guess this "feeling" is as much a reminder of their sacrifices as it is my inspiration to give this college thing all I've got.  This whole experience gives off an odd kind of adult feeling. But alas, the many bendiciones I received this past week are still hovering over my head, as I sit here in my dorm room, in a whole new chapter of my life. And I really couldn’t be more excited!!!

Memoirs of a Previously Clueless Highschooler. Part 1.

It's August already, and I've definitely had my share of the typical carne asada and guacamole that comes with it! (Unfortunately, watermelon has not been so prominent in my diet this summer. This needs to change.) As I get ready to continue my education far, far away,  I'd like to go back to the good ol' high school days and tell you about them. That is, before time manages to either alter or delete them from my interestingly-humored memory. You deserve to know the facts in their full-fledged glory.

The first glimmer of high school I have was at a band rehearsal. It was during the summer, before classes even started. I knew no one, and no one knew me. That wasn't so bad because I was obviously expecting it. What really got me was how everyonewasALREADYtalkingtoeachother
SOmuchandOMGthisandthat...

With three considerably younger sisters, I experience some variation of chaos on a daily basis. But this was a whole new ball game. Sure, I wanted to make friends, but I didn't want to interrupt anyone's intense conversation. Instead, I carried out an intense conversation with myself:

"What if I say something ridiculous? Well, heh I guess I could turn it into a joke or something. What if they don't hear me? It's pretty loud. I don't have that strong of a voice. How would I know if they were ignoring me, or if they simply need to clean out their ears? What if I start babbling and they secretly start wishing I never started? What if...what if..." 

Before you start questioning my sanity, let me explain that I had gone to a very, very small grade school. My graduating class consisted of twenty-something people, and the majority of my social time was spent talking to my one best friend. I was used to inside jokes and comfortable conversation. Small talk wasn't really a clearly defined phrase in my head. 

That doesn't really matter though, because the people at my first rehearsal were NOT having small talk. Many freshmen knew each other for they had gone to the same elementary school, and on top of that, the all-powerful upperclassmen were also present. As a result of me trying to take this all in, I think the only sounds I really made that night were the few notes that came out of my trumpet. Just like that, there were 370 students in my class, and the band was huge compared to my former 5-person musical ensemble. 

U.U Yeah. My pre-high school world was a very small one.  

Just to highlight the twisted, unpredictable nature of this universe, I'll admit something. When I was three years old, I was an ever-talking guacamaya! Strangers were the perfect, interesting people to talk to. Nothing could stop me from speaking anything and everything on my mind. However, all people change, and for one reason or another, I did not have this same facility (or obsession with?) making conversation upon entering high school. 

Can you say Awkward Turtle? 

To say that I became discouraged by everyone seeming like they knew each other for decades would be a bit too exaggerated.  Sure, I noticed other people knew each other well and such, but I didn't let it eat me or my confidence. Plus, I was too excited about and concentrated on learning new things! (!!!!!) 


At any rate, I'm a good listener, and for the majority of my freshman year, that is what I did. I listened, made a few close friends, and listened some more. Slowly but surely, I started to "fit in", whatever that means to the overrated cliques that make up the typical high school experience.

Looking back, the process of fitting in would have been funner and easier if I had just revived and unleashed the inner guacamaya in me. Eh. Who knows where that would have led me, though. As for this portion of my reminiscing, I can say that I am very content with the way things turned out. I was always myself, and I think that's what matters in the end when you're off to meet new people and experience new things.

After all, if you lose yourself, you lose everything. (As...cliche and mushy as that sounds.) Spend some time figuring out what you want from life, and follow your passions. It will take work, but in the end, if you're simply yourself, you'll have true friends to help you along the way.

Feel free to comment with your own high school memories, questions, ideas, or insights! Rest assured--intense conversations with people I don't know overwhelm me no longer.

~Ana

If you liked this blog, you'll probably also enjoy: 

• http://mitadmissions.org/blogs/entry/making-friends-at-college
• http://ivanacastellanos-latinosincollege.blogspot.com/2011/03/is-being-single-getting-you-down.html