Seven months after our first visit to the Buenos Aires airport, Teo and Javy and I find ourselves here again. When we were here the morning of December 1, we were near the end of our journey; today, we've only completed the first short leg of the trip. Then, we had a huge adventure and a million unknowns ahead of us; today, we can reflect on all we've done and all we've learned and the many ways our world has expanded. We are now an hour into our five hour layover, with an overnight flight still between us and Atlanta. It's going to be a long night, but with some joyful reunions at the end of it. Teo and Javy are eating the first bagels they've had since we left home (thanks, Starbucks), and we're enjoying the honey milk balls that I made with the last of the peanut butter that our friends brought us in March. We're sitting in front of a broad window, watching trucks come and go past us on the tarmack. I feel like I could use a nap.
We did visit a café here in the airport and found their food to be about as good as the English on their travel posters.
Gene is still in Montevideo, tying up a couple loose ends there and spending our last pesos before he boards his flight to Miami about the same time we'll be boarding ours here for Atlanta. He'll get home a a few hours after us, but hopefully without the hassles that come with connecting flights on different airlines and a layover in a third country. I'm a little baffled by all the bumps in the road that have come with the itinerary that the cheerful Delta agent so easily put together for us nine or so months ago, apparently never suspecting the frustrations he was setting us up for.
The last few days have been full of goodbyes, and lots of questions about what we'll do when we get home. We've tried to guess how our good dog Lickorice will react when he sees us; the boys have asked a million times if our housemate Johnny will be home when we arrive; we've tried to imagine what it's going to be like going from winter to summer in 12 hours' time.
The past two days, of course, were mostly filled with lots of packing and last-minute errands. Teo and I did take a nice long, last walk on the beach yesterday, and I went up to the roof one final time this morning to try to fix in my memory the view I love so much. A few tears have been shed, a few promises made about trying to return.
Gene's coworkers gave us a nice goodbye party last week, where we ate chivitos, the traditional Uruguayan sandwiches, followed by salchichón de chocolate. Salchachón translates as sausage, and this chocolate dessert looks a lot like typical Uruguayan salami-type sausage, shaped in a roll with bits of white cookie speckling the dark chocolate cake. As a sending-off gift, the boys were given Uruguayan soccer jerseys with the numbers of two of the star players. They're wearing them today for their homegoing.
On Tuesday, I went shopping at the outdoor market in the next town for the last time and said goodbye to the woman who has sold me peanuts, cashews and raisins there for the last few months.
Saturday morning, Gene and Teo had another cookie delivery to make to thank someone who had gone out of his way to help us out. In March, we discovered that our iPad Mini was missing. We searched the house up and down, and searched our memories for a clue of where it could be. We finally had to conclude that it was gone, and did our best to chalk it up to some sort of bad luck or irresponsibility, though it was not like any of us to be careless with it, and it didn't make sense that someone would steal it from our house without disturbing anything else. It was a mystery and more than a little consternating. Then, one morning recently as Gene was walking to the bus stop, he received a call from an unfamiliar number. It was a man at a local electronics shop, who said that our iPad had been slid through the mail slot in the door to his shop the night before. He had gotten Gene's phone number from it, and was calling to have him come get it. The iPad was in perfect shape, and the man refused to take any money for returning it to us. He did, however, seem to enjoy receiving the cookies, and we were glad to have a way to express our appreciation to him.
Later on Saturday, we went into Montevideo for one last afternoon to see Gene's colleague Laura and her two boys, who Teo and Javy have very much enjoyed getting to know. We met at Parque Rodó, the large park that the boys and I frequented in our first weeks in Uruguay. The weather was beautiful; this warm spell in the middle of winter comes annually, it turns out, and is called veranillo (little summer) de San Juan (because it occurs near the Catholic celebration of the Feast of St. John). The four boys pedaled boats around the lake, kicked a soccer ball back and forth, and rode a few rides at the adjacent amusement park while Gene, Laura, and I discussed the U.S. Supreme Court's decision that has legalized same-sex marriage (it's been legal in Uruguay since 2013), what Uruguayans think of all the gun violence in the U.S. (they think it's absurd), and why Uruguay, as a nation of immigrants, doesn't have more and better ethnic food. It was a wonderful afternoon that made me think, once again, that we need to find a way to return to visit good people and relive good memories sometime in the not-so-distant future.
Sunday was spent packing seven months of our lives into seven large suitcases and various carry-on bags. Gene has a special talent for packing, for which I am always grateful. The family from the summer house next door, who we got to know in February and who we have enjoyed seeing on weekends since then, swung by for a moment on their way home to Montevideo from a visit up the coast to say goodbye to us. Their sweet kids were a special friends to Javy and Teo, and will be missed!
The last few days have been full of goodbyes, and lots of questions about what we'll do when we get home. We've tried to guess how our good dog Lickorice will react when he sees us; the boys have asked a million times if our housemate Johnny will be home when we arrive; we've tried to imagine what it's going to be like going from winter to summer in 12 hours' time.
The past two days, of course, were mostly filled with lots of packing and last-minute errands. Teo and I did take a nice long, last walk on the beach yesterday, and I went up to the roof one final time this morning to try to fix in my memory the view I love so much. A few tears have been shed, a few promises made about trying to return.
Gene's coworkers gave us a nice goodbye party last week, where we ate chivitos, the traditional Uruguayan sandwiches, followed by salchichón de chocolate. Salchachón translates as sausage, and this chocolate dessert looks a lot like typical Uruguayan salami-type sausage, shaped in a roll with bits of white cookie speckling the dark chocolate cake. As a sending-off gift, the boys were given Uruguayan soccer jerseys with the numbers of two of the star players. They're wearing them today for their homegoing.
On Tuesday, I went shopping at the outdoor market in the next town for the last time and said goodbye to the woman who has sold me peanuts, cashews and raisins there for the last few months.
Thursday, the boys went with me to the Atlántida market. We had made some oatmeal cookies to give to vendors there who have been special friends. Gladys has patiently helped me with my Spanish and kept me stocked with cheese and other good things, and saying goodbye to her was hard. We bought our last empanadas from the empanada stand and gave cookies and a drawing that Javy had made to the emapanada man and his wife, who have each week been so happy to see us.
Saturday morning, Gene and Teo had another cookie delivery to make to thank someone who had gone out of his way to help us out. In March, we discovered that our iPad Mini was missing. We searched the house up and down, and searched our memories for a clue of where it could be. We finally had to conclude that it was gone, and did our best to chalk it up to some sort of bad luck or irresponsibility, though it was not like any of us to be careless with it, and it didn't make sense that someone would steal it from our house without disturbing anything else. It was a mystery and more than a little consternating. Then, one morning recently as Gene was walking to the bus stop, he received a call from an unfamiliar number. It was a man at a local electronics shop, who said that our iPad had been slid through the mail slot in the door to his shop the night before. He had gotten Gene's phone number from it, and was calling to have him come get it. The iPad was in perfect shape, and the man refused to take any money for returning it to us. He did, however, seem to enjoy receiving the cookies, and we were glad to have a way to express our appreciation to him.
Later on Saturday, we went into Montevideo for one last afternoon to see Gene's colleague Laura and her two boys, who Teo and Javy have very much enjoyed getting to know. We met at Parque Rodó, the large park that the boys and I frequented in our first weeks in Uruguay. The weather was beautiful; this warm spell in the middle of winter comes annually, it turns out, and is called veranillo (little summer) de San Juan (because it occurs near the Catholic celebration of the Feast of St. John). The four boys pedaled boats around the lake, kicked a soccer ball back and forth, and rode a few rides at the adjacent amusement park while Gene, Laura, and I discussed the U.S. Supreme Court's decision that has legalized same-sex marriage (it's been legal in Uruguay since 2013), what Uruguayans think of all the gun violence in the U.S. (they think it's absurd), and why Uruguay, as a nation of immigrants, doesn't have more and better ethnic food. It was a wonderful afternoon that made me think, once again, that we need to find a way to return to visit good people and relive good memories sometime in the not-so-distant future.
Sunday was spent packing seven months of our lives into seven large suitcases and various carry-on bags. Gene has a special talent for packing, for which I am always grateful. The family from the summer house next door, who we got to know in February and who we have enjoyed seeing on weekends since then, swung by for a moment on their way home to Montevideo from a visit up the coast to say goodbye to us. Their sweet kids were a special friends to Javy and Teo, and will be missed!
Right now, half a day from arriving home, I am wondering what surprises are in store for us, what sort of reverse culture shock we'll be experiencing. I won't have the luxury of a relaxed readjustment period. Nine days from now, I'm off to the summer camp I co-direct, for two and a half weeks with 20 middle schoolers. But I don't want the opportunities that transitions bring to be lost on us. Much of what has become normal during our time in Uruguay, I want to remain normal for us in Atlanta. For example, I hope we can continue to hang our clothes out to dry instead of using the dryer, rely less on our car and more on bikes, and do a lot of our shopping at the outdoor markets that we are lucky enough to have near us. There is some lost time with friends and with academics to make up for, and the boys will have to wean themselves off their screens, which have been their companions way too much lately. I hope we will be successful in making these and other changes as a result of our time away. But I am also aware that the larger impacts of this experience won't be evident right away, and maybe not for many years. I am eager to watch my boys develop and grow, and hear from them in a few years what difference they think their Uruguayan adventures have made in their lives.
