The hills, the brightly colored houses, the varying shades of the ocean, the smell of rain on the coast, the family, the micros, the stray dogs, the memorized routes to friends' houses, the dances, the latin time... are only a portion of what I am leaving behind. This is a city of poets, of romance, of emotion. This is a port of lost glory, a coast of eternal beauty. I love this place like a parent, a friend, a sister. I feel numb at the thought of leaving and I cannot fully comprehend that I'm going to return to the states, to that other life that must certainly have paused for six months while I was here.
But that's not the case and Valparaíso won't pause either. These places, communities, are the forces that march heedless through time; I am but a single woman passing through. In this time, Valparaíso has changed my life more than I can articulate and more than I would be comfortable sharing. Because it has altered me so essentially, permeated my life so subtly, if I took the time to pause, to consider, to record in writing exactly how much, I'm afraid that I wouldn't know who I am. Valpo has affected me, but I have had little or no effect on Valpo. I met a tiny portion of its populace, made a few connections, lost others, and have been accepted for the time. But I'm moving on and they're staying. And who's to say how many people will remember me in a month, a year, a decade... How many will be left? How many will I remember? Will I ever forget?
For better or for worse, I have been touched by this country and I don't think that the imprint will ever fully leave. I'm worried that I will never fully recover if I leave this place, if I leave these people, but I'm perhaps more terrified that I will. That I will forget, that they will forget, that I will revert back to whoever I was before I came here. Because I don't want that. I want to carry the memories and images and faces and scars that I gained here and hold them to me, close, forever. Because I hold them close to me now. And it's important that I do so, because if I let go, all the happiness, all the frustrations, all the laughter, all the tears fade away as if they had never happened. And I can't get them back if that happens. Because the situation will be different, the people will be different. And I will be disappointed with the reality, trying in vain to maintain the memory in the present.
I love this place, and I recognize this numbness as separation. I'm separating from this place, from this family, from these memories, and in doing so separating from myself. I'm leaving a part of myself here, perhaps in the hope that when I return, if I return, that part will have preserved Valpo's memory of me, and the same people will remember and be waiting for me still. This way I have the hope of returning, of finding them again, of reuniting with this part of me... Without this hope, I don't think I would get on that plane back to the States. Back to "home"... For a part of me.
Gracias por todo lo que me has dado. Gracias por las sonrisas, por los bailes, por las lágrimas. Gracias por abrir mi corazón a sentir este lugar, a entenderlo, a quererlo. Por mi parte, yo te juro que nunca voy a olvidar. Espero que me recuerdes; espero que me extrañes. Y si sea posible en el futuro que nos reunamos, espero que me esperes. Adios, mi corazón. Que te vaya increíble, Valparaíso.
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