II.III.IX – Home
II.III.IX
HOME
Constantly moving on from adventure to another, I failed to notice my time in Colombia was almost up. On my last day, I opened my eyes and I was wide awake. I wanted to keep them closed, to go back to sleep. I wanted to stay in that moment right before you wake up – when things are still possible, and dreams are still real. I wanted to stay there, forever. But things aren’t always possible, and dreams aren’t real.
I felt ambushed. “This should be my life. I want to stay here – with Pedro, with my new family, every single day a new adventure”. But the dream had to end. I’d need to go back to Malta, to medicine, to my family, to my friends. My old life was there, waiting for me with arms wide open. And willingly or not, I’d have to go back to it. “I don’t get to live the life I want right now – that comes later” I figured. But at the same time I knew I wouldn’t go back the same person. I knew that my old life wouldn’t be the same as it was. I was now imbued with all that I had learnt all throughout this journey. I’d be okay, I knew that.
And so, I got up off my bed. I started packing – every rock and seashell and leaf I collected reminding me of all my adventures. I made the bed, took a deep breath and went out of the room; my room.
His mom was busy labouring around the house, preparing for something I had not quite yet managed to put a finger on, being still so groggy. “Buenas!” we exchanged as usual.
Of course, the Christmas decorations littering every single corner of the house soon reminded me what she was toiling away for. It was Christmas Eve and all the family would soon be gathered for the festivities. I walked to the kitchen as Panchito and Lupita slalomed in between my legs, the arepas, granadilla, and fresh juice all laid out on the table. I sat down next to Pedro, his dad and the nona. All of this I had grown so accustomed to. All of this I’d soon have to say goodbye to. Unable to bear such thoughts, I exiled them out of my mind. “I have this one last day with them, I can’t sulk around all day, this can’t be my last memory of this place.” I remember thinking so resolutely.
Soon it started raining family members. His brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, ancestors, and anyone left dangling from the family tree… You name it and they were there.
As many people as there were, only three of us spoke English well enough to communicate. The music was all in Spanish, the food was anything but traditional Christmas food and I felt all alone. “God, this is gonna be hell…” I thought over and over. For the first time in my life I felt homesick; like I would have rather been back home with my friends and family instead of that house; with people I didn’t know from Adam. I’d be seventy-fifth wheeling and I’d also probably be ruining their fun. Who the hell would want a random guy hanging out at a family event? “I’ll just stay in the corner and let everyone forget they ever saw me.”
Pedro was busy catching up with his family and so I found it that much easier to lay low. That is, until they started their own version of Secret Santa. There I was, smiling and clapping, feeling like the village idiot as they handed each other gifts and hugged and kissed and laughed and did the usual family stuff, and then his mom just goes… “MARIUS!”. Red in the face and semi-inebriated, I stood up. I was handed a box, which I awkwardly opened… They had gotten me a travel mug… A travel mug! They knew my life revolved around coffee so it wasn’t just a random gift – it was a well thought out one.
Once again, no “muchisimas gracias” would cut it here. I gave her the most bear-like hug in the history of hugs, knowing no words could ever explain my appreciation and love I felt for her. I embraced his dad with the same fervour and then sat back down, expertly and inconspicuously wiping my tears away. “How could they love someone they barely even know so much? How is it they find it so easy to make me feel like one of their own? How is it I never felt like this with my own family?”.
I rushed to my room, bawling my eyes out. I resented myself for thinking that. For thinking my dad didn’t love me just as much. For thinking I had been slighted by own parents. My dad’s body wasn’t even cold yet and here I was, having the time of my life with a new family. I missed him, I would have given everything for him to be there with me.
Pedro’s dad came into my room. He sat next to me, put his arm around my shoulder and uttered words I never thought I’d needed to hear; “I know this must be a hard time for you, but now you can think of me as your dad here in Colombia. You are now part of our family”. Too proud to admit my vulnerability, I smiled and nodded, but never in my entire life did I feel such warmth and kindness as I did right there and then. With that, he left me alone in the room – my room.
After I composed myself, I went back outside. The music; a sordid mix between salsa and Christmas carols, was now louder than ever, with most dancing to it already. Seeing Pedro’s dad dancing alone with a broomstick was, to this day, is one of the the funniest yet most charming things I’ve ever witnessed. After the one-man show, he grabbed onto his wife and everyone else joined in. Still under the false pretence that I was Pedro’s friend, dancing together wasn’t even an option. We snuck outside and finally had some fun of our own before going back in to join the rest.
Celebrating Christmas in Colombia was nothing like I had ever experienced before. Different, yes, but perfect in every single way. I was one of them, they were my family. I will forever remember that night as one of the best in my life.
And so, the following day I didn’t wake up as heavy-hearted as I thought I would. Nothing could ever take anything away from such an experience. The laughs and merriment of the previous night still echoed within my head as I got ready to say my goodbyes once again.
I hugged his mom and dad ever so fiercely, thanking them for everything they had done for me, for taking me in as one of their own, for loving me. I kissed Panchito and Lupita as they shamelessly slobbered all over my face. And then Pedro and I drove down to the airport. And with the movie-like ‘soldier going to war’ final kiss, we too said our goodbye. The plane took off, and with that, it was Colombia’s turn. Goodbye Colombia, goodbye Pedro, goodbye family.