The Last 24

So, this is the end of my adventures for now. I'm in the computer room at the Dilijan Resort Hotel in Dilijan, Armenia. Dilijan is one of the only woodsy places left in Armenia, and it is really beautiful. I met Dutch backpackers a few days ago, have made friends with every waiter, bartender and bellhop in the hotel, and had a few minor adventures. Finals were finished in Yerevan, and my last paper (detailing the Armenian constitution and democratic process, and the corruption therein) was turned in at 5:00 pm today. I spent far too many hours hanging around the bar with a friend and most of the waitstaff, hanging out and trying to understand people who don't really speak english- made me a bit nostalgic. Despite the fact that far fewer Armenians speak english than Turks, I've spent 99% of my time around my Americans classmates, several of whom speak Armenian, so I've had no real need or opportunity to practice the language until last night. Frustrating, because I know if I had a week or so of the amount of practice I got in one night, I'd probably know as much Armenian as Turkish... shat vat e. But too late now. We leave the hotel around 5:30 tomorrow morning for the Yerevan airport, maybe 1.5-2 hours away. From there, it's a long flight to Charles De Gaulle airport and then a longer one to Logan, then a ride on the T, the na five hour bus ride, then a 45 minute drive, then I'm home.

I must admit, in true anxiety-ridden Katie style, I am really nervous about coming home. I know everyone and everything has changed, even if only a little. And I know I've changed, and not just a little. I feel so much more tolerant, more understanding, even (gasp) more patient... more levelheaded. Things like communicating solely in hand signals, crossing eight lane highways on foot, dancing in public, being constantly misunderstood, and meeting new and different people every day have become my norm. Frustrating sometimes, dangerous sometimes, exciting always. I've picked up a few weird habits, two languages, a half dozen good, permanent friends, and innumerable absurd stories. Part of me can't wait to come home and see my siblings and how much they've grown. I remember how long seven months is when you're 17 or 15 or 13 or 11, how much your perspective/style/attitude/friends/interests can change. I genuinely look forward to getting to know them again. I can't wait to catch up with EVERYONE, hear stories and laugh and remember why we've always been so close. I'm dreadfully out of touch with pop culture, current music and movies and tv shows. I don't look forward to reverse culture shock- trying to cope with everyone speaking english, with fast food, with the individuality and lack of community that really defines America. Why do you think the only place in the world with "greek life" - frats and sororities and all the drama that goes all with them- is the USA? Because we lack on a fundamental level the sense of connection and belonging that comes with a real sense of community. I have family, and friends, and coworkers, and classmates, but I have no community. No group of people who know me and keep track of my actions and have an interest in my life, though they don't really know me or have any right pay such close attention. It seems terrible, like overbearing parents with a "big brother" eeriness, but only to American sentiments. And I'm really going to miss it.