I can understand why reality shows have become so popular -- real life really is so much more interesting and intricate than fiction, especially when it comes to relationships with other human beings. It is rarely ever the initial intention to build a deep and everlasting relationship when we met another person, although that does happen. But nonetheless, there are so many varieties of deep and meaningful relationships that we build with each other. It is actually quite amazing.
I've been thinking about relationships (in the general sense of the word) a lot lately. I've realized the majority of the relationships I consider to be fundamental in my life are based on technological proximity rather than actually spatial proximity and it's really unsettling to think that most of those relationships will never be grounded in daily physical experiences again. There isn't one single, organized community for me to return to. But I guess that is part of growing up. Looking at it from the other side of that same coin, it is amazing to think of how many relationships can be maintained and nurtured even without that physical proximity. Or how you can have almost no relationship to speak of with someone but then you can still share such intimate and special bonds with them. This past weekend has been quite the collection of eclectic social circumstances. The truth is you really just have no idea how someone is going to fit into your life and how that role is going to change.
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I don't know what switch has been turned on but I am feeling invigorated and ready to go! I haven't been shy about the fact that I'd been struggling to get my academic bearings straight these past few months, but coming back from winter break I have finally gotten my grove back! YES HONEY! I'm going to attribute this spark to five major changes:
I have realized that I only have a matter of months (official number yet to be determined, but most likely eight) left here in Granada. Now, I realize that following my last post my dewy-eyed desire to stay in Granada may strike some as contradictory and nonsensical, but the truth is Granada is my home. I've always been pretty easy going about adapting to wherever I am and have developed sentimental feelings about a lot of different places in my life. And I, of course, hold Champaign-Urbana and even Bloomington in very special places in my heart but there is just something about Granada that calls to me. And as much as this particular chapter in Granada has certainly had its challenges, I realize how extremely fortunate I am to have had the opportunity to come back here. In reality, those challenges are a big factor in why I am now feeling so appreciative about being here in Granada. In the last few months I have realized with certainty that my professional life most likely does not belong here in Spain, which means that my adult life will most likely not be based here. Now, I still don't know where exactly it will be based (and trust me, I am open to a LOT of different options) and I am sure I will fall in love with many more places in my lifetime. But right now I really want to focus on just cherishing this time here, in Granada. And I know that this city will always be a huge part of my life and that I can always come back and visit, but there is something so special about living in the place that just warms your heart. I want to take advantage of all that the city has to offer so in addition to my more lofty goals that I mentioned in my last post, I am also attempting to hold myself to some smaller, more manageable ones. Each week I want to: try a new bar or café; go on a walk and photograph a new part of the city; do something new that I haven't done before. For example, this week I went to the Spanish post office for the first time to retrieve a package. It was new and I have never relished waiting in line at a government office more!
I've never really been one for New Year's resolutions. I mean, if you want to resolve to do something then just do it, don't wait for the arbitrary transition into a new year, am I right? But I have to confess -- there's something about this new year that makes me want to renew my resolutions to myself.
While my trip to Germany may have been amazing, the homecoming was anything but. After traveling for 14 hours, I arrived at my apartment only to discover that my lock was broken and I was unable to enter. Initially I didn't think too much of it--maybe there had been some sort of mishap with the lock after I had left. The fear didn't really set in until one of my roommates assured me she had no idea there was anything wrong with the lock (both my roommates were both out of town for the holidays so thank goodness for technology, otherwise I would have completely been on my own to figure this all out). Shit. Well, there goes my Christmas Skype date with my family. It's midnight on a Saturday night, the day after Christmas. She assures me there is a 24 hour service I can call, for a price, to come open the door. Wanting to make sure that it isn't just me that can't open the door, I encounter some neighbors in the building and recruit them to give it a try. They immediately recognize that it is in fact broken and offer to call the lock service for me, which I reluctantly accept. 20 minutes and 100 euro later, the door is open and it is obvious that my apartment has been broken into. Shit SHIT. The woman who has opened the door is visibly rattled and insists on calling the police before letting me enter the apartment. Kindly, she waits with me until they arrive and then quickly high tails it out of there. I am totally in shock as the police walk through the apartment with me. All the lights are on, all the windows are open, all the closets and drawers are open and trifled through. I am even more in shock to see my new Mac laptop sitting untouched on my desk, which I thought for sure I had lost. The thoughts are going so quickly through my head that they are barely comprehensible: "How did this happen? Why did this happen? Is someone still here? What did they take? How am I ever going to feel safe here again?". After a quick scan, the police declare the area safe; there is no one still on the premises. They ask me a few questions and take my contact information before turning to leave. On their way out they inform me that a forensics team will be coming either the next day (Sunday, not likely in Spain) or Monday to check the area for prints and that it is totally fine if I stay in the apartment in the meantime. What? I cannot believe they actually expect me to stay in my crime scene apartment with a broken lock. That is absolutely NOT going to happen.
What are the options? 1. Stay in the crime scene apartment without a functioning lock (NO); 2. Get a hostel (not desirable); 3. See if I can stay with someone I know (seems to be best option). Unfortunately, no one I know is in town. But fortunately one of my friends from my graduate program offers to let me stay at her place while she is gone, which is super convenient because her flat is actually just in the next apartment building over. It's well past 2 AM when her roommate kindly let's me in. At this point I am completely in shock -- what has just happened? How is this possible? How on earth am I going to deal with all of this? More than shocked, however, I find that I am furious and terrified: a lethal combination. How dare someone make me feel so unsafe in my own home? In the heat of the moment I think I can even understand where people are coming from when they argue that they would feel safer with armed protection in their home... feeling any sense of accordance with that train of thought perhaps scares me most of all. The next day I keep my phone in my hands at all times. I am skeptical that the police would actually come to do prints on a Sunday, but I also find it hard to believe that they would leave my apartment as a crime scene for days while expecting me to live there. Luckily, since I had just returned from traveling, I had all my necessities with me. The main inconvenience was that I had actually packed minimally for my trip to Germany (which is NOT my normal modus operandi) and so all my clothes were well-worn at this point. Basically, I am just feeling super grody and grimy. After having spent a week as a guest in various peoples' homes I just wanted so badly to be in my space. My friend's roommate was friendly enough and wanted to make sure I felt comfortable there but I didn't want to be a burden so I ended up spending most of the day locked away in my friend's bedroom: my new asylum. Monday morning came and I was up at the crack of dawn to get the ball rolling. I had been in contact with one of my roommates throughout this entire ordeal (the other roommate was currently unreachable in the Caribbean) and we had concocted a plan: I go to the police station first thing in the morning on Monday to file the official report, after which point the landlord would pay to have our lock fixed, and then we would deal with getting the crime scene status in our apartment resolved. I am one of the very first people in line at the police station, extremely nervous but also incredibly resolved to get this taken care of. When my number is called I go to the back of the station to do the report. Within two minutes, the officer informs me that I cannot complete the report since my roommates haven't been back to the apartment to verify what, if anything, of theirs was stolen. I am becoming beyond frustrated at this point. I understand the logic to this policy, but I have been told that my landlord won't get the lock fixed until there is a police report filed and I am unwilling to either live in my crime scene apartment with a broken lock or continue not living there because it is my home! And I want to go home! Plus, I am supposed to be hosting Stefan, my friend who hosted me over Christmas in Germany, at the end of the week and I have no idea how to cope with all of this. The police officer doesn't offer me any solace and when I ask if there is a way I can at least ensure that someone will be over to the apartment later today (as I had been be told they would on Saturday evening) to do all the forensic work, he dismissively tells me that they will call and there is nothing I can do but wait. I leave the police station completely dejected. I call my roommate in a complete panic -- I need this to start getting resolved and I need it to start happening now. Between the two of us we spent the entire day speaking with our landlord, who eventually agrees that this is a pressing situation and that he will get our lock fixed just as soon as possible, and then waiting for return phone calls from both the police and the security office. Neither phone call comes through. It's well after business hours when I hear finally back from my landlord asking to know how everything went today. He is completely shocked to find out that neither security nor the police were in contact with me and assures me that this will all get straightened out the next day without a doubt (apparently what had happened was that the security office was still on holiday hours so they were only in business for the morning that day). At this point all I have is doubts but I return to my friend's apartment with my tail between my legs--grateful to have a place to stay but totally disheartened by the wasted day. The next morning I wake up at the crack of dawn once again and watch my phone until it rings. My roommate is coming into the city in the afternoon so even if the morning ends up being wasted once again at least I would have someone with me to help sort it all out. The phone doesn't even make it through a whole ring before I answer the call: it's the security officer! My landlord has come through for me and they are coming over to fix the lock! YES! I race over to the apartment to meet the security officer and before we know it I am back in the apartment for the first time since that first night. I timidly enter and look around; I hadn't been able to take everything in on Saturday night because I had been in such a state of shock but looking around now there really wasn't much of a mess. Most of it had been isolated to the bedrooms and, more specifically, the closets. Nonetheless, I am on edge. It feels so weird being back in there. I wonder how long that feeling will last. My roommate shows up a few hours after the security officer is gone. She is accompanied by her older sister and her sister's boyfriend and friend, who works for the police station in their hometown. I catch them all up on the events of the past few days and he makes a call to the police station to see if we can get the forensics team over to the apartment before the end of the day since we can't really clean anything until they do their part. Correctly assuming we have some time to kill and not wanting to pass that time in the apartment, we all go out for a leisurely lunch and when we come back we get the call that the police are on their way! I am on cloud nine as the apartment gets dusted for prints and is finally cleared of its status as a crime scene. By the time everything is said and done, it's evening and it's time for my roommate to go back home. Initially I am a little apprehensive about staying in the apartment on my own but I rip the bandaid off and do it. I spend the whole night deep cleaning the entire place and trying to make it feel as home-y again as possible. It was a quick turn around to get everything in order as I had to spend the next morning finishing up the paperwork at the police station and then I was off to Madrid that afternoon to meet up with Stefan for New Years. In the end, I know that this all could have turned out so much worse. Luckily no was injured and only very minimal things were stolen. I'm choosing to look at it like a car crash--they always say if you're first accident is a minor fender bender you will be a better driver for it and are (hopefully) more likely to avoid more serious accidents in the future. I think the same principle applies here--it was a very minor break-in and hopefully I'll learn from it and be more careful and aware in the future. I've now stayed multiple nights in the apartment on my own and it's all been totally fine (although I am grateful that Stefan did come back for a few nights so I had some company to help ease me back into normalcy). In fact, it's even become a joke now that the "rhinestone robbery" has actually been a useful service to me in getting rid of some pretty tacky clothes that I probably didn't have any business owning anyways. Yay for silver linings! |
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Meet the Author:Graduate student of GEMMA Eramus Mundus Master's Degree in Women's and Gender Studies. Currently living in Budapest, Hungary. Originally from the American midwest. Archives
October 2016
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