Identity Crisis

One night, while I was in South Africa,a couple of friends invited me to go out for coffee. We sat at Olympia Cafe in a small town called Kalk Bay right outside of Cape Town. That was the night I met Claire and heard all about her life in the UK, the years she spent in Australia, and how she was called to work in Mpopomeni in South Africa. After finishing her story Claire looked around the table and asked us all to share our stories.

I shared my story with the group and spoke about being Salvadorian-American. I shared things that I had said before at introduction meetings and things like that, so I didn't think much of it until I heard Claire comment, "wow, so you've grown up with an identity crisis and have slowly figured stuff out, that's so cool". Those aren't her exact words, but that's pretty much what she said.

I began thinking about this identity crisis and realized that it is in fact what I have struggled with as I've become more independent and as I've tried to figure out who I am and where I am going in life. I am Salvadorian, but I am also American. Right now I am watching the Giants vs. the Dodgers and I am in LA with people who cheer for the Dodgers, but I'm texting my brother back home who is at the Giants game with friends that I often go to games with.

When I'm in San Francisco, I miss being at APU and soaking up all the Southern California air. When I'm in Azusa, I miss my hometown. When I was in South Africa, I missed the US and, when I came back, I realized there is no place like South Africa. I constantly find myself torn between two worlds, sometimes even more than two. I have friends in so many places and, sure, I can call them or write to them on facebook, but I miss hanging out with them and sometimes I just need a hug from a specific friend.

They say home is where the heart is. I wish I had a heart for every home, instead I'm stuck tearing it up and putting a piece in each place. The result is that I'm always homesick, but I don't regret it because every home has blessed my life with happiness.

A Sort of 3D Memory

It's one thing to remember South Africa and to sing the Zulu songs in my head while drinking an English version of Rooibos tea, but it's so much better to catch up with friends from the South Africa semester, sing songs together, and drink the actual tea while also eating Zulu bread.

I don't know how else to describe it than by quoting Starfield:
"it's been so long since I have met you here,
since I have said these words or cried these tears,
and like a child would come I run into our secret place,
and as the music fades the tears are rolling down my face.
I am alive in this moment, in this moment I am found.
I am alive in this moment, in this moment I belong".

Breathing APU Air Again

I'm back on the APU campus in Azusa. So many memories flood through my mind as I walk past the freshman dorms, the mail boxes, the Cougar Walk, and even Cornerstone Coffeehouse.It was only two years ago that I came here as a new student and explored the place I would soon call home.

Being away for a semester was refreshing. South Africa challenged me beyond what I ever thought I could handle and gave me a new perspective on life. It wasn't an instant text message letting me know what I would believe and who I would be from now on; it was more of a year-long essay that I researched, brainstormed, and finally put together word by word in a delicate process.

This year is quite different because I am now an upperclassman focused on the world outside college instead of the world of college. Two years ago I was just trying to figure out how all this worked and I was concerned about survival, now I feel confident as I walk into my first class and I'm aware that college is only temporary. Soon I will walk away from campus and enter the reality of the adult life. For now, I only get a small glimpse of it as I try my best to prepare for the full picture.

I started this blog so I could write about my adventures in South Africa and so that people back home could read about what I did every day and not bombard me with the same questions over and over, but now that my semester abroad is over I want to continue writing about my "normal" adventures. What I mean by normal is that we often think about an adventure as something extraordinary, as something that marks you as above the ordinary and completely takes your breath away, but, the older I get, the more I realize that every day is an adventure. I never know what is going to happen or how long the day will last.

It's not just another semester. It's my third year of college and life is full of surprises. Here we go.