Other Places

After I've left the other cities I've lived in, there have been things I missed. From Miami, I miss the Cuban coffee, the sushi, these little fried balls of meat and potatos I can't remember the name of, and the ocean. I miss the water there, feeling like you're at the edge of the world (or at least the U.S.) and hearing so many different foreign languages as you walk around. I miss feeling like part of the majority.

When I think of Chicago, I miss the Jumping Bean, the cool manhole covers in Pilsen, working at the Mexican Fine Arts Center Museum, and this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that has some freakin' amazing chilaquiles. This morning I was seriously craving those chilaquiles with green sauce. I miss Lincoln Square, the huge park by our last apartment, and riding the el. I miss so many good restauarants you never ran out of choices. I miss friends.

When Nate and I went back to Guanajuato in August, I realized that I'd had several dreams of the Jardin (the central plaza in town; the place in the picture that's just past the steeple with all the trees). I know I've dreamt of walking under those trees. While we were in Guanajuato, I stopped at Truco 7, an old cafe I used to go to all the time. In January, it will be 11 years since I lived in Guanajuato as a student. Sitting in the cafe was interesting because I used to go their all the time to write letters, write in my journal, and try to write, period. It was while I lived there that I admitted to myself I wanted to write fiction. So it was interesting going back ten years later, having finished an MFA degree, having freelance writing and editing assignments, and having recently completed a draft (#5, I think) of my first novel. It felt like coming full circle in a way. Maybe also because I was with my husband and when I visited my old house mother, I was talking with her like another woman, not a student under her care. We talked a lot about family and children and she gave me some advice on being a mother. Her children have all left the house. They're all married and have babies of varying ages. Since I last saw her, I've lived in three different states, been published, finished a master's degree, gotten married. It definitely made me wonder ... what will be different for me in ten years?