The Long Distance Runner :)

1 – Decision

It all began with my desire to run away from all the bad things in my life. Were these things really bad? At least I thought so. Ever since I had entered university I have had this desire to leave, to run away, to change , to move to a different world where I could feel in my element. The story of my desertion begins in February 2011 with a simple flyer seen in my school. The first thought was it sounds interesting, why not give it a try. But as many of my other thoughts of running away it just sank to the back of my mind and remained there for a long time. The only thing I’ve done a little later on was to suggest to my mom the idea of me leaving for the summer for internship and try to understand her reaction. Because her brain couldn’t cope with this new idea I presented she just pretend not to understand my question and went on doing what she usually did. I dropped it. Didn’t believe it would be possible. Some weeks later one of my friends asked me if I’ve seen the flyer with the summer internship. I replied that it has crossed my mind but did not give it to much importance. She told me she would very much like to apply but only if I applied with her. Then it started to really interest me. I began thinking what am I supposed to do, what was the flyer really about and what was it that was required for me to do. As Romanian bureaucratic system is, we went from one door to another and then back to square one only to realize that we have achieved absolutely nothing. After a week, one other friend joined us and so our courage and fighting desire boosted up enough for us to want to go on. Three of us now , we went directly to the person in charge with student exchange issues and thus we got all the information needed. And by the end of April we have already had the application form submitted, CV and portfolio sent to the office and were waiting for the answer. Were we accepted or not? At that point I couldn’t understand what this implied and thus I didn’t believe I could be possible for me to actually be accepted and to actually go to another country. Later on as I was in the plane flying towards Spain I could still not believe I was actually going away, leaving everything I ever was connected with my entire life.

April began and the application for Erasmus Scholarship was also beginning. It crossed my mind that maybe I should also apply for it just in case I was rejected. All of my friends were going to apply thus I have decided to do the same. But where would I go? For how long a time? If I was to go I would go for ever, I thought. If I wanted to separate myself from everything, I will have to do it thoroughly and with patience but the change would have to be radical. Belgium. Spain. Italy. England. Which one is the best? The longest period of time was 1 year and the options where only three. Bruxelles , Granada and Trento. Every country had a city. Spain will not be an option for me since the summer internship was in Malaga, Spain. Thus it will have to be one of the later. At the beginning I chose Bruxelles. My reasons. The school was the best, it was far enough and I would learn a new language. French. Unfortunately I was stopped in my decision by the extremely expensiveness of the city which my parents could not cover at all. Once dropped this decision the only one left was Italy, Trento. I Google searched everything I needed to know about this city, about the university. I loved it. It suited me and my spiritual needs. It was small, quite, in the mountains, close to Venice, Verona, Padova, Milan, it was a German influenced city and with every word I read I filled my heart with hope and delight. This would be my next city. My next adventure.

I was doing this. I was actually applying for a foreign country studies and work. I was tacking the big step. the one that I always wanted to do since I began high school. I didn’t want to leave because Romania was bad or because my parents were over possessive. I wanted to leave because for 23 years I have been so protected and so connected to a world I felt I didn’t belong to that the urge to find myself was killing me inside. I was nothing. I felt I wasn’t achieving anything. I felt so lost in my tracks that the only solution at that point was just leaving. I care about family, friends and close ones but until I don’t know myself I can’t be really connect to them. So the idea of not going away because I would miss them was not a problem to me. I would do everything I can to feel at home everywhere I go in the world because home is in my heart and not in the things around me.

I was afraid. I was terrified. I was petrified. I remember the last night home my mind was empty. I had no thoughts at all. It was just like standing on the edge, just a few seconds before jumping and the only thing left inside me was emptiness, silence. I remember that last day as it was yesterday. I was sitting in the back of my parents car. My sister was next to me. My father was driving. My mother was trying not to cry. And it was raining. for me at that point time stood still. Nothing in the world moved. Everything stopped for those few last hours. the city was the same, only this time it was moving in slow motion. I was trying to absorb everything. Remember the smell, the rain, the wetness, the colors, the sounds, the textures just as I’ve known them for the last 23 years. Nothing was useless, at that point everything in my city had it’s own right place. The imprint of that day will stood with me forever wherever I went from that moment on.

Felul cum ploua

Poate să vi se pară ciudat, puteţi să nu mă credeţi, dar atunci când vreau să cunosc cu adevărat un om, îl privesc cu atenţie şi încerc să-mi imaginez felul cum plouă în jurul lui. Există o intuiţie care nu mă înşeală niciodată şi care îmi sugereză mai exact decât cele mai exacte probe ceea ce vreau să ştiu.

Sunt oameni în jurul cărora ploaia cade copilăroasă, cu clăbuci şi zarvă nestăpânită, făcând să crească ciupercile şi să scoată coarne boureşti melcii; sun alţii în jurul cărora ploaia se desenează discret ca o fină haşură, ca un voal subţire care foşneşte mătăsos şi face streşinile să cânte abia auzit; pe unii îi învăluie ca o reţea invulnerabilă, ca nişte implacabile riduri ale văzduhului, fără zgomot şi fără sfârşit;pe alţii îi împodobeşte cu serpentinele ei colorate, încurcându-i în liniile lungi, pline de haz; unora le atinge obrazul şi li-l face mai frumos, li se agaţă de gene şi străluceşte în picuri instabili; altora li se scruge prin păr şi pe gât murdărindu-i, făcându-i să tremure şi să îşi strângă în jurul gâtului bietul fular, înjosindu-i, urâţindu-i. N-aş putea să explic de ce, poate că totul se datoreşte marii sensibilităţi a ploii, capacităţii ei de a se adapta şi de a reacţiona prompt, dar nimic nu caracterizează mai bine un om decât felul în care ştie să facă ploaia să plouă.

 

În câte nesfârşite game se mişcă sunetele ei, ce culori diferite şi neaşteptate poate să schimbe, în câte forme se lasă modelată şi ce sentimente contrare poate să oglindească aceeaşi picătură de ploaie!

Ana B.