I decided to spend my afternoon atop the castle. I entered a tunnel with an elevator at the end, and stepped out to the sandy ancient Arabic fort where I first saw the splendor of Alicante.
The buildings and port are so beautiful on this castle. I love the sandy stone and Muslim legends embedded within the architecture. I pass by the forts that the group visited in the beginning of the term. My first, foreign meeting with these Mediterranean buildings and sapphire seas replay in my memory. And today, ascending the castle for a second time, I see a city I know. I can point to the cathedral near my favorite icecream shop, the beach stand by which I waded in cool sea water yesterday, or the cafe in which I bought an overpriced water just so I could use their restroom. Alicante feels more familiar to me each day. I know that when I leave, I will feel like I'm departing from a surrogate home.
My grammar class read a passage describing a legend of star-crossed romance on the castle. The blood of a forbidden Muslim-Christian couple stained white almond blossoms red. I'm not sure if these flowers are the legendary blossoms, but they are still photo-worthy.
Suddenly, atop the castle, I craved pho. With sriracha. And ramen tatsuya. And not confronting strangers greeting me with faux Chinese gibberish.
The students departing from term one made me realize how quickly I will leave this beautiful culture. This realization saturated color and light into Alicante, the way the impending demise of the Hogueras festivities glorified the celebration. But I also adore the culture of my home. I hope not to waste energy mourning the shortness of my trip and instead remain grateful for both my presence here and my incipient return home (where pho is).
The students departing from term one made me realize how quickly I will leave this beautiful culture. This realization saturated color and light into Alicante, the way the impending demise of the Hogueras festivities glorified the celebration. But I also adore the culture of my home. I hope not to waste energy mourning the shortness of my trip and instead remain grateful for both my presence here and my incipient return home (where pho is).