Yesterday was my 25th birthday, and aside from celebrating the fact that I can now rent a car in the United States, the only other thing worth noting about this milestone is that it was the first time in three years that I was able to spend my birthday at home in Boston with my family and friends. Born in July, my birthday had always been associated with summer heat, shorts, vacation and all of the fun that comes associated with that. Yet my last two were spent in cold temperatures, throwing off my idea of what the day meant to me. It was a scorcher yesterday and reminded me of days past, but I still think of how somewhere else in the world it’s the middle of winter.
For the special day I headed in to Boston to meet up with my buddy Goldberg and other old friends. Even though I’ve been back home for almost two weeks, this was the first time I’d gone to Boston, aside from a quick side trip as I got lost on my way up to Maine on Tuesday. Getting off of the commuter rail in Back Bay, I walked to Copley Square and took the Green Line of the T. Looking up at the Hancock Tower and the churches, buildings, hotels, it all seemed so familiar yet novel. It really is a beautiful city, and it almost hurts me to hear people complain about it. As if they’ve seen enough to know a thing or two.
Goldberg lives in Brighton, and it was there where we met up and eventually headed in for dinner at a bar called Rattlesnake in Back Bay, where the service was terrible. We left after eating and headed to a piano bar called Howl at the Moon. I’d never been to a piano bar before, but it was a lively scene as we entered. Two pianists went head to head with different songs and renditions of popular themes throughout the night while my friends fed me drinks and we reunited and caught up. I still haven’t totally felt the lull of coming home yet, though I can feel the rush of being back starting to wear off. One thing is for certain, that it will happen at some point.
You get to a point where you simply feel the difference, and like it or not, I’ll be dealing with it for a time. I went to school in the United States, but I was more recently educated in Latin America. Many of the lessons I learned and experiences that I’ve gathered are mine alone and hardly any can relate to them, yet they have shaped who I am and will continue to be. That doesn’t have to set barriers or hinder me from furthering relationships with other people, but it does make things slightly more complicated. It might not be so serious, but I also don’t think I’m being overly dramatic.
But hey, I’ve been fortunate enough to cover a large chunk of the world before hitting 25, and there’s still more wanderlust within me. This month is going to put my moniker of Travel Guy to the test. I’ve already been up and down the Atlantic, from Rio de Janeiro to Buenos Aires, landing in Miami, to Boston and Maine. On Tuesday I’ll be heading to Washington DC for three days and returning on Friday. At some point in the next few weeks I also need to visit New York and try to squeeze in Cape Cod and Amherst. There’s hardly any rest for the weary. Then of course I’ll be relocating to Washington DC for the next two years at the end of August. And so the next adventure begins: a repat out-of-towner.