A fully assimilated college student
preoccupied with classwork
and all the things to do today
making sure I keep my social life
eat a balanced diet
(although I'll likely opt for a nap)
and do all the things I'm supposed to
as a fully assimilated college student.
Yet with a small, almost inconceivable thing
--a smell, a sight, a taste--
Suddenly, I'm back.
Something seemingly normal has transported me
to a time, and to a place, I so long for.
without having to buy a plane ticket
I am back in Nicaragua.
With the slightest hint of coffee teasing my nose
I am suddenly in the mountains drinking
the actual world's best coffee
and witnessing the arduous and passionate process behind it.
Whenever the over-played Despacito comes on
I am back dancing late into the night
surrounded by friends and singing the words
free of all the day's worries
and, of course, making fun of the Justin Bieber's rendition
And yesterday in Sociology we discussed
the social implications of Coca-Cola
And suddenly I remember the mother
who cried as she told us of the loss
of her husband and sons due to liver disease
from the terrible conditions on the sugar plantation,
sugar that is used in soda and so many other things
and her final words to us:
"Tell others our story..."
And how many times have I told that story?
A few at best.
And sometimes I get to courage to voluntary go there
the emptiness in monotony gets to me
and I desire those strong feelings of joy, frustration, love, all of it
So I dig past the artificial list of the day's activities
and seek after those repressed feelings and stories.
And the pictures bring it all back. Immediately.
Not just the experiences, but the feelings.
The feelings of synchronized comfort from others
but discomfort in the days' challenges
the endless nights staring at the stars
pleading with God for life direction
But most of all the pure joy and laughs
even when I couldn't always understand the joke.
But then reality hits me
I realize, that time and place as I knew it
no longer exists. I can't truly go back.
nostalgia seems both satisfying and wrecking.
To make this illusion into reality,
I must embrace the lessons and feelings from there.
And sometimes, very occasionally
as I'm caught in the things of my assimilated college life
I decide to take the time to glance at the stars
or dance freely with friends
or call to check on my mom in the US and Nicaragua
And maybe once, I'll write about it
in an attempt to capture the illusion of Nostalgia
Only to realize, I can't.