The In-Between.

After reaching the two-week mark, I'm starting to notice a slight shift in my perception of life here. While Santiago remains an immense, unconquered maze of new discovery, certain faces, places, and daily habits have started to become much more comfortable and familiar. But while the house has started to feel more like home and certain rituals have become routine, I feel this overwhelming sense that I am somehow living in the present while my heart is still so firmly attached to the past, as though I haven't necessarily embarked upon a new chapter of life here, but rather, that I've left and entire story unfinished and am now scrambling to begin another. I'm sure this is all just part of the process of acclimatization, that eventually things will begin to feel more normal but for now I seem to let my thoughts drift back home just a little too often. And if I try to concentrate on the here and now, I see only an obscure and dauntingly vast expanse of time ahead of me.

This is, of course, not to say that I haven't been enjoying myself here. Quite the contrary, in fact. I fill my days alone here with little excursions into the city, running, writing, reading in the shade of the apricot tree in the garden, working on my CV and drafting motivation letters, experimenting in the kitchen, and loosely sketching out plans for weekend trips to La Serena, Valparaiso, Mendoza and Buenos Aires. G and I also enjoy the occasional dinner out or drinks in the city with Sebastian & Co., have discovered that the best and cheapest coffee to be had is at the literary cafe in Parque Bustamante (definite favorite), and have a whole host of interesting things which we want to check out in the coming weeks, including the largest exhibition of Picasso prints in the world(!) in Providencia.

No, life is certainly good here. It's more than that, really. Maybe it's simply a question of letting my heart catch up, of not expecting too much too fast, of accepting certain inalienable truths. No one ever said this would be easy and the beginning is always the hardest part anyway. I just hope that the amazement and wonder with the new won't eventually wear off and leave me standing there watching my footprints disappearing in the sand behind me without being able to see the path ahead. Only time will tell, but I get the distinct feeling that, more than anything, it's going to be up to me.