Apologies, as this is certainly coming months after it should have. However, I am finally getting around to typing up a Z-shaped bookend to 'An American Girl in Cochabamba'. I do this for you, my kind and devoted readers, for whom I wish I could continue living in South America and chronicling exciting adventures.
Alas, my year in Bolivia came to an end last November, and I made it back to New York in time to stuff my face with a traditional Thanksgiving feast.
Before leaving, I made the definitive decision not to return to Cochabamba in 2014. This was not because I disliked Bolivia or had had an awful experience during my AGiC days, but more so because I was ready to move on to new ventures. First and foremost, I wanted to have an extended stopover at home so I could spend time with family and friends, most of whom I had been distant from (both geographically and possibly emotionally) for many years. Following college, I chose to forgo the charm of small-town America for city life and foreign landscapes. These, I found, appealed to my senses in a way Middle-of-Nowhere, USA never could.
Additionally, I had felt a pang of guilt upon missing my niece's second birthday, and I vowed to stick around for her next one. I made good on this pledge, and I am very glad I did - not only because I was treated to Chuck E. Cheese mini-pizzas and the thrill of token-operated children's games, although that was doubtless a plus.
My plan was to live and work in a one-horse town for as long as I could stand, and devote what time I could to the family and friends from whom I had been apart. This lasted an impressive six months before I began to feel utterly entombed, and my mind started to wander where my body could not. As much as I would have liked to stay nearby my family, America - especially small-town America - and I had never seen eye-to-eye.
25 years on-and-off is a fair run, and no one can say I didn't give it the good 'ole college try. But, it was never meant to be, and I fancied a move back to my home country. I am very lucky in a number of ways, not least being that I arranged a long, drawn-out goodbye period before I actually left for England. I wanted to spend the time I had with my family, knowing it was be some time before I saw them again.
Additionally, I knew I had an extended family to return to in the UK. My aunts, uncles, cousins and their children all live within relative proximity to one another. Now I get to indulge in another, well-missed, side of my rather large extended family. Having a safety net await you at Heathrow makes the leap slightly less seismic.
So, perhaps not quite as daring as my Bolivian escapade, but a thrilling new chapter in my life all the same.
For those of you who are interested, I have put up a post re: the recent move (interwoven with musings on Bill Bryson and his own ex-pat exploits) on one of my other blogs. You can read that here: http://trynabeagrownup.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/the-continent-i-lost.html and don't forget to continue following my latest adventures (and share them with your friends!) as I post them.
Thank you all for allowing me to share my personal reflections with you during this undertaking. What a fantastic journey 'An American Girl in Cochabamba' was!
And now, as my father would say, "Onwards and upwards!" - I'll be waiting for you on the other side.
- Jessica
