This time in 24 hours I will be on a plane home to California.
I mean, I guess there’s worse places to go home to.
But packing up all my crap and knowing I have to leave feels worse than the ugliest breakup.
You might remember my blog post “three weeks down, three months to go.” Well, about three weeks ago it was “three months down, three weeks to go.” And we were sitting at a table at U Sudu on Czech Independence day, sort of sad but also simultaneously really happy because it was such a good day filled with food and beer and friends, talking about how some of the best parts of abroad may not have even happened yet because we still had so much time left.
Those three weeks were the fastest of my entire life I think. But I digress.
So we’re in U Sudu talking and laughing over a Pilsner when, out of all the songs to possibly come on, “What a Wonderful World” starts to play. So OBVIOUSLY we start to sob, and then laugh about the irony of the situation- three girls crying in a bar to Louis Armstrong.
That was a Monday. I remember because school was cancelled for the holiday, and I don’t have class on Tuesdays.
So that Tuesday, Mandy and I decide to go to the gym, but instead ended up dicking around town and trying to find Prague’s best trdelnik. Typical. We stumble upon this hole in the wall Czech restaurant near Old Town Square where we both order beers and goulash in a bread bowl. They were setting up the Christmas markets so it was pretty crowded and busy, but there’s a band playing—can you guess what song?
Yup. A random Czech band started playing What a Wonderful World right as Mandy and I were walking through the square back to our apartment. I swear, I hadn’t heard that song in maybe six years and all of a sudden I hear it in Prague, twice in the span of 24 hours? It was the universe telling me to take it all in.
We were right to assume that the best parts of abroad hadn’t happened yet. The last three weeks have been some of my favorite, mostly because they’re hard to articulate to anyone who hasn’t spent the last four months here. I could tell you about them, I guess, but trying to explain them just wouldn’t do it justice.
It’s really, really bittersweet.
Arguably the weirdest part about leaving is saying goodbye to my professors and classmates that I’ve met here. It’s like “Thanks, I really enjoyed your class and have a Merry Christmas” directly translates to “have a nice life,” because realistically when am I ever going to see them again? I don’t even know if I would ever want to come back to Prague because any subsequent trip wouldn’t be the same without the friends and people I’ve met here with me.
But on the other hand, it’s kind of nice that we’re leaving on such a high note.
It was the trip of a lifetime. I can’t even begin to explain the memories I’ve made, but that’s okay. I love you, Prague.
Until the next adventure,