Peru, it’s been too long.

The elevator arrives to the ground floor, I put the suitcases inside. I stop it with half body while waiting for my best friend to get in. As one of my Azeri friends holds the door, I say: “six years ago I came to Romania for the first time ever and I did not know anyone. I didn’t feel alone but today I’m happy to see these familiar faces and open arms. So, thank you.”

It has been more than three months since my past visit to Peru and I just could not figure out a way to describe how that felt. It had been six years since I came to Romania, too long, yeah?

I was constantly tired, sometimes barely awake. Meeting with each one of my siblings, parents and friends, it was like short electric shocks. I did not really have time to react.

But why am I writing about this today? Here’s why. When I hit Romanian floor, this determination in me fired instantly: I want to be more like them.

The clear vision of future my brother Josue has. How he plans things so carefully in the most cost/efficient way possible. He was the first face I saw landing in Lima. It’s like time never passed. Except that it did. I’m glad I could hear his daughter give her own opinions.

The dedication my sister Laura has to raise a family with three children. I have not done it, neither am I looking forward to. And I do not think I will ever understand what it is to settle as a latino immigrant in the USA, but being one (an immigrant) myself does make me wonder every day of her struggles, hope, faith and strength.

The incredible multi-tasking ability of my sister Ammi and her capacity to stay on top of everything. Caring so much for her relationship and loving her child with devotion. I have always admired her patience to educate others.

The resilience my sister Elisabet has. She is tough-skinned. Emotional, so very much. But results-driven. She does not work in vain. And she certainly gives her best at all times. I’m happy she shows my pictures to her son.

Mom. I wanted to cry and I couldn’t. She will never want to give her children away. And she will always be there to support them. To lecture them. Hate that part.

Dad. Bald (shaved, just saying). Beard (gray; okay: white). Stubborn. A sweet grandfather. Hard working.

So, how do I become more like them? I can’t. But here’s the thing. I have registered to driving lessons. I got myself a puppy (don’t ask me how it’s going). I have called the urban service to collect old stuff aaand managed to fully engage in the conversation in Romanian. All that and more personal initiatives I will not spoil over here, you guys -I’m keeping some things private.

Let’s just say I texted dad today at 7am his time to ask what drill machine I should buy. Do you think I cared about the time difference?

Published by Esteban Quevedo

I am a full-time observer. I enjoy reading while having a cup of coffee. I am an amateur runner. I love listening to silence and most of all: getting lost in time.

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