Yesterday, I had my last final exam. I stepped out and had that customary wash of relief that just forces you to smile and act like you drank too much coffee. I gave my friend Alan a huge hug, then I realized what the end of exams meant this semester; leaving this place I’ve grown to love. I started walking around and noticing all  of the tiny things I take for granted and will probably miss the most. The first thing I saw when I walked out the gated door, was the old man moving leaves out of the sidewalk with the rubber foot of his cane. He has become a part of coming home. Later, down the crowded sidewalks of 18 de Julio, I could smell the nut and popcorn vendors caramelizing fresh peanuts in their homemade carts. The sweet sticky smoke and their shouts of “Mani” fills the air everyday. I went into a clothes market after that. Every empty space is filled with something to sell like a labyrinth of imitation soccer jerseys , dulce de leche candies, and cotton clothing of all types. A little further, and another market has sprung up on the sidewalk with random objects for sale. I saw an antique wasabi bowl set, a fencing mask, some old Montevideo license plates, a creepy doll, and a million mate gourds with bombillas. A man was carefully pouring steaming water from his thermo into the gourd, trying not to disturb the little mountain of crushed leaves pushed up to one side. He sang under his breath, “tomando mate” (drinking or literally taking mate). These are the sorts of  things I am just used to. I walked back to calle Colonia where I live and didn’t even trip over the cracked sidewalk tiles that buckle over the roots of huge shady trees.

Last night, we walked to the Rambla and spent a freezing couple of hours staring into the water, sharing mate ourselves and singing oldies at the top of our lungs with our friend from next door, Emanuel. The Rambla and Parque Rodo have heard so many intimate conversations. They’ve both seen me laugh and cry and pour myself into my journal or take up the lives in a novel. If I look back to my first week here, it seems like ages ago. So much has happened, yet the time passed so quickly. Perhaps time isn’t as linear a thing as we like to make it with our calenders and watches. I just keep wondering if this semester has made me any different. Did I just learn things, soak up a little of the world and fit it into the categories I already had, or have I made entirely new spaces. I don’t think I’ll ever really know.