Back to the future

I woke up not knowing where I was. When I recognized my old room, I thought the last 8 years had been a dream. Then I saw the boxes.

Drawings on the shelve. Me being five. Big italian dictionary. Me being a teenager. A friend’s necklace hanging from my suitcase. Me loving people on another continent.

I got up and listened to Bon Jovi’s “These Days”, a weird habit I have when I come to Lausanne. Only this time, everything’s different.

Many questions came to my mind, such as “What’ll happen?”, “How will I find a job?”, “Am I going to be happy?”, “Will I change?”, “Have I made the right decision?”. I remembered a friend telling me: “Give me solutions, I have problems” instead of “Give me problems, I have solutions”. I smiled.

I guess I’ll have to deal with the weirdness and clean that room full of old memories. I can’t start again if I’m stuck with the past. It’s time Lausanne becomes my present and future.

~ by Stéphanie K. on September 14, 2008.

6 Responses to “Back to the future”

  1. At least the bedroom hadn’t changed too much. It’s fun and annoying to get home. It’s fun because that’s when you get home, get the car keys and go for a drive, see the streets that have souvenirs of a past life. It’s also the time when you notice the luxury of where you lived as a child… at least in my case.

    it’s also a question of recreating new friendships. What was so familiar is no longer so familiar. Neither are the people. Ÿou’re home at home but the opposite when in the streets.

    Where are the friends, where do they go out now. Have they traveled too?

    Welcome back and we’ll have to meet but have to wait till I get back from my trip and you from yours.

  2. Getting home after many years feels weird, because it’s not home for you, but for the person you were before you left. There’s a fear of going backwards or getting stuck, even though it’s impossible.

  3. “I’m dead. I’m dead and this is my funeral.” The people around me were the same as usual, with the same lives and the same problems…the cost of living, rush hour traffic, the new health tax that would take our last money…all things I used to worry about, long long time ago…”And you, what do you think of traffic jams and health tax?” “I don’t know – I said – where I live now we don’t have traffic jams or health taxes…” “you should understand him – explained my mother – He now lives in the North, and over there, things are different…”

    “I’m dead, this is my funeral and I have to escape from the coffin before the grave gets covered over me.” The following morning I woke up early, left silently my parents’ house and wandered around town all day long. So I did the next day, and the day after, and the day after the day after, and every single day after that, wandering around the town and looking for a sign…then, one day, I saw it. “Curso de espanol, manana a las 7”. Espanol?!? Do I really need to learn Spanish? Anyway, what else can I do? Come back to my parent house and see my living funeral? Keep on wandering like a restless soul? “…Yo me llamo Marco y vengo de Italia…”

    The course was not bad, lots of nice people from all ages and countries, speaking with many different accents…”Tomorrow, Pedro celebrates his birthday – they told me in the end – would you like to join us?” “I don’t know…I’m new here!” “Come on, we’re ALL new here! So I went to Pedro’s birthday, then to Maria’s party, then to Pedro and Maria’s spring party, then to their summer holidays…and everytime I met them, there were always new people to know, new places to discover, new parties to attend…

    A new life had started for me.

  4. What a nice text! Thank you for sharing! I can’t wait for my life to start again, but I’m sure your blog will be very useful during the next few weeks.

    What’s your story? Where did you live and did you come back to Lausanne?

  5. My story is a little more complicated. It started in Rome, the city in which I was born, and went on through Thessaloniki, Paris, Rome again, and then Lausanne, where I arrived one year ago. Most of the times, all these moves came by chance – a joke for Thessaloniki, something wrong with the University bureaucracy for Paris, a lot of unpredictable events for Lausanne – and in the end I’ve been able to use all these coincidences to find my way here.

    Whatever may be the reason that brought you back here, welcome back to Lausanne!!!

  6. So you speak italian, greek and french?!

    I tend to think that cities call us…

    Thanks for the welcome!🙂

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