Recap & Homeward Bound

So, this is it. My last night in the Hippo Hostel, in Budva, in Montenegro, in the Balkans. I am heading off to known and unknown elements back at home in the San Francisco Bay Area again in less than 5 hours. Sigh.

Before I get too much into thanking all those people who played any role in my many mind-boggling memories of this place from the past 6+ months, and then rehashing some of those memories in quick-witted fashion, I should say that I'm going back to the Bay, and hopefully finding a nice, new apartment in Oakland again, near the lake (anyone know of any good vacancies?) because I didn't manage to find an impressive new job in public radio anywhere else in the country that would necessitate my relocating out of the Bay Area so that I can practice the occupation that I have loved for almost 10 years now. So, sigh, again. I'm going back to my favorite city in the world, where the largest concentration of loved ones in my life reside, where all my favorite places and things are, and where my beloved is waiting for me to not have a long-distance relationship with him anymore. I'm not that bummed about going back, thus.

But, it's been quite an odyssey here these past several months. It's hard to be leaving this place that since April 5th, I've been calling Home, this beautiful, lively, hectic, scatter-brained, infuriating, wonderful place -- and that would be both the hostel AND the city of Budva. As far as life-changing, eye-opening, furiously intense, and adventurous chapters of a person's life, this ranks up there just under my 4 and a half years in college as the period of my "youth" that I'll think back to for the rest of my cognizant years on earth as a time when I met a world of wonderful people and things, and experienced the most in life. And, it all fit into a neat little window of half a year.

I'll remember a lot from this window: the places, the people, the sights, the conversations, the laughs, the torment, the mishaps, the food, the fun, the folly, the things I wrote about in this blog, the things I *didn't* write about, and everything in between. I think in Italian, the phrase mille locos, or something spelled similarly, translates to "a thousand crazies". Every last crazy of my mille locos these past 6+ months was worthwhile. From my early days here transitioning into this world, to my laid-up months with the back injury, to life in the trenches during the height of the heat, humidity, and water shortage of Budva, to the past month and a half when I've been able to double my number of red dots on the wall map I own of cities I've been to -- it was all worth it. All of it. That's right, I wouldn't have skipped this for anything in the world. Though, no, I also wouldn't do it again. Because I believe that the most life-affirming experiences we have, the ones that shape us with sledge hammers and not chisels, we can only have once, and must then move on to the next one. It's true, my therapist told me.

So, to recap: Martina is leaving the building. In just a few short hours. I'm traveling to London, New York, and Orange County for the next 2 weeks. I'll be back "home" the night of Thursday, October 25th. Everyone residing in the San Francisco Bay Area, I'll be expecting a massive ticker tape parade down Market Street that weekend. Thanks. And, I'll see you all soon, wherever you are.

Abandonment Issues, Separation Anxiety, and Yes, I'm Clingy.

Yesterday, a number of emotionally catastrophic things happened which caused me to analyze the nature of my clingyness. (Well, I guess we should first start with the admission that I am in fact quite a clingy person. I attach easily to people/things/routines. I need time for long, lingering good-byes. I stroll Memory Lane often. Etc.) But, all at once yesterday, two of my closest friends in the whole wide world left town after a short visit of only 6 days here in Budva. A long-term hostel guest named Simon, who's been here even longer than I have and became part of our little Hippo family, left for home. And, the first group of people I've really been able to connect with here since my unfortunate fall and subsequent withdrawal from hostel society, also left en masse. It was almost an orchestrated act of abandonment on the part of those I *thought* cared about me!

But, little did they know that their leaving would cause worse fallout than just making this a quieter, less interesting place to be. I was GRIEF-STRICKEN last night! INCONSOLABLE in my loneliness! Because I've realized since I've been here in Montenegro that when you're away from most everything that's familiar to you, all the things you know and love, you tend to hang on to anything, ANYTHING AT ALL, that's become remotely part of your world order for even a minute. Be it a person, a hair clip, a route you take to the post office, or a brand of yogurt, you attach to it more quickly, and are pretty much devastated when it goes away. Or, at least, this is the case with me.

The good thing about it is that you can make close connections with people using less effort than usual. And, like 10-year-olds leaving camp at the end of only a few weeks, you're crying and swearing that you'll keep in touch with each other forevermore when you have to part. But, the reality of it is, in our adult lives, when they're gone, you end up getting busy with other things (for me, busy with new hostel guests or the radio show or back-healing), and you move on a lot quicker than the initial emotions would lead you to believe you can. Does that make me fickle? An emotional liar? Or just better-adjusted, if given a couple of days?

I don't know. But, last night, I was sadly lying around trying to read, watch a DVD, work on a Ponta Planet script, make new playlists in iTunes, and I couldn't. I kept getting drawn back to writing -- my journal, the journal I'm keeping for someone else, emails, a letter I'm writing to a friend back home, all forms of writing! I even wanted to compose a poem or something, anything I could think of that would adequately encapsulate the profusion of feelings running rampant through me over all these people I just lost. None of it met the work order. So, I sent IM's to friends at home, complaining about the pain, and seeking solace for my separation anxiety. Then, I fell asleep.

But, something good came out of yesterday's little exercise in identifying my losses. And, being the self-aware, planner-type that I am by nature, I know that when I eventually leave Budva for home, I'll miss several things from here, and, given the length of this stay, it'll take more than a few days to recover from my long, lingering good-bye with this country. That in mind, I've put together a list of things that I'm going to start preemptively missing:

• mesaras (butcher shops) that'll grill the meat you purchase right then and there for you, free of charge
• Kajmak (a brand of cream cheese)
• having 2 corner stores within 5 meters of the house that sell fresh vegetables, bread, eggs, AND feminine napkins and toothpaste
• eating all of my meals at a patio table under a trellis of grapevines
• barbecuing every-other day
• hearing English spoken in at least 5 different accents at any given time
• prescription meds costing less than €2 per package
• and, narrow, stone alleyways inside old city walls almost everywhere you go.

I miss a lot of things right now (people and things I left in California, many of the friends I've made here who've already left, being upright for long periods of time since my back is still not fully-healed), and will probably miss lots more things to come. But, I got better this morning and stopped being weepy over Marin and Brian, Simon, Dan/Dane/Doug, and that hilarious Canadian couple, Chris and Jess, from Calgary. So, if that only took 24 hours, then, doing the math, I guess I'll stop missing Budva by Christmastime, after I've returned to the States.

On the other hand, I may always miss this place, regardless of the ups and downs I've experienced here, because this is just an incredible time in my life. And, anyway, I'm just clingy!