You Made Me Love You. I Didn’t Want to Do It, Didn’t Want to Do It.

ABOVE: Lights of the town across the bay from my room in Igalo. I went arty with the camera and made the lights run.


D A T E L I N E : Thursday, 5 July 2007
Penultimate Day at the Institute
Igalo, Montenegro

You know a couple of weeks ago, I waxed melodramatic about how clingy I can be about things? Well, it’s true, even here in the weirdest back rehab spa I’ll ever visit in Eastern Europe. (Because there are so many others in Eastern Europe for me to judge against, right?) But, sitting here on the spacious private balcony of my room overlooking the blue-green waters of the Boka Kotorska and the surrounding hills, I’m getting a little sad that I’m checking out and leaving for Budva tomorrow, to go back to what used to be my normal life – life before the back injury, when I didn’t lay around all day trying not to move my back, when I worked more, cleaned bathrooms, hung laundry, and led walks up to the monastery 12 minutes from the hostel. When I went to the beach on my days off, took daytrips, walked around Old Time taking pictures, and could go to a bar at night with friends if I was off shift. I’m going back to the hustle and bustle of lots of strangers invading my space constantly and no chance to run around naked after a shower air-drying if I want to. I’m going back to what was supposed to be the 6-month adventure in Montenegro I was having, if my back hadn’t gotten hurt. I guess my adventure took a detour.

It’s funny, when this whole thing happened in the middle of May, I was so pissed off that my plans for the summer were being hijacked by the bad luck and clumsiness of a slip and fall accident. I had already gotten used to a month and a half of life in Budva with all new favorite things to do. And, I hated the even newer routine of lying around all day alone, trying to remain conscious when all there was for me was eating, sleeping, reading, watching DVD’s, and hanging out online. It was so frustrating not to be part of the Budva that I had gotten used to.

And now, over a month and a half later, I’m about to be discharged from the Igalo Institute with pretty much a clean bill of back health and I’m a little sad to be re-entering hostel society with all the activity and responsibilities that it carries with it. I’m a little sad to be leaving behind the slovenliness of laying around all day, every day, with no expectations on me except that I not move too much. And, I’m actually a little sad to leave behind these last 2 weeks of weird Igalo Institute routines that I’ve been developing sharply. God, maybe I’m just sad about losing yet another routine!

After tomorrow, I’ll probably never again wake up before 8:00am and be happy about going off to any sort of group activity. I’ll miss all the nice, pretty therapists who wrap me up in mud, point hoses of water at strategic parts of my body while I’m immersed in warm water, and demonstrate walking on tiptoes around the swimming pool for me. I’ll miss the cute waitress who calls me “my dear” and has a fresh, hot cup of black tea brewing at my table as soon as I arrive for dinner in the restaurant. I’ll miss being done with my day by 12:noon and having nothing else I have to do except lounge around on my balcony keeping myself entertained counting how many colors of blue I can see in the water below me. I’ll miss being so close to the promenade at Herceg Novi, which I can get to after a short, 50¢ bus ride, where there’s a great little movie theater that thinks it’s an art house, the best gelato café on the boardwalk anywhere, and a lovely cliffside walkway right next to the water which has even better people-watching than anything in Budva.

It’s interesting to me how much I dreaded coming here all this time, and now that I’m having to leave, I’m sad to go. That means I liked it here, I guess, which is the most surprising bit. Igalo turned out to be more than just good material to blog about in my snarky little way. It turned out to be a good experience that I’m not sorry I had.

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!