Dona E. Bowens

Thirty days! That’s all that’s left, in this, my American sojourn. And I’m feeling ALL the emotions. Anxious? You bet. I think I’m a bit OCD with a smattering of ADHD because I’m trying to be so organized and efficient that I’m making myself loonier than I already am. I keep coming back to the wisdom of one of my students from Spain who said, “Yeah, but you’ve done this before.” True.

With 30 days to go, I’m tearful thinking of all the support I have coming from friends, family and neighbors. The friends. My God. Who can say that they have friends all over the globe? THIS humbled woman. The friend already in Montevideo who answers all my questions and welcomes them no matter how trivial. The friends in Barcelona who say, “We love you, chica, but you’re making the right call. We’ll be dropping in to see you.” And I know that they will because one is already checking flights so she can help me apartment hunt. Bless her. The 40-year friends who’ve known me since before I knew my damn self. Let me tell you, these women got you at your craziest, your lowest, your happiest. Do you know that one of these 40-year friends bought my little baby house without blinking and then another friend of 40 years decided to rent it from the friend who bought it and told me that she’d like to use my dining set and other things. This means less I’ll have to move to storage. These bitches just out here making dreams come true. And yeah, the 40 year friends are already planning to drop by Uruguay…and I know they will because they all came to Barcelona, didn’t they? And some of them came a couple of times. It’s definitely not goodbye but see y’all in ’26? There’s friends who you don’t talk to often, but when the struggle/adventure gets real, they show up with pompoms ready to cheer your ass on and get you to where you need to go. Then they fade into the background until you need each other again.

There’s some stuff I just can’t part with and I will have shipped once I find a permanent (?) place. Stuff like Aunt Mon’s Davenport. I cannot wait to see it in whatever flat I find because the flats are cheap AF and I’m itching to decorate again. My artwork is coming, too. But until I find that perfect piso, I asked my brother if my stuff could ride it out in his basement. And he was like, “Yup.” He’s always been a man of few words. That’s family. Then there’s the xellinial cousin who’s “honored” to be my emergency contact and the boomer, artist cousin who’s like, “Run. Run now. But don’t go to Brazil. I’ve had some times in Brazil…” OK, family. I’ll steer clear of Brazil…I think. And Auntie Edna is relieving me of my car which is another worry off my mind. Thanks, family.

When I watched my neighbors, originally from Liberia, cart my old couch up from the basement wearing a pair of flip flops, I was reminded of the scene from Hamilton talking about, “Immigrants, we get the job done.” They also took my TVs, some decorative items and an armchair with the intent to pass them along to other immigrants who can use them. Told me whatever I don’t want, they will take because, damn it, they’re neighborly that way. And they have been exceedingly neighborly, shoveling my sidewalk and drive in the winter and cutting down trees that topple during storms. Tree fell 3 weeks ago when a tornado was spinning through the area. Landed smack between our garages and stretched out into the driveway. I looked out the window and was grateful that it managed to miss both our garages when it fell. “I’ll talk to Kwali in the morning about cutting it down,” I said to myself before going to bed. Do you know that these neighbors, again in flip flops, had the tree cut up and cleaned up by 9:30 in the morning. Immigrants be getting the job done. Kwali’s wife told me that they’re not worried about the current political bullshit because, “All of our papers are in order.” I pray the universe protects them. That’s all I can say about that without spiraling into a rant.

If you’re reading this, consider yourself invited to my joint going-away par-tay. One of my 40-year friends is setting off on an adventure of her own and we leave within a day of each other. Her to France and Spain and me to Uruguay. So we’re celebrating together at the Tiki Underground on August 17, 2-6 p.m. And if you show up, be prepared to cut up…that’s the only rule. See you soon friends, family and neighbors.