Something Will Remain

Soundtrack of this post:

Lakehouse by Of Monsters and Men

I leave Europe in less than 24 hours. I can't even begin to describe my last week here. My heart is so humbled and incredibly grateful. I'm completely in awe of the beauty and opportunity that I've been blessed with this semester, especially this past week.

Champs d'Elysees in Paris

Yummy dinner in Rome--Tortellinni with Meat Sauce

At the end of the Champs d'Elysees with the Eiffel Tower in the background

Standing on the Seine River with the Eiffel Tower in the background

Dinner with Zack on La Motte-Picquet in Paris

The Eiffel Tower

In front of St. Peter's Basillica in the Vatican

Eating gelato at the Trevi Fountain in Rome

Making a wish in the Trevi Fountain in Rome

In front of the Colisseum in Rome

Feeding the pigeons on top of the Spanish steps in Rome

Catching up on sleep on the flight from Athens to Rome

Once again, catching up on sleep in the Athens airport

Standing in front of the Mona Lisa

Goofing around in the Louvre with Zack

Freezing on the Seine River with Notre Dame in the background

Walking beneath Paris in the Catacombs--millions are buried here

Standing in front of the Louvre Museum's pyramid

Having fun at the Palace of Versaille--home to French royalty

Standing in Marie Antoinette's bedroom in the Palace of Versaille

Indulging in some chocolate by the Christmas village on the Champs d'Elysees

This may sound crazy, but it almost brings me to tears to think about how grateful I am. I was sitting in a cafe writing and reading yesterday. I, all of a sudden, looked out the window and watched the Parisians walking by. The Eiffel Tower off in the distance. The off and on rain drizzling down onto the freezing pavement.

I thought to myself...how did I end up in Paris?

I thought of my last year. Finding the best of friends. Finishing my first year of college. Discovering what it is that I love to do. Seeing my family through some incredible struggles, then miraculously overcoming them. Traveling through out Europe, by myself, and seeing the world. Studying art on a Grecian island, with beautiful people who I will always remain in my life. Learning about myself and the world from encounters with every corner of life. And finally, ending up in Paris. A place I've wanted to go since I was a little girl. Something I've dreamt of doing for so long, but it always seemed unrealistic.

But, here I sit. If I could capture time in a box and hold onto this realization forever, I would. If I could find the right words to express the gratitude I have for all of the blessings I've received in this past year, I would. If I could hug all of the people that have gotten me to exactly where I am in this moment, I would.

The things I've learned this year, the past four months especially, are immense. I've learned not to second-guess myself. To go with my heart and my passions. Take life day by day, enjoying all the little things that we often overlook. Dedicate my time and compassion to people everyday. Get to know others. Love genuinely. Write everything. Take struggles by the hand and walk them through to the lessons they teach us. Be grateful for every single person. Pause more. Keep an open mind. Live radically.

As I board my plane tomorrow for my 17-hour flight home, I won't be thinking of how sad I am that it's over. Or how I'll explain my experiences to my loved ones at home. Or even how long of a flight lay ahead of me.

I'll be thinking of how every second of this journey has been worth it. Every story, inside joke, ferry ride, Philosophy class, film watched, island, plane ride, conversation--will be talked about years from now.

Thanks to the Big Man upstairs for this past year. For blessing me with this opportunity to see the world. And to my parents for supporting me in doing this and encouraging me to follow my dreams; even when they're completely illogical and irrationally specific.

Efkharisto. Gratsi. Merci. Thank you.

The Final Act

My final hours on Paros have finally arrived. It's strange, really. A concept that seemed so distant and foreign to me, is now here. I'm done with HISA. I'm done with Greece. I'm done with these people. It's a very weird feeling.

As I finish up the final packing. The emptying of my apartment. Planning for the next and final act in this trip. A narration of thoughts and memories play out in my head--

"Saying goodbye to these people has been harder than I imagined. Siggy. The Fabulous woman and friend who taught me so much about myself and the world and what it means to be a full person.

"Don't let it end here." -Siggy

George "The Crane" Crane, my writing teacher who mentored me in a way that I've never experienced before. He brought out the writer in me. Encouraged me and guided me. He made me better.

"Baby, you do it. And you do it well. Keep on doing it." -The Crane

Lynnie, a woman who has become so close to me. She's taught me how to be a confident and strong woman. One who's sure of herself and goes after her dreams. I'll miss our late-night talks, debriefing the days' lessons and activities. Blurting terrible 90's lyrics at the top of our lungs. Gorging on chocolate every chance we got.

"You feel that for a reason. Follow your instinct." -Lynnie

Catherine. The first person I met in Greece. The crazy sorority girl who rode the metro with me to our hostel in Athens. A girl who I've grown to love and care for deeply. Who, though we're polar opposites, has been by my side this entire experience.

"You affect people with the way you act. It's not something you have to say." -Cat

These are only four of the many, many goodbyes that I've encountered this week. It's been like one, long dream. Days blurring together. Sunsets becoming the same. Last night I didn't even sleep. No. Lynne and I stayed up to watch the sunrise. We didn't talk about the end. Random things were discussed, avoiding what we knew was coming. I think we might have actually discussed American politics. Great morning conversation, right?

I don't think I'll really know what Paros has done for me until I'm home. That first day when I'm home alone. Walking around my home in California. The Mediterranean nowhere in sight. My friends scattered across the United States. My life in Greece only a distant memory. I think that's when I'll begin to see how HISA has changed me. How Paros has infiltrated every fiber of my being. The way I think. Act. Speak. Believe.

My biggest fear in returning is responding to the question, "How was Greece?" There are so many things I could say, but nothing seems to do it justice.

As my time here comes to a close, I think about the next scene in my life. Continuing on as a writer. Renewing relationships with loved ones back home. Immersing myself back into the culture at Point Loma. Applying what I learned here to my life. Bridging the gap between Arielle now and the Arielle that people knew before. I think about how grateful I am to have gotten to know these beautiful people. For this group of friends, that I've always wanted, who make me feel fantastic for exactly who I am. They know me as I am, and that I'll miss. For this unique way of educating that has taught me more in three months than I've learned in 13 years of school.

I'm so grateful. Humbled by love, intellect, and the profundity of this time.

Top 10 Moments in Greece:

Riding Donkeys & Cliff-jumping in Santorini

Goddess Class Rituals

Spending the Night in our Empty Classroom

The Reading

Goodbye Dinner


My Last Night with Lynne

Day-hike in Santorini


Temple of Apollo & Dinner in the Hills

Night in Naxos


Thanksgiving Day

I'm not good with goodbyes. I don't think anybody really is. But earlier on in the semester, we read this poem during Lit class. It really impacted me because it was the first time I saw something tangible describe my time on Paros. So, I think it's appropriate that I end with this:

Ithaca by Cavafy

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.

The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon -- do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.

The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.

Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.

Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.

I fly to Rome tomorrow. Gelato, pizza, popes, & ruins.
Then, I'm off to Paris.
And then...home.

"Paros, Figs, Life of the sea-- farewell thee Paros." -Archilochus



Here's Lookin' At You Kid

8AM Departure by The Perishers
"I feel detached. Like it's not going to hit me until I get home."

Not five minutes later, we were all in tears at the port, walking our friends to the ferry. The HISA gang just said their first round of goodbyes. Marcus, Anna, Grace, and Mariana left Paros tonight. The tears were plenty. And unexpected.

There was a moment there, when I stopped to take it all in. Hugs were being exchanged between friends. Fits of awkward laughter broke through tears. Witty recounts of stories and inside jokes were made to mask the underlying sadness. It was moving. To see all of these people who, three months ago were only strangers, were now sharing a departure of old friends.

One group down. Four to go.

After spending a beautiful weekend together: sharing our semester's hard work at the Reading and Exhibition, singing at Republic's Karaoke night, rooftops bonfires, goodbye brunches and sunsets. It was hard to finally say goodbye. It was the first time that the end felt real.

I'm not trying to be overly dramatic. It's not the end of the world, and I know everything will be just fine. But goodbyes hurt, nonetheless. Especially this one. With these people. In this place. After this experience.

After the ferry pulled out of the port and the car exhaust cleared from the pick-up circle, the remaining stood there. Posing the wordless question...now what? We looked around at each other, puffy eyes and sad smiles. Without discussion, we began walking towards our school building.

Someone had lifted the key so that we were able to spend one last night in the classroom. The room where everything happened. Where we'd met. Worked. Learned. Taught. We made our way through the empty building, collecting food and drinks from all corners of the kitchen area. We made ourselves a picnic of chips, popcorn, and coke on the bare floor. My friends and I looked like children, sitting Indian style and surrounded by junk food. We talked about our time here. What we hoped for our futures. Our thoughts on leaving the island. And each other.

After five hours, two movies, and three bags of chips...we made the journey back to our apartments. Where we returned to our respective rooms, exhausted from trying to make sense of it all. I sit in my, now empty, apartment. Pictures down. Barren closet.

There are still more goodbyes to come, including the biggest of them all--Paros, itself. I think it's safe to say that I'll be exhausted, in more ways than one, when I finally end up back in California.

Until I cross the pond, here are some pictures from the final weekend.

Goodbye sunset with Sara, Isabel, and Lynne

The Writers after our Reading on Friday

Lynne and me practicing before the show

Messing around with Isabel's Interrelated Media Project

Zach, Lynne, Mike and Michelle looking at the Photographers' Exhibition

Zack working his Interrelated Media Project

George "The Crane" Crane (my writing teacher) and me in our film debut--

Zach's film project being projected during the Exhibition

Some of the HISAs during the Exhibition on Saturday

Performing my pieces at the Reading

The HISA building during the Exhibition

Being one with Kerri's Interrelated Media project

The Product

Tomorrow night is our Reading. The Creative Writing students, who have been working hard all semester long, finally get to showcase their work.

We'll be performing pieces for the rest of our program, students from the other art school on Paros, and any locals who are interested in attending. Poetry. Prose. Monologues. There's something for everyone. I'll be reading three short stories that I've written--chronological snippits of my character's transformation through out her story.

I'm excited. Nervous. Anxious. Sad. Nostalgic. This Reading marks the end of our time together. Of our classes. Relationships with teachers and fellow students.

It's all very surreal.

That we've been here for so long. That we're through with the semester. That we're going to be saying goodbye very shortly. As the first group of people depart this Sunday, the end will begin to sink. While we're all more than ready to start the next steps of our lives, there are parts in all of us that want to hold onto Greece for as long as we can. This culture. These beautiful people. The love and passion and hard-living that we've seen here...it's unmatchable.

Abandoned church in Paroikia

Sitting at the abandoned church watching the ferry leave the Port of Paros

Frankish castle in Paroikia

I won't say goodbye to Paros yet, but I'm slowly preparing myself for departure. Which, by the way, is in eight days.

Until then,
Kalinichta (Goodnight)