Beginning of the End

Today we had our last Literature class, with my favorite teacher, Sigrid (Siggy). While sitting on the rooftop of our school building, we discussed the last book we read in class. Zorba and the Greek. It's a tale of the Greek culture and what it means to truly live. Appropriate, huh?

As Siggy was reading an excerpt from the book, I looked around at the world that had so quickly become my home. The endless white buildings cascading through out the mountains. The scattered blue domes of churches, here and there. The calm Aegean sea, surrounding the Port of Paros. My classmates listening intently, yearning for every last bit of knowledge from this wonderful teacher.

Surprisingly, I got choked up. I realized that this beautiful way of learning had become normal to me. And that soon...it would be gone.

When class came to an end, there was a long, comfortable silence. It was like an understanding. An understanding that we had learned all that we could from this place and that it was time to move on. Siggy stood up, abruptly ending the silence. "Don't let it end here, gang. Keep it going, alright?"

And with that, the class was over.

It was the first of many goodbyes. More hugs and silent understandings to come. Silent acknowledgement of what went on here. Of the gratitude we each have for each others' presences in our lives.

Since, for the time being, we're silently explaining our time here...I'll let Zorba do the talking.

“I was happy, I knew that. While experiencing happiness, we have difficulty in being conscious of it. Only when the happiness is past and we look back on it do we suddenly realize—sometimes with astonishment—how happy we had been. But on this Cretan coast I was experiencing happiness and knew I was happy.” - Zorba the Greek