After fifteen days of eating with hundreds of people in a large, wood dining hall, running to a lecture, class, conference or gathering, writing often, listening and giving readings, attending social events, and receiving critiques in my writing workshops, I was heading home.
I wished my classmates well, while exchanging information with the intentions of keeping in touch. Saying goodbye to Shirley and Maritza, two women who worked in the dining hall, was particularly tough. They’re warmth and encouragement meant so much.
I packed my belongings, returned the keys, and a fan that not only provided cool air, but a distraction from the incessant din outside my window. I passed my newly acquired hotpot on to a new and dear aquaintance. I took a taxi to Union Station for the Metro North back to Grand Central Station and sat in one of the six-seat compartments, this time with five people I knew.
The overall experience was exhausting and invaluable. I look forward to articulating them in the days to come.