Last Australian Post. This is it, it is here, oh my god ohmygodohmygod. Breathe breathe; spaz out. I have a couple of days now to pack and spend time with my family and then I'm off, into the world. So the deal is that I have a one way ticket and 4 thousand dollars; Australian dollars, not Euros. The vague plan is to learn how to be an English teacher, work a couple of summer jobs and then hopefully settle down with some permanent hours of work in Madrid until at least June of next year. After that who knows, maybe I will stay in Spain, maybe I will skip over to France or Italy. The future is completely open right now.
Let me tell you something about myself..on my blog, who would have thought? I used to work in a nursing home. These folk were beyond regular interaction, they would lie in bed all day, be fed lamb which had taken a spin through the food processor, and have their adult nappies changed by my 19 year old hands. I wasn't a stranger to care work, having spent a very hard six months in the UK looking after disabled adults and children, but the nursing home broke my heart. These people had been lucky. Nobody had shot them, they hadn't fallen victim to disease, they hadn't been killed in an accident; they had lived to old age, something most of us aspire towards. In this home there was no dignity in old age. Very few of them could speak, most had dementia to the point of not recognising even the function of a spoon. Have I mentioned it broke my heart? There was a point to this; I haven't just decided to depress you all with my last post in Aus. The residents would die fairly often, usually in winter and usually in threes. There was a lady there who had long golden hair, maybe it was really white and had somehow taken on a yellow tinge from old age..like..teeth, but it was her pride and joy. Some days she'd ask me to plait it for her and other days she would snarl at me if I went anywhere near it. She died at the beginning of a shift, they came and collected her body and took her away, I was handed a garbage bag and told to put all of her personal items in it. They didn't even fill the whole bag. It broke my heart.
I quit my job there, but it is the reason I am going to Spain, with such little money and big dreams. If I'm lucky I might live into old age; I might have to lie on those beds and stare at the ceiling all day and overhear the care workers talk total crap. At least if I do, I will have my memories to live back through, I'll have 'that one time in Spain' or 'the perfect moment in Italy' maybe even 'when I was robbed in England' or even 'when that drunk dude flipped a hair-tie at Flower on the metro in Paris'. I want my life to be so full that I can live it over again in my memories. I hope I can hang onto them. I guess the point is that walking past that home every day reminds me to live my life, but let’s not get corny.
I feel like I have cheated you of a patriotic final Australia post. Right now I am deleting all of my favourites from my parents' computer. Oh wow. Oh wow. Thank you for reading my blog and actually being interested in my ranting, or atleast the pictures I post. Next post from...