Uma Semana Já

It’s been an interesting transition back to the United States.  Not only the present, but the past seems so foreign to me.

The Lydia I am now doesn’t seem to fit into this frosted world of frumpy coats and boots and frozen smiles.  When I click through old photographs, it is difficult to recognize the middle child of my family, to place myself in her unguarded eyes.  As the daughter of two missionary kids, I’ve heard the basics of Reverse Cultural Shock 101.  I knew that I was going to feel like an alien.  I just didn’t realize the extent to which I would feel unfamiliar unto myself.

Dad said I can’t just forget the old me.  I need to accept the chubby middle-schooler, the too-nice, naively people-pleasing high-schooler, the chubbier college freshman, the save-the-world, Spanish-speaking, orphan-hugging sophomore, and the invisible, love-sick, hidden hermit junior as all part of what’s shaped the present me.

So, instead of deleting the rest of all my unflattering old Facebook photos, I deactivated my account (again).  I decided that it’s all I can do to keep up with my face-to-face friends without trying to include past pages in the present chapter of my book.  Seriously, though, people.  There is always email.

In a rare moment of isolation and inspiration amidst the almost-Christmas bustle, I managed to pen this poem to express how quickly time and transitions can run away from you.

Uma semana já
Passou sem parar
Passou sem me permitir
Tempo pra pensar
 
Uma semana já
Passou sem parar
Passou sem mim ver
O sol nem céu azul
 
Uma semana já
Passou sem parar
Passou sem mim conversar
Na língua que me apaixonou
 
Uma semana já
Passou sem parar
Passou sem mim sentir
O rítmo do mar
 
Uma semana já
Passou sem parar
Passou sem mim andar
Nas ruas do meu coração

Creative Translation:

One week already
Passed by without stopping
Passed by without allowing me
Time to think
 
One week already
Passed by without stopping
Passed by without me seeing
The sun nor the blue sky
 
One week already
Passed by without stopping
Passed by without me talking
In the language that I’ve learned to love
 
One week already
Passed by without stopping
Passed by without me feeling
The rhythm of the sea
 
One week already
Passed by without stopping
Passed by without me walking
Through the streets of my heart
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2 thoughts on “Uma Semana Já

  1. Hi Lydia, I went to school with your parents in Brasil – that is, if they are Robert & Karis! I am now the MK Coordinator at my mission. I would love to publish your this blog and poem in a MK newsletter that I send out. Is that okay? And I have lots of saudades from Brasil!

    • Hi! Actually, they’re my Uncle Robert and Aunt Karis. My parents are Brian and Lesley Koehn. 🙂 Sure, I would love for you to share my blog and poem in your newsletter! They were inspired by the 6 months I spent studying abroad there last semester as I wanted to experience life in the country of my parents’ childhoods.

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