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Kayla Smith

December 3, 2016

November

Somehow it became Christmas time overnight. I was walking to the Metro station last week to find that three giant, fully decorated Christmas trees have appeared in my neighborhood. I went to school on Tuesday (our first day back after Thanksgiving break) to find the single largest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen inside a building that’s not a mall or an airport. The Mother’s Club spent half the day hanging wreaths throughout the halls, and I looked out the window while teaching one of my classes to find a complete nativity scene in the circle drive by the main office. Teaching at a Catholic school apparently means that your workplace turns into a Hallmark movie setting. And I’m happy about it. I didn’t feel well yesterday, so I went to Whole Foods for some soup and came home with a Christmas tree. I think we could all use a bit of holiday spirit right now.
 
November has been the strangest month. I felt like it kept offering things that it never gave. I turned 27 a few weeks ago, but I mostly ignored my birthday since it was the day before the election. I spent my birthday weekend volunteering for Clinton’s campaign, and then I spent a few days in a sort of numb shock afterward. 
 
There are few places I can think of more depressing than a DC high school the day after the election. I went to work in a daze and sat down in the English department room where my coworkers silently trickled in. We gave each other weak smiles and raised eyebrows instead of real hellos and we sat without talking until one of my coworkers finally voiced what all of us were thinking—“What am I supposed to say to the kids? What do I say?” Which no one had an answer for. Some teachers let their kids talk about it in class that day. Others let their students journal on a piece of paper that they were then free to rip up. I didn’t know how to talk about it that day, so I tried to avoid it instead, which went about as well as you might imagine. One of my 9th graders asked quietly from the front row, “Ms. Smith, how did this happen?” and I had to say, “I don’t know. I really don’t know.” 
 
 

I stayed in DC for Thanksgiving and spent half of Wednesday volunteering for the Salvation Army. My official job was to register other signed-up volunteers (check their name off the list and give them an apron or t-shirt), which I did while having an intense 4-hour conversation with two of my fellow volunteers (one of whom is a delightful woman in her 60s who embraced me before I left, told me that she thought we were long-lost sisters, and who declared us new best friends). On Thanksgiving day I made a pan of cornbread dressing and ate more of it than I will ever publicly confess to. I thought of some really excellent ways to procrastinate grading the giant stack of essays I brought home. One of my friends and I watched Fantastic Beasts together, and by together I mean we went to screenings of the same movie at the same time, even though we are 10 hours apart. This worked very well, except his theater showed one extra trailer, so my movie was about two minutes ahead, which meant I kept accidentally texting spoilers. I went to Annapolis. I went to Alexandria. I finished half a dozen college candidate interviews. I watched Gilmore Girls.  

 

I had to say a hard goodbye to a friend who’s moving away for work last night. Even though I’ve known I would have to say this goodbye for a long time, it didn’t make it any easier. I’m bad at goodbyes. I either want to avoid them altogether and sneak away unnoticed, or I want to prolong them indefinitely and create a spectacle of melodrama and too many words (which I stop myself from actually doing). The result is always underwhelming and full of things I mean to say but don’t. What feels like the real goodbye exists in my mind, but what plays out in real life is something else. It happens more than is fair that there are no words that would mean the right thing. 

 

I hang on hard to things. People, places, moments. I exist in a perpetual state of nostalgia and what I enjoy in the present I recognize as fodder for future nostalgia. Scorpios have the longest memory of all the signs supposedly, and I am the truest of Scorpios for my tendency to replay and replay and replay and remember everything. But November, for once, I’d be alright letting go of. 

Posted In: Washington D.C.

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Writer, educator, book lover, explorer, map collector, and elderly dog lover. Sharing thoughts, stories, and wonder as I go.

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kaylamichellesmith

During the 24 hours I was in Sarajevo, it stormed, During the 24 hours I was in Sarajevo, it stormed, I twisted my ankle, a tour I wanted to do was canceled, and I lost my debit card. But despite all this, I knew nearly immediately that I was obsessed with this city. 

Sarajevo isn’t the most beautiful place I’ve ever been, but it’s one of the most fascinating. The little I knew about Sarajevo, and the rest of Bosnia and Herzegovina, before visiting was outdated by 30 years. The war here happened so recently that my school textbooks were published before it but so long ago that I barely remember. The first time I ever heard of a place called Bosnia, long before I could find it on a map, was in a kid’s chapter book about the war, and what I took away from the story was that this was a terrifying and dangerous place that a person should never visit. 

What a gift it is to be able to correct your own past assumptions.

When I think about which places I’ve visited that I want to return to, Sarajevo is near the top of that list.
Leaving Budapest and the Schengen zone for Serbia Leaving Budapest and the Schengen zone for Serbia felt like heading into the Wild West—this was a very different Europe than I’d visited before. And to be honest, my first impression of Belgrade was not a good one. We arrived late at night after bus delays, and the bus station was closed. Late night transportation  options were questionable, and taxi drivers kept approaching way too eagerly and offering rides for ridiculous prices. This could have happened in any city, but in the moment it felt sketchy and tense.

The next morning, the city felt considerably less sketchy but still cold and unwelcoming. It took half a day, but finally we found a couple modern and popular areas of town full of bookstores and music and better vibes. And while I still wouldn’t say I liked Belgrade much, I’m glad I visited and glad that I was able to change my mind after my initial impression. And of course, I ended up loving the rest of the Balkans. 

I know so many people who LOVE Serbia. I’d love to go back and explore more of the country to find why they love it.
My monthly reminder that most of my photos are act My monthly reminder that most of my photos are actually dog photos and that I’m at my kitchen table far more often than I’m traveling. August had some lovely moments. @1samanthaaldana  @lindaa.xoxoxo
If you’ve ever wondered what I’m doing when I’m away traveling, it’s usually this. 

(Is there a single one of you who’s gonna watch 50 entires seconds of bookstores? @thebookeasy friends, I’m counting on you! 😂) 

Everyone, drop your favorite bookstore in the world in the comments! I’ll add them all to my travel list! 

I think my favorite of all these is @carturesticarusel in Bucharest. It’s indescribably magical.
For over a decade, countless people have told me I For over a decade, countless people have told me I should pursue a job as a travel advisor. I’m so glad I finally decided they were right. @hellofora 

Nothing brings me as much joy as helping others travel. But Instagram and its mysterious algorithm can only go so far in helping me reach people who want to hear more about what I can offer. So…I’ve decided to start a newsletter! 

In my newsletter, I’ll share special deals, perks, tips, and news for all types of travelers. I am planning to send a newsletter just once or twice per month, and you can trust that I won’t spam you! 

If you’d like to receive the newsletter, you can comment “Me!” below, and I’ll send you the easy sign up link! And I’ll be forever grateful if you help spread the word!
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