Friends

When I started college, back in '96, I had this naive idea that it would somehow be like the series, "Friends": a bunch of people together, spending time, getting to know each other, joking and having fun. Well, for the most part it was like that; I met a variety of people coming from all corners of the country, some of whom I am still in touch with. We spent most of the time together, in a social environment that I have been unable to recreate ever since; I got to know them, their backgrounds and upbringing, their preferences, their quirks and pet peeves, I laughed with them, I cried with them, I loved them above anything else. They were my world. The weekend, when I got home, was unbelievably dull compared to the hectic weekdays in the apartment across the street from the university's main building (just a note: that apartment was nasty, the landlady was a pain in the neck, but nothing beats waking up at 8.45 and getting to class perfectly on time at 9...). After a while, though, things fell apart with a few of the roommates, and I remember as one of my best days the time when I finally moved out and didn't have to rent a place anymore. College was almost over (at least mandatory attendance was), so I could leave the city and go back home in the comfort of my own space, without people yelling at each other for cleaning shifts, or dish washing, or what have you.
in 2000 Madrid was nothing short of a debacle. Three weeks to find a place, moving from hotel to hotel and living off the already meager grant I had received. Three weeks of McDonald's, phone calls to apartment owners and despair. I was rejected most of the times because my Spanish wasn't good, they could tell I was a foreigner so they would just say (sometimes even politely) that it was not available anymore. After those three weeks I managed to find an apartment, and it soon turned out to be like living in a soap opera - 4 girls, one of which was pocketing the extra money she got from charging the other 3 some 100 pesetas above the rent, while in the meantime living off of and carrying out an affair with a married man, and trying to slit her wrists when he decided he didn't want to pay for her rent anymore. The landlady kicked us out in December, so I moved in with one of the roommates (an American girl), only to find out that it wasn't the best solution - sharing an apartment with another girl, apparently, is a source of frustration for someone with a low self esteem, who thinks that her roommate is after every single man she invites. Oh well. I would have agreed if she had invited someone worth the pain, but I guess she just didn't need me anymore, so I left again.
In 2001, in LA, I was lucky enough to choose as my living arrangement a student-owned building two blocks away from school. 420 students, from the most diverse countries, all packed in three close buildings, everybody having breakfast, lunch and dinner together; not a moment when you would be by yourself unless you chose to, not a moment when at least one person knew where you were or where you were going. I lucked out with my roommate, a wonderful person that shared my same feelings of displacement, a European in a foreign land. We became great friends, and there's not a single week in which we don't email, even though we haven't seen each other face to face in 3 years.
Now, a few years later, I try to recreate the same environment in a different place. I have met some great people here, again coming from all corners of the country AND the world, but at the same time I decided that I didn't want to live with anybody, at least at the beginning. It's nice to come to school and meet them in the morning, have a cigarette together, chat from our offices across the hall, go to class, spend time and enjoying each other's company. Again, the weekend is a bit dull compared to the weekdays, but I guess that's what happens when all the people you meet have something more important to do during the weekend (families, partners, and what have you). It's ok, I'm the last one to complain about it, since I have my books, my beads, my phone calls to my family, and a lot of time to think - which I sadly miss during the week.
I guess by now I'm over the utopia of living in a sitcom; I guess I'm not over loving my friends (new and old) very much, and hoping that we can build ties that will last a lifetime.