A Year Outside of the Classroom: Chapter 25- Minneapolis Memories

Last week, I fell in love with the city of Minneapolis.

                I fell in love with the latte art in my caramel soy latte. I fell in love with the feel of used books with endless stories in their bounds at a small bookstore. I fell in love with the colors: the colors of the city lights at night, the colors of the graffiti art painting the life of the city on its walls, and most importantly, the color of its people. I fell in love with every ethnicity, with the ten different cultures decorating a single street, the languages on store signs, decorating the city with its calligraphy. I went zip-lining through the mountains and woods of Minnesota, where the drop felt more relaxing than terrifying, and shared laughs with a dear friend and her family.

                My best friend introduced me to the streets of her home, narrated stories of her childhood. I got to sit in her living room (after planning this trip for FIVE YEARS), listen to her and her mother speak with their native Oromo tongue, and fall in love with the sound of a language I did not understand.

                She had spent days and nights with my family, so many actually that when she eventually moved back home to Minnesota following college, my family and I felt a gaping hole in our home that could only be filled by her presence. She grew so used to our Arabic that she could catch snippets of our conversation and understand what we were talking about. Even one year after she’s moved home, we still go to certain places and say, “Remember when we were here with Iftou,” or “All we’re missing is Iftou.” In school, I grew accustomed to meeting her right after class, where she would be waiting for me with two Americanos in her hands: one with a pump of white chocolate mocha for her and the other with a pump of vanilla for me. 

                So while in Minnesota, I planned to leave my imprint in her living room couch, her car with the music we clashed over, in the coffee shops she took me to, and the restaurants we laughed over dinner at.

                During this one year outside of the classroom, I’ve had to reevaluate who’s important to keep in my life after graduating. You will find that you cannot do long-distance friendships with everyone, unfortunately. Some people you will catch up with after months and it will be as though no time has passed. Others it is more difficult to talk, to text, to stay in touch.  

                At first, we found it difficult to come to terms with the changes in our friendship. Immediately following graduation, we were thrown into a period of transition. I have not been shy on this blog from sharing how difficult those three months were for me in terms of MCAT, applications, waiting, waiting, and waiting. Figuring out who you are. For her, she had dived head-first into a new job and working towards a position she wanted more. She was dedicated, hard-working, and driven in every sense of the word. Where I was more lost, she knew where she was. I was feeling at my worst; She was too busy to analyze our situation post-graduation too much.

                It was hard to realize we weren’t in the same place physically or mentally anymore. Even worse was that while I was going crazy with the amount of “free time” after taking my MCAT, which only turned out to be time for me to panic about everything, she was incredibly busy. It was hard to text, call, or talk nearly as frequently as we used to in college where we saw each other every single day. That’s just the reality of moving. It was a new adjustment though, and as she summarized that time, it was a time of transition for all of us. It took us time to learn to forgive one another for not speaking as much, for not knowing so much about each other’s lives, and learned to grow happy with whatever time we get to have.

                And that, my readers, is the most important thing about any strong friendship.

                That’s how you know you’ve got someone who will be there no matter what.

                She came to visit in the fall, then once again in the beginning of the summer, and I went to see her in a few weeks later. And in about two weeks, she will be back to visit to be at my white coat ceremony.

                I feel more grateful the more time we spend apart and reunite because each time we have seen each other again, I’ve found our friendship to be stronger than before. So maybe I love her city for its liveliness, for its colors, but I also know I love it because I got to see my second family, my Ethiopian sister and her family, and remember once again how lucky I am to have something like this. One year post-college, we’re even better than before.

                And before I start chapter in my life in a few weeks, I am spending more time with the people who mean the most to me. She is one person out of many others who I know will be there at the finish line, waiting for me, with a cup of our usual Americano, like nothing has changed.