Unfortunately, my early birthday was my last night here, so I managed to celebrate it to the fullest, but I had to leave the next day. I didn't have any shifts left, although Amanda offered to let me work the morning. I had another job—saying goodbye to everything dear to my heart. You see, this year I was leaving in a completely different way. If a year ago I had to leave an empty dormitory (only 3 people left) along with 8 Romanians, now I am leaving a place full of life. I am leaving a flow of events that will continue to run, but... without me? Can such a thing be? Imagine, yes.

Mihaela took the day off, and my girlfriend only had an evening shift, so we could spend time together in peace.

Evgeni, unfortunately, had already left by that time, although, of course, I would have loved for him to be there too. We had a difficult farewell with him, after which Mihaela and I had to recover for almost a week leading up to the wedding. But at least we now have memorable nazar amulets that I brought them as souvenirs and gave as a token of our friendship.

The whole day was, of course, very difficult. Everyone looks at you like a target. As if you are disappearing. I understand, of course, that I won't be here tomorrow, but why remind me of it?

Besides the last little things like paperwork, returning the uniform, and the remaining tips, I also did a little shopping, buying some extra souvenirs.

But the most important thing was the places. Just walking somewhere in silence and standing there. No need for extra words. And why? At some point, I realize that all this struggle with management and the boss for better conditions, better pay—it's worth nothing. Personally for me. I just want to be here.

One of our American waiters, who quit in the middle of the season along with his Czech girlfriend, was terribly angry at the company because his girlfriend had to go back. Otherwise, our company would have filed for the cancellation of her visa. So he wrote that he would never wish any of us to return here, although he himself had been to our branches for the second time.

I understand his anger, but I realize that I don't care about all that. If I return to America, I will still return to this place. I am head over heels in love with this lake, this dorm, that restaurant, and this kitchen.

People, of course, play no less a role, but after this difficult year, 90% of them are guaranteed not to return. Although I would really like to see them again. This brings the realization of a difficult farewell.

I spent $77 on a train ticket, buying the cheapest fare to Seattle. And then it turned out that Kelsey, who will host me in Seattle, came to visit us just on the days when I had to leave. And we decided that I could leave with her and her friend. Spend 77 bucks, get there faster, more reliably (well, that's a question. Last time they hit a deer), and have more fun. Why not?

And so, all day, while I was waiting for Kelsey to arrive from her friend's place, I had a lump in my throat because I felt like I couldn't say goodbye yet, but I already had to.

And I just tried to spend this day as easily as possible with Mihaela and Eliza. Having lunch at the restaurant for the last time, for example.

Checking what's going on in the kitchen. And God knows what's going on there...

And naturally, a few souvenirs for the road :)

Oh yes.. And how could I forget the traditional dorm selfie..?

So you ask... What kind of heresy am I spouting, right? Few people will actually understand the value of these words. Those who have already found a second home through this program will understand, for example. Or you will have time to understand if it becomes difficult for you to leave a place that will one day become valuable to you, as it is to me now. Then you will remember my words.

People who know me well will understand me. Perhaps even those who have been reading me since last year. Why? Because people who know me are aware that I am an introvert and a sociopath. And in this place, I open up in a completely new way, even though I have these traits to some extent. In ordinary life, it is difficult for me to communicate with a large or sometimes even a small circle of people I don't know well, but in the dorm, I manage to quickly fall in love with them. I feel how it affects me. How it acts on me for the better, and upon arriving home, I become the same as before.

Later, Kelsey arrived, and I had to go with her to all the local residents to say goodbye.

That's, actually, all. Every hug is a blow to the heart. Memories. Moments of an unforgettable summer that flew by so unnoticed. Or rather, noticeably, with a residue on the soul, but very quickly. Everyone promises not to forget, to write, to call. I want to believe it.

The hardest thing is still walking through the work kitchen. Which you are no longer needed for. You leave, and it is still boiling, taking orders and giving them back. Even if not for long. The kitchen closed 6 days after my departure, but it still hit my heart. And it is hardest to say goodbye to close people. To those with whom you share so much. You hope that it will all end soon. It also happened that one of the managers from last year arrived that day. Whom I had only seen once during this year. It's all too sentimental.

In short, that's it. Suitcase, car. Hugs. Took down the American and Uzbek flags from the dorm. Thank you, Glacier, for this year. See you soon :)