Farewell to a Friend
It is with deep sadness that I bid farewell forever to one of my dearest friends, my iPhone.
Last Wednesday, I was thrilled to find in the mail my Sevici card. Sevici is a bike rental service around Sevilla where you pay 25€ for a year and get to rent bikes from stations all around the city at no additional cost, as long as you return them to another station within 30 minutes. So, that evening, I headed over to La Alameda to see an apartment (more on my crazy apartment situation later) and found that I had a bit of time to kill, so I pulled out my new Sevici card, rented a bike, and began aimlessly pedaling around the neighborhood. I soon realized I was a bit lost, so I pulled out my trusty iPhone to take a look at a map (I have no data plan here, but I’ve been using Google Maps on wifi and then storing them on my phone, which has been a lifesaver for the windy, confusing streets of Sevilla), put it back in my purse, put my purse in the bike’s basket, and rode off.
When I stopped a few minutes later to look at the map again, it was gone. Apparently the wildly bumpy ride caused by cobblestone streets had caused it to bounce out onto the street. I tried to return to the street I had last had it but couldn’t figure out exactly where I had been. Frustrated and late to my apartment-viewing appointment, I gave up, parked my bike, and went to see the place (again, more on that later). Afterwards, I found the street I had last seen it and searched it, but to no avail. I stopped in all the shops and restaurants along the street asking if they had seen a phone, and, as incredibly friendly and well-wishing as all the shopkeepers were, no one had seen it. But I was proud of myself for having zero fear when it came to talking to these shopkeepers in Spanish. Two years ago, I would have been far more nervous to do so.
So, it’s gone. And, yes, it was an old model (3G) that I had gotten for free, and I wasn’t even using it as a real phone here, but, I don’t know, there’s just always something sad to me about losing a phone. I suppose it has to do with all the time one spends using them and all the memories attached to them. Texts sent, phone calls made, places the phone went. Memories like how I got the phone: I was in Seattle, on my road trip this spring break, one of the best weeks of my life, when the iPhone I had inherited from my dad got soy sauce on it (“You mean you spilled soy sauce on it?” you all ask, and I maintain that I have no idea how it happened) and died. I was staying with Doña Kim, my amazing 8th grade Spanish teacher, and, when I told her about my phone, as luck would have it, she happened to have a few extra iPhones sitting around that she wasn’t planning to use. What are the odds my phone would die when I’m staying with someone who gives me a free replacement? So the phone was also always a reminder of Doña Kim’s wonderful generosity.
I realize being so sentimental about a piece of technology totally makes me a twentysomething (read that article — it’s brilliant — and see #7 for how it applies here), but it almost feels like saying goodbye to a period of my life. But it must have been fate for my iPhone to jump away from me, and saying goodbye to the past isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Especially when there are undoubtedly so many great things ahead! Plus, I may have lost a phone, but I found a new place to live! Details on that soon. And I’ve learned my lesson about tener-ing cuidado on Sevici bikes.
Yes, I did just write an entire blog post about losing a cell phone. Hey, I can’t travel to and blog about glamorous places every week.