On Dec. 18 at 7 p.m., after three months of newness– new country, new house, new roommates, new school, new cultural references, new way of ordering my Starbucks drink, new grocery store, new church, new post office and stamps– I happily stepped from the airplane walkway, connecting flight CO something to Gate something into the San Antonio International Airport. For once, everything did not feel new and instead, in the best senses of the words, felt old and familiar: the terminal, the shops, the restaurants, the Quiznos and Starbucks, the cowboy hats adorning the Texas souvenir store, and of…