Fin

I've been home for a little over a week now.  Every single day I have had someone to see or something to do.  But at this moment, there is nothing that needs my immediate attention.  Well, except this blog post.  As with the last one, I've been avoiding it.  I've been dreading it.  I've been wishing it was already written for me.  The truth is, I just don't know how to end this account of my amazing eight month journey.  I don't even know where to begin.  To quote Julie Andrews, "let's start at the very beginning...a very good place to start."  (You know you just sang that in your head as you were reading.)  

That moment of panic or awe, depending on how you look at it, didn't strike me until I had already been overseas for a few weeks.  In the days leading up to my departure, I was calm.  It was as if it wasn't real, it wasn't really going to happen.  And then it did happen.  Sure, I had been nervous about making friends and speaking Spanish.  But living in a foreign country never struck me as all that extraordinary or weird.  Weird is a word I use a lot.  I probably use it more than I should.  But sometimes, it's just the best word.  Now that I'm at the end, looking back on the beginning, I realize how unique my circumstances were...how unique my experience in Spain will always be.  It's weird:  I'm a homebody.  I can be shy.  I like America.  And yet, I propelled myself into this new environment where being a homebody, being shy, and liking America were not to my advantage.  As luck or fate would have it, everything fell right into place.  I had a seamless transition.  I felt at home.  However, homesickness is inevitable.  I had my fair share of bad days.  But along with those moments of wanting to go home or wanting Cinnamon Toast Crunch or macaroni and cheese, I had an abundance of perfect days...sublime, energizing, full-of-life days that washed away all of the doubt.  When you are in the middle of a day like that, when I was sitting in the Plaza with friends or walking along the river, that is when the moment of panic and awe strikes.  That moment passes as quickly and unexpectedly as it comes but it is there.  It is a sense of relief, accomplishment, happiness, and anxiety.  The anxiety comes from the little time-keeper in your soul telling you that eventually your time will end.  And it does...in the blink of an eye, it's over.  

I have said countless times how different my two semesters were.  They are almost incomparable.  Most of the distinction has to do with the two groups of people.  I think that you meet the people you need to meet when you need to meet them where you need to meet them.  Life has a funny way of arranging that.  Without exaggerating at all, I can say that I met some of my best friends in Spain.  I know that there are some people that I will fall out of touch with, and that scares me.  But sharing an experience like this brings people from all over the world together.  No matter what state you live in, no matter what your beliefs are, something drove all of us to the same place:  a small Renaissance city in Spain.  We all ended up there at the same time.  I don't really want to talk about any friendships in particular...I don't know if I could make it through that without tearing up a little bit.  To say the least, I have never felt more grateful to have become acquainted with a group of people.  They will forever be my lifeline back to Spain, even if I'm 4000 miles away. 

Now that I'm back home, I have taken care of a few firsts:  First trip to Walmart for groceries, first trip back to Iowa to visit family, first Ollie's of the season, first haircut to get rid of the damage five months of traveling causes, first slow pitch softball game.  I think it is going to be harder for me to adjust to being back home than it was to adjust to living in Spain.  Honestly.  I am shocked at the kindness and courtesy that people display.  I'm sure you're thinking to yourself, "Are you kidding me?!  People standing in the middle of the aisles at Walmart, constantly gabbing on their cell phones, bad drivers, less than great customer service..."  Well, I am sad to say that I have never seen rudeness taken to the level of Olympic sport quite in the way that it is in Spain.  The constant staring, waiting for the check for over half an hour, bumping into people without so much as a "perdona."  It can be infuriating but you get used to it.  I would like to share an anecdote with you.  Last Thursday, I was up at 4:00 am.  Thank you, jet lag.  Dad and I decided that we should just go to Walmart since there would be no crowds and we needed groceries.  We were moseying down the completely empty aisles when we reached the beauty section of the store.  I needed things like shampoo and a loofah.  We turned into an aisle and there was a young woman standing right in the middle with her cart, comparing brands of conditioner.  She saw us and immediately said, "Oh I'm so sorry.  Let me get out of the way."  And I just smiled, because in the eight months I lived in Salamanca and traveled around Europe, never once did someone say that to me.  I am not joking.  It wasn't just the woman in the aisle at Walmart.  Store employees constantly ask me how I am, if they can help me find something, if I would like a free cookie.  Why yes, I would, thank you.  

Putting all laughs aside, being home feels good.  But right now I have an uneasy feeling running through my body, causing goosebumps on my skin and churning in my stomach.  I don't quite know the words to say.  I feel like there are so many things I've left out.  I just don't know how to write them.  I have been struggling with verbal tenses in this entire blog post. Past tense or present?  Is it really over?  Or am I still connected to it?  That goes to show I've taken more Spanish grammar classes than is good for me.  Now I constantly second guess my English grammar.  And you know something?  It kind of sucks.  I want to end this blog on a happy note and with the truth.  I am in utter shock that this experience is over.  With tears welling up in my eyes and a smile on my face, I know that it was everything I hoped for.  The lifetime of experiences I lived in those eight months will always be with me.  Se acabó.            

   

So Long Salamanca

I have been avoiding writing this specific post for a few days now.  I've been saying to myself things like:  "I really should get this suitcase unpacked."  "I need to go to the store."  "I don't know how to write this."  Well, I think that I've put it off long enough.  The truth is, driving away from Salamanca on Tuesday was an awful feeling.  I hadn't let a tear fall up to that moment, but when I saw the beautiful skyline slipping away, I couldn't hold it in any longer.  Mom and Dad got to see all of the beauty of Salamanca...everything I had fallen in love with.  I think they fell in love with it too.  We spent a lot of time just sitting in the Plaza Mayor sipping coffee.  We talked about everything this experience has meant to me.  We talked about how it's over.  And we talked about coming home.  My folks were able to meet my host family and my program's director.  We sat talking for hours and hours and it could not have been better.  My one condition for our entire trip was that we end in Salamanca.  That city will always be home...in the same way that DeKalb and Ventura feel like home.  I know that I will go back there someday.  I don't quite know what else to say.  I could talk for hours about my city but writing it down is difficult.  There is so much feeling associated with that place...I loved, laughed, and lived as much as possible.  I'll write another post in a few days time...after the realization that I'm actually home and not going back sinks in, after I have a grip on how I actually feel, after just a little more time.  Thank you all for walking with me through this incredible journey. 

      

Granada 2.0

Between Valencia and Granada, we met people from all over the United States.  The most common statement was, "Hey!  I hear English!"  That's not all that common over here.  I love hearing their stories.  We met two elderly gal pals who had been traveling around Spain for a couple of weeks, a guy who had just finished a semester abroad in Granada, and a couple from Oklahoma backpacking around the country.  You don't realize how great it feels to hear English when you're surrounded by Spanish speakers all the time.  I know that for my folks it has been a little difficult not knowing what is being said as it is being said.  That's how I felt when I first arrived here in September.  But now I'm really proud of how much I understand.  Even though the travel days are long, I love being able to sit in a comfortable train and stare out the window.  It's relaxing.  The train ride through the Sierra Nevada was absolutely stunning.  The silhouettes of faces in the mountainside guided us throughout the seven hour journey.  As we prepared to exit the train, Dad and I got into a lively conversation about food, sangria, and bull fights with some talkative Spaniards.  On our part, I translated as Dad tried to describe how much he loves espresso.  On their part, they talked about their nephews who had studied in England and how little English they knew themselves.  We got settled into our hotel room and called it an early night, knowing that the next day would be a full one.  Yesterday was, in my parents' words, indescribable.  We spent the morning at the Alhambra and attended an eye-opening flamenco performance late last night.  Mom was in awe at the carved plaster arches in the red fortress of this city named for pomegranates.  It left both of my folks speechless.  It truly is breathtaking.  Dad is still talking about the flamenco show:  "How can their feet move that fast?!"  I'm so happy that they were able to see that.  It is truly a uniquely Spanish experience.  We returned to the hotel at 12:30 am this morning exhausted but happy.  Today is going to be a relatively lazy day in Granada.  The three of us are going to do a little bit of souvenir shopping and then go to an Arabic bathhouse for massages late this afternoon.  I think it will be a relaxing end to this stop on our journey.  Tomorrow is our longest travel day yet but our time in Salamanca will be care free and laid back.  I just sent Angelita an email letting her know that I'd be stopping by tomorrow night to pick up the last of my things.  My folks and I will probably stop by the house sometime on Monday for coffee and my all time favorite Spanish dessert, bollo.  I just can't believe I'll be back there tomorrow.  It will be strange to walk through those streets with my folks but I'm so happy to share my home for the past eight months with them.  Salamanca is enchanting and as much as they've loved everywhere we've been, I hope they like my city the best.  Hasta la próxima.