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.