Coming to a Close

Well I've been dreading writing this entry. I officially have one week until the end of my program.



This has been one of the most growing experiences I've had. I've learned so much about not only the Spanish language or the culture, but also about myself and, though it sounds corny, human nature. I've learned more about what kind of person I am: I love being in social situations, I love meeting new people, but that I also really enjoy time by myself.



I've gotten to the point where I'm a little tired of traveling and living in another country, but I also don't want to leave the people here. Everyone lives on the east coast so chances are, I won't see many of these people again. And knowing that, having been hanging out with these people for the entirety of four months, really really saddens me. Yes, I'm planning on flying to Maryland at some point in the hopefully not-so-distant future, but how would I be able to see everybody? Some live in New York, some in Philadelphia, some in Florida....this is just really unfortunate.



But I don't want to talk about the end of this amazing experience negatively. I've seen such amazing things.

I remember visiting Park Guell with my floormates, all of us not really knowing each other, but wanting to.

I remember the mandatory trip to Tarragona with IES: we were all freezing our asses off because they didn't tell us it would be incredibly windy and chilly. I remember the 'faux-hike' that we went on which consisted of a slight incline up a paved road. I remember eating multiple course meals with paella, fish, salads, chicken, and vino. I remember spending an hour trying to take pictures of us all jumping on this cliff at the beach.
I remember eating at a restaurant in the Swiss Alps in this village called Murren. We had sat outside and had an utterly fantastic view of the Swiss Alps. I remember eating a large pizza as we watched skydivers fall from high up above us.

I remember Carnival at Sitges: the ridiculous costumes and outfits worn by the gay community as they put on the best drag-parade known in western Europe. I remember meeting someone special there.
I remember the green hills of the Basque country and the coast of San Sebastian. I felt like I was in one of Ernest Hemingway's novels.

I remember the ridiculous nightlife of Barcelona--the people were all dressed up fancily and drinking mixed drinks like socialites instead of study abroad students.

I remember Costa Brava and exploring the beach town of Cadaques with a good friend. The white-washed walls, the little flower pots on the windowsills. The blue and red doorframes.
I remember thinking how much of a weirdo Salvador Dali was while visiting his museum in Figueres.

I remember my parent's visit and sitting mortified in the backseat of our rented car as they asked an armed police officer, one of many holding machine guns trying to create a barricade, for directions.
I remember Carcassonne and the ridiculously beautiful architecture of the old walled city.
I remember Rome, Corfu and Athens. I remember meeting many more people from all over the world. I remember the thrill of riding around ATVs in Corfu, the heat and the delicious food of Athens and the beautiful streets of Rome.

I remember so much more that I just can't put into words. I now understand why it is that everyone who has come back from their study abroad experience don't know what to say when people ask how it was. Its impossible to try to help someone understand what you went through if they haven't had similar experiences. Its ineffable.