Wanderlust

The first thing I noticed about Spain was the color. Looking down from the plane, the ground looked red, sandy, dry. Compared to the two days I spent in rainy, green Ireland, the change in landscape was extreme for me. Not unwelcome, but very opposite to what I'd come from. Landing off the plane, it was the heat. It feels like being inside an oven- the heat pulls the oxygen from my lungs, and it feels like I can't breathe. Like when it's so cold outside that you can feel the air inside your lungs, but here, the air is so warm that you can't feel it at all. It reminds me of Nevada, and the time I spent in Las Vegas. I thought I would have a harder time than I've had so far. Everything is in Spanish, that's true, but there is enough English intermixed that I can figure things out easily enough. Especially at Barajas, the main airport of Madrid. I imagine a lot of tourists come through there, so English was still common to see and hear. But even in Toledo, everything is translated- menus, sidewalk signs, even some of the vendors have picked up a few words. I bought a few trinkets for my family and the cashier told me, 'I like your tattoos'. (I haven't seen many people here with tattoos, and none at all with as many visible ones as I have.) Toledo: pulling into the train station, the first thing you see is the history here. The train station looks ancient. The walls around the city, hundreds of hundreds of years old. The cathedral and the Alcazar, two highest points of the city. The streets are cobblestone, winding, barely wide enough for a car to get through, with names completely different from those seen in America. Not a numbered street or an avenue to be found. More hills than San Francisco, it seems. And again, the heat. No wonder they adhere to siestas here, because walking the streets after 2 pm feels like a deathtrap. Going from the pharmacy or Plaza Zocodover (like 0.5 miles away from my dormitory) and back means coming back drenched in sweat and exhausted simply because the heat sucks all the energy from you. But I do it anyway. I came to Spain to walk, to explore, to find my way. Not to sit in my nicely air-conditioned dorm room on the internet all afternoon every afternoon (only sometimes.) We had a small tour of our college here, which has two buildings that used to be monasteries/convents/churches/etc. We were told that these buildings were used during the time of the Spanish Inquisition, during the time of Napoleon, that some of the doors here are originals that have been maintained for nearly 1,000 years. It's mind-boggling to be in the center of so much history. Toledo used to be the capital of Spain. So much of the city seems largely unchanged. Stores are built on top of and around the ruins of Roman baths- have put in glass floors so that people can come in and see the ruins just below the clothes for sale. Here, they build around history- they didn't knock it all down to build newer, shinier, better things. Here, it feels like there is much more of an appreciation for their history, more pride of their country and heritage. Sometimes in America I feel like we don't even know what our history is. We don't take care of our landmarks. We have national pride, but it isn't the same as it is here. Our pride is more of an 'our country is a great country' type of thing but we can't explain why. We just know that on 4th of July, we wear our red-white-and-blue and watch fireworks, drink beer and cook out with our families, and have a day off from work. We celebrate the day but not the reason the day is special to American history. Maybe it's the same way in other parts of Spain. But in Toledo, how can you ignore history when it's written all over the walls you walk by each day?

Whirlwind

The past week has gone by in a blur. From packing and repacking and packing again, to finding my way through O'Hare, relaxing in business class on my flight to Dublin thanks to a lucky upgrade, and finally making my way to Spain, it's been hectic to say the least. However, everything has gone well.
I spent a day and a half in Dublin, and I'm very glad for that. Ireland has been my favorite place ever since last year, and it did not disappoint. As soon as I was able to drop off my luggage, I was out the door, jet lagged but determined. I hopped a train to the seaside town of Howth and spent a few hours walking the coastline and exploring the town, stopping at various pubs to have a glass of my favorite Irish beers (namely, Orchard Thieves Cider, but I also had a Guinness in Dublin.) In Dublin, I went to all my favorite places- crepes and coffee for lunch, a local pub for dinner, and clocked 11 miles over the course of the day. My favorite thing to do is walk around and get a little lost, so it's no surprise to me that over the course of my time in Ireland, I walked about 24 miles altogether. I was sad to leave- it's never enough time.

Catching the flight from Dublin to Madrid was easier than I thought it would be. It's so important to research public transportation before going to a new city and especially new countries. I felt much more relaxed already having determined what bus to take and where I'd need to wait in the morning. I even did well on the plane, which was small and packed half full of Irish men headed to Spain to watch the World Cup game in Leon (Ireland lost). I was nervous about arriving in Spain because I thought it would be a huge culture shock to see and hear only Spanish, but it has gone splendidly so far. I've tried to challenge myself to speak as much Spanish as possible with vendors and teachers and I feel comfortable enough trying to ask for things. However, I had a bit of a shock yesterday when I was told I had to take two placement tests, which I didn't think I would need. It did not go well. I arrived late because they had to come find me and take me to the exam, and then I felt very rushed at the end when they said everyone only had 5 minutes left. I should've asked for more time on account of arriving late, but instead I panicked, started crying throughout the end of the exam, did not bother to finish two fill-in-the-blank sections (didn't think I had time, and was by that point too panicked to focus), and walked out soon after. I should've tried harder, but all the same, I was placed into Spanish Composition 4, with the most advanced being Composition 6. I think if I'd been less stressed over the situation I could have done better, but I've since accepted my fate and I am determined to learn from this class as much as I can. The teacher speaks to us only in Spanish, so that already is a challenge! I am used to NIU teachers who mostly teach the class in English with a bit of Spanish interjected into the lecture. So already I have been working hard to understand more of what I am hearing. My oral examen was this morning and I've been told I placed well in that too, so overall, things are still working out. Just differently from what I am used to.

In a separate entry, I will talk more about the customs here, the differences, and the history of Toledo. It is an amazingly beautiful city, and I'm so glad to be here- no matter how hot it is outside.

One week

One week to go, and I'll be out in the world on my own for the first time. Last year I went with friends, and felt more comfortable. I'm not so nervous traveling, but I'll miss the support on the flight- seven uncomfortable hours squished into a seat next to strangers isn't my idea of a good time.
So why Spain? Why this program? There were many options to choose from- many from various areas of Spain for 2-5 weeks, some in Central America (Costa Rica, for example.) And this one. I feel more comfortable knowing that this is an NIU sponsored program, and I'll be there with other NIU students and the Spanish professor who is teaching both my classes in the fall. But I also wanted a more immersive experience. I didn't want a quick "Spanish intensive" program lasting 2 or 3 weeks. I wanted to take my time, be able to explore, and also, my professor is very keen on getting us out and about the town regularly, so I expect many opportunities to fumble my way through conversations. Plus the classes I'm taking transfer directly back to my Spanish minor- I don't have to worry about another placement test, like I would have to take with other programs!
So far, I am extremely unprepared, and yet I feel like I've done centuries worth of research into Spain and its offerings. I haven't packed a single thing besides putting some jewelry aside. I'm not quite finished getting my personal life in order (bills bills bills, but I'm also an executive board member of two student organizations, which takes an extraordinary amount of planning and collaboration to try and get things scheduled, especially months in advance.) I'm not worried yet, although I think by next Tuesday, I'll be a wreck. It feels unreal still- to think I'll be halfway around the world.
I've been thinking a lot about homesickness, and anxiety, and the problems I had last year. Sometimes I feel very closed off- I cling very tightly to my perception of who I am. Sometimes this manifests as a fear of change. Last year I was conflicted because I had this idea in my head that the journey would turn me into something else- which was 95% of why I was going on the trip actually. It's hard to explain. The point of study abroad is to be open to new experiences and opportunities and to step outside of your comfort zone. In doing this, you assimilate into the society which you are submersed in. Your perspectives are altered. Your security blanket must be set aside. I think I had a hard time with this last year. My journey last year was very symbolic to me of what I just described- setting aside the anxiety and fear that had, up to that point, held me back from the experiences I wanted to have and the places I wanted to go. This year, while it is still somewhat the same, it is more of an expansion upon myself and those changes which already occurred. Last year I survived. This year, I want to thrive.