This first post is rather long but hang in there they won't all be this way!
Being three weeks into my trip I’ll get everyone up to date on the most important and memorable things. First of all, my trip did not get off to the smoothest of starts. What’s funny is the morning I left my mom said to me that I will come across obstacles and challenges all throughout my journey and to just take deep breaths and take everything in stride. I smiled and agreed that being gone for such a significant amount of time I was bound to run into problems. Little did I know that my first encounter would be later that morning, the first leg of my journey. On September 10th the morning of my departure I said a very hard good-bye to both my mom and brother and then left for the airpot with my dad. Dad helped me check all my luggage (which was a lot as some of you know!) and waited in the security line with me until the very last possible moment. I said my final good-bye to him passed through security and boarded my plane with butterflies in my stomach and tears in my eyes but a smile on my face.
I was so exhausted from partying my final few days and staying up late with friends that I immediately fell asleep before take-off. I woke up an hour later realizing that the plane had not taken off and was still on the runway. Not long after we were told that the plane’s computer or something wasn’t connecting to the radio tower and we had to de-board the plane. I had to go all the way back out to check-in and all my flights were rescheduled for the next day at the same time. Thinking I was leaving for a year I had mentally prepared myself for not seeing my family, friends, house, cell phone etc. for at least 9 months. But instead a mere 4 hours later I was calling home asking for a ride and walking through my front door. All this threw me for a loop. At first, sheer panic was going through my head. Not only was I going to be a day and a half late for orientation but I would miss the airport to hotel transportation that was provided for me; as long as I arrived within a time frame. I was terrified at the prospect of navigating myself to the hotel moments after arriving in a foreign country.
Anyways, the extra day ended up being very pleasant and helpful and the next morning the goodbyes were easier and the butterflies were tamer. The morning before had been like a practice-run. I boarded my plane and waited to fall asleep until after the plane was in the air. I slept all the way to Philadelphia and then had a very uncomfortable flight from philly to Barcelona. Once in Barcelona I was told that my flight to my final destination, Sevilla (where my luggage was), didn’t exist. I was thinking “oh great, here we go again...” Right off the plane and my spanish skills were immediately being tested. I showed them all my ticket stubs and explained I had a flight. They made a phone call and once again everything was settled and I was boarding my last flight. In Sevilla I picked up my luggage and catching a taxi and telling him where I needed to go ended up being easiest part of the whole long journey. (Picture of me in Sevilla).
I arrived at the hotel around lunch time and slipped right into orientation and meeting dozens of other boys and girls (fellow teachers) that all had their own traveling mishaps and setbacks. The next few days were go go go. I immediately met my host family that I stayed with for 2 weeks and I also started my spanish “refresher” courses that I took during those two weeks. (Picture is of the 3rd largest Cathedral in Europe. I walked past it everyday going to and from class)
A little bit about my host family. I knew nothing about them going into this experience but was pleasantly surprised with the outcome. I stayed with a family of 12+ (I’m still unclear on who was family, friends, cousins etc.). Between 2 houses, next door to each other, all these family members lived together. The mother, father, and youngest of the 10 kids lived in one house and I lived in the other house with the oldest 6 kids. 5 brothers and 1 sister all between the ages of 25 and 30. It is very common for Spanish children to live at home until they are married... On a day-to-day basis instead of having a “mother” cook for me, I felt like I was living in a frat house with my closest guys friends... It wasn’t so bad though. They were extremely friendly, attractive!, and patient with my Spanish. I had 3 meals a day, my own room and bathroom, clean laundry, and I always had an invitation to party with them. The Spanish schedule is ridiculous. Breakfast is not until around 10 am, lunch is at 3pm, siesta is everyday from 3-6pm, and dinner isn’t served until 10pm or later. Bars don’t open and parties don’t start until around 12:30 am and they don’t end until 7 or 8 the next morning. Some mornings I would run into my drunk "brother" just getting home as I was getting breakfast or leaving for classes. I made it out a few times with them but otherwise I was trying to overcome jet-lag and make it to my spanish and orientation classes everyday. Sevilla was very fun though and had beautiful buildings. They gave me an invitation to stay with them again anytime I wanted to go back into the city. (Picture is of my host brothers).
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