A plethora of emotions

The time has come....


For me to bring myself back to reality, my actual life. Each day and night I've advanced forward with my life until it's finally hit me. It is May 13, 2009. I have just spent the last 4 and 1/2 months of my life in Spain, away from my family, friends, home, school and life. But what I've started out here in Spain has been entirely amazing, is it time to end my life in Granada so soon?

"Donde fueres, haz lo que vieres"

My professor taught me this quote today. It means that one eventually adjusts and becomes accustomed to a situation or circumstance. In one way or another, I think this was a message for me...There is no sense in complaining about what you have, especially when people would kill to have this great life. And surely I haven't complained. I couldn't be more thankful to be where I am in my life, but something inside me has made me feel sad to return to the United States. Why? With so many great people and aspirations to tend to, I should be ecstatic to see those who love me and revisit where my life has been for 20 years. I have clearly become accustomed to my life in Spain and most definitely will become re-accustomed to my life in the United States. So back to the origin, why do I feel melancholy when I think about my departure date: one week from today....


I recently had a conversation about this and it was brought to my attention that I seem to live in a world of dreams. Is my study abroad experience just another ingredient to the recipe of life? This past semester spent in Spain has been incredible and I'm about to abandon it. From here, I may transition into another part of my life, possibly the new "dream" in my life....another ingredient to add to the recipe. I am at the point of realization and my life is in my hands. So I must decide where I want to go, regardless of what society tells me. It's likely that the reason I feel sad to leave Spain is the fear of never returning. Am I living up the old saying "The grass is greener on the other side." Maybe 5 months has teased me with a sample of the "other side". Yet, somehow, I think my direction in life will bring me back to Spain. I've found a new level of happiness here and maybe that's a sign.


But for now, I must look ahead with enthusiasm and back with nothing less than pride in who I've become. A lot has changed in five months, who knows what the future could bring.

Bonjour Paris.

On Wednesday night, I met my friend Steff, at 12:30am to catch a taxi to the bus station. We caught our bus at 1:30am to go to Madrid. We took the bus to the airport and arrived at 6:30am and found somewhere to sleep on for a while. It was slightly startling to wake up to a group of Spaniards starring at us....We had a long time to wait since the flight wasn't until 1:50pm!! Que malo, no? We finally made it to the airport located an hour outside of the city of Paris....Thomas met me with arms wide open and we hoped on a bus to find our hostel. We arrived at the city center and grabbed a quick dinner, kebabs (of course!). We eventually arrived at the hostel which was nearly a joke. They were rennovating it and we were unable to use to elevator to climb 7 flights of stairs. We reached our room to find a lovely stench. The people at the desk spoke poor French and no English, which seemed to contradict the French and American flags outside the hostel. None the less, we dropped our bags off and went to Sacre Coeur which was a beautiful overlook of the entire city. A gorgeous cathedral was at the highest point and we could see the Eiffel Tower lit up in a distance. We enjoyed the improvised music people were playing, which complimented the clear night. We took a neat little elevator/metro down the hill and headed back to the hostel for the night.

On Thursday, the three of us woke up and ate our "French" breakfast at the hostel. We headed to the "Arc de Triumph" and "Trocadera". As we walked around the downtown area, we stopped to take pictures at the Louis Vouiton headquarters and walked Steff to the train station. Afterwards, Thomas and I went out for lunch (where I pretended to be French hah). After lunch we went to the Eiffel Tower and climbed the first two stories of stairs, 686 steps to be exact. We had to take the elevator the rest of the way to the top. It was breath-taking. After the Eiffel Tower, we walked to the "Louvre" but we couldn't go in to the museum to see the Mona Lisa so we went shopping and out for a pasta dinner. After dinner we walked around Moulin Rouge and headed back to the hostel where I taught Thomas card games :)

On Friday, Thomas and I had breakfast and went to Saint Michael's Fountain to meet up with a free tour group. We saw Pont Neuf, the Louvre (again!), Concorde, Champs - Elysees, Petit and the Grand Palace....The tour guide was from Australia and told us some interesting stuff about the city, telling quirky jokes here and there. I had to traslate for Thomas because it was dificult to understand her thick accent! haha. After the free tour, we went to Dijon by train and I had to sit next to the cat-lady. Naturally her cat wouldn't stop trying to climb all over me!!!

I enjoyed the rest of the weekend in Dijon with Thomas and his parents, and also Thomas' friends. We went to Le Chat Noir, black cat club, on Friday night, which was the "best" club in Dijon because it was exclusive (I'm still not sure how it was exclusive because I got in...?) Anyways, Saturday afternoon, Thomas showed me around the downtown area of Dijon and I got a haircut, possibly the most uneven haircut of my life?? Afterwards, we returned to Thomas' home and ate dinner with his parents. His mother was absolutely lovely, always intending to make conversation with me, although she spoke not one word of English....After dinner, Thomas and I went to a "gay" club and met up with some other friends, Joaiquina, from Granada! We had fun in the beginning of the night and as it progressed, is seemed to be a little "too gay" for us....We left and went back to Thomas' to sleep for a couple hours before I headed off on a train Sunday morning at 7:45am.

On the return to Granada, I must have been mistaken for a terrorist because every airport tried questioning me or searching me. I got searched in Paris and then in Liverpool for our layover, security questioned me as if I were going to illegally move to Liverpool! After 5 minutes of questions, I passed through until I got searched to enter the gate for our flight. I got pulled aside again for a search and this time, they removed my shoes and frisked me! I have never had someone scan the bottom of my barefeet....Once I reached Malaga, as I passed through Passport Control, the man didn't believe my passport belonged to me! I made a joke in Spanish asking me if he was calling me ugly and he laughed and let me past. Steff and I took the 10pm bus from Malaga back to Granada and finally returned by taxi at 11:30pm. Long travels, but well worth the visit to Paris and Dijon, France. =)