No es Adios
On January 5th I said goodbye to my friends, my family,my dog and my daily routine. I had decided that was all going to have to be put on hold for four and a half months. I knew where I was going in the literal sense, but other than a destination and address for mail I knew nothing about where I was starting a new chapter of life. So many “what ifs” ran through my mind as I boarded to plane. What if I don’t learn Spanish? what if I don’t make friends? What if they don’t have sushi? What if I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life?
It is now May 24th, and my last day here in Granada, Spain, and I can say with certainty that none of my fears became a reality (well, except for the fact that I’m sushi deprived). My walls are bare and my suitcases are all packed because at 3 A.M. I set out for the Malaga airport. Kanye West once said “bittersweet, you’re gunna be the death of me.” And that’s the only song lyric that feasibly sums up how I’m feeling. I’ve grown accustom to going out at 2 am. I’ve grown accustom to not having to tip the waiters but receiving free food with any drink. I’ve grown accustom to being called “guapa” on a daily basis by men of all ages, and more than anything I’ve grown accustom to the people I’m surrounded by. With a group of 42 students, all of whom have different living arrangements, I would be lying to say I’ve gotten a chance to know them all on a personal level. Regardless, they’ve earned a place in either my heart or my head. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t learned something new about someone, or taught them something about myself (sorry if it’s more than you cared to know). We’ve been warned about reverse culture shock after returning home, and I don’t doubt it for a second. What do you mean I can’t see the Alhambra from my backyard? Are you telling me I actually have to drive somewhere?
Words cannot express how excited I am to reunite with my home and everyone I’ve missed this semester, but part of me can’t bare to stand the thought that the next time I wake up, it won’t be due to the drunken club goers outside my window, or the horrid sound of the hardware store owners opening and closing the metal shields that protect their stores from the plywood kleptos of the city. As much as I bitch about the shticks of everyday occurrences in Granada, this will always be a second home to me. It may have taken some time to adjust, but just as this place really starts to feel like home, it’s time to go. Everyone knows I’m an emotional person, so I’ll wrap this up before the lump that’s in my throat gets to the point of tears. Thank you Granada for a wonderful semester, and all that you’ve proven to me about not only Spanish culture, but about myself. No es adios, es hasta luego.