Hola amigos y familia!

To make good on my promise for frequent life updates, I am currently coming to you live from a bus traveling back to Madrid after a long weekend away. These past few weeks have been insanely busy with both school and traveling in full gear, and so I have only now found the time to write this update as I sit here grumbling over the eight freaking hours I have left on this bus. *Sigh,* life is hard. Anyway, before the semester starts to speed on by, I want to recap the first couple free weekends that I have had in Spain. So without further ado, here is my review on the Zaragoza Province, Toledo, and Barcelona.

On the Saturday of our first free weekend, a group of us traveled to the Zaragoza region of Spain on a pre-organized trip to see the Monasterio de Piedra. The Monastery was a long two and a half hour bus ride from Madrid, and brought us into a rural area of the country with beautiful scenery and backdrops. It was a cold and rainy day, even snowing at one point, however we still loved walking around the old Monastery and learning the history of the region. The highlight of the trip, though, was actually the surrounding gardens of the Monastery, which featured a huge number of beautiful waterfalls. We spent the day hiking around the picturesque garden area and admiring all of the immense waterfalls, crystal-clear lakes, and vast caves. It was a wonderfully organized trip, that left us feeling as though we had stumbled upon a hidden jewel in the heart of Spain.

The next day we traveled to Toledo with the same prearranged group. This too was a very fun trip that offered loads of information about Spanish history and specifically the medieval town itself in relation to this history. We visited the huge cathedral and the various religious quarters that are situated around the center of the city. Eventually, a smaller group of us wandered off to explore the city for ourselves and hiked around the winding, cobblestone streets. The day trip was incredibly relaxed, and we took our time eating lunch and sampling the locally-produced sweet, marzipan. Toledo was extremely interesting to visit due to its turbulent history involving the coexistence of Christians, Jews, and Muslims all within the city’s boundaries. Evidence of such differing religious preferences is still very evident within Toledo, thus producing a very unique culture set within the context of a visibly ancient city. Now, because I have been cursed to live a life characterized by an endless string of embarrassing moments, it was only a matter of time before this was transferred over to my life abroad. The most notable embarrassing moment from this particular trip, (note that I say the MOST notable, signifying that I could actually write an entire blog entry on embarrassing moments from these first few weeks alone), occurred when we were visiting a synagogue that had been converted into a museum. After walking in the entrance, I spotted a trash can in the corner of the room which I proceeded to dump a pocket full of tissues in. This was immediately followed by an angry security guard yelling that it was not in fact a trash can as I had originally thought, but an umbrella holder. Feeling super flustered and embarrassed, I did the only thing that seemed logical in the moment, and ran away to hide in the middle of my tour group. I spent the rest of the museum tour simultaneously admiring the old synagogue and hiding from every security guard that passed, as I was SURE that they were all after me for my tissue debacle. My American education failed me, as it did not prepare me for culturally-superior Europe where umbrella holders are apparently a thing. However don’t worry about my self-esteem, as I will continue to blame my great country for all of the failures that I have already experienced and will surely continue to experience overseas.

While the two previously described trips consisted of short, day excursions, our trip to Barcelona required a full Thursday-Monday block of time. After traveling seven hours by bus to reach the city, my roommates and I spent the weekend exploring the different neighborhoods and attractions by foot. We visited the city’s infamous tourist sites, such as the port area, the busy La Rambla street, the open air La Boquería market, and the Gaudí house, Casa Batlló. We later realized that we had walked over seven miles this first morning in Barcelona, definitely justifying the 15 Euro haul of candy I had bought earlier in the day.  After a much needed siesta and late lunch, we hung around the hostel that we were staying in for the weekend and received our first taste of hostel-living. Much to our surprise, the hostel was not a gross, cesspool of random people, which definitely defied my initial expectations. In reality, the hostel was a fun living space which both motivated us to explore the city by offering special activities and facilitated interaction between the guests. We met travelers from around the globe, including from Scotland, Germany, Australia, Panama, and Egypt to name a few, and spent the rest of our weekend with these once random strangers. One of the girls we met in our hostel clicked so well with our group that not only did we spent the rest of the weekend sightseeing with her, but she actually came to visit us in Madrid a few days later. After this trip I feel confident in saying that I now truly understand the appeal of hostels and am looking forward to booking more during my travels. The next day in Barcelona was spent visiting La Sagrada Familia and the gothic neighborhood of the city. Both areas were very interesting, though in my opinion, only necessary to visit once in a lifetime, and for a short amount of time. We eventually found ourselves in need of caffeine and warmth, and so found a local Starbucks (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) to spend some time recuperating in. I am NOT exaggerating when I say visiting a foreign Starbucks has been the largest culture shock I have yet to receive in my time abroad. Drip coffee in Spain is not popular, but never in a hundred million years did I imagine that a Starbucks would not prominently display the “normal” coffee offerings that I have grown so lovingly accustomed to in the States. Please take a second to empathize with my situation, as I was unable to order my grande, blonde roast coffee with room for cream. I understand if you immediately feel disgustingly horrified, just as I did, at the fact that a young, culturally-stupid, American could not order her usual coffee beverage. Such a shame. I will say, though, that what Starbucks lacked in coffee offerings, they made up for in pastry options. They offered a huge selection of unique selections that I had to literally walk away from in order to resist the temptation. Now before I completely digress into this Starbucks tangent, I will stop myself and return to the deep, worldly, and thought provoking experiences that I am supposed to be having and that you actually want to read about. However while I am on the topic of food, we did end the night at a great tapas restaurant, where we ordered a huge selection of small plates to fill our food-deprived bellies. On our final day in Barcelona, we visited the famous Park Güell that had been designed by Gaudí. The park was a very great end to our trip, as it offered amazing views of the city. Our overall impression of Barcelona was incredibly positive, with all three of us roommates agreeing that we needed to return later in the semester when we could fully enjoy the beaches and warm weather that is typical of the city.

To end this post, I want to prove to my parents and any other haters out there that I am actually learning a thing or two in my travels.  Here is a compilation of fun facts that I have learned about/from the places I have traveled to thus far:

• From the Monastery:
  • Drinking wine and eating pork in public areas were very important in medieval Spain, as it signaled that you were a “good” Christian. This was especially important during the Inquisitions, and is one of the reasons why butchers hung pork in the windows of their shops.
  • The alters of medieval churches are always oriented to the east. This is because Jerusalem is located to the east of these European countries, and so the alter was used to point the way toward the holy land.
• From Toledo:
  • There are only three medieval synagogues left in Spain, which two located with Toledo. Much like the alter in the Christian Cathedrals, the Holy Wall of the synagogue was ornately decorated and always oriented toward the east to signify the direction toward Jerusalem.
  • The river that surrounded most of the city acted as a natural moat that protected Toledo from foreign threat. Walls were erected around the area of the city that was left exposed.
• From Barcelona:
  • Park Güell was originally meant to serve as a backdrop and private park for the extremely wealthy families that would eventually be living nearby. However a lack of interest and money lead the park to be given to the city of Barcelona, who then opened it as a public park.
  • Gaudí is buried in the crypts of La Sagrada Familia, as it was deemed as his most cherished, life project.

Thanks to everyone who completed reading this week’s blog! I promise they will not all be this extremely long, but I am a little behind and ask you to bear with me as I attempt to catch up in my entires. Please check out my pictures which I have uploaded to Facebook as well, I promise they are probably much cooler to look at than reading this blog is. Lots of love for you all, and stay tuned for entries detailing life in Madrid, trips to Morocco, and other random abroad experiences!

I walked on, sat down, and walked off. It was so simple. I walked on, sat down, and walked off-but when I did everything was different. The air was heavy with moisture and held a earthy tin smell. Everything in sight was green and bursting with life, except for a road that had cars zooming in a manner that was wrong or backwards to me. There was no noise to be heard except for the yawning wind and the gentle murmur of people chatting. The people were all unfamiliar, with different voices, appearances, and behavior. I felt my heart putter softly but quickly. I tightened my hand around the handle of my bag, trying to contain my excitement, but a smile escaped and spilled across my face. It always amazed me that entering, what seemed like another world, could be so simple. I walked on an airplane in Cleveland, Ohio, sat down for six hours, and walked off in Shannon, Ireland. This was it. My semester abroad, my adventure, was starting.
I have been in Limerick, Ireland for nine days. In these past days I have met extraordinary people from all over the world, have seen beauty of all types, have been introduced to a new culture, and have fallen in love with Ireland. I walked out of the plane having no preconceived expectations or really any knowledge of what this journey would entail. The idea of living and studying in Ireland for fourth months was something too large to really wrap my head around and dissect, so I left it at “I’m going to Ireland.” I was clueless of what people I would be with, what conditions I would be living in, what the city would be like, what my education would be, what I would be doing, what I should expect-I just knew what time my plane was leaving.
Starting out clueless worked out for me because everything has been a wonderful surprise. I was like a child in an amusement park the first time walking through the city of Limerick. I fawned over the quaint shops, admired humble charm of the architect, and jumped at the endless rows of restaurants, cafes, and pubs. There was emerald ivy growing up old stone buildings, twinkling lights struggle across small side streets, and Irish flags waving softly in the wind-my heart was bursting with joy. I didn’t think it could get better, but then we turned the corner. There stood the King John’s Castle, standing tall and proud on the lip of the water’s edge. The grainy stone of the castle contrasted with the rushing blue river beside it and the rolling green hills behind it. I was speechless. This was going to be my home for four months-how did I get so lucky?
Although, I could be living in a dusty city with nothing to do and still be enjoying it, simply because the people I am with are amazing. The first couple of days here it was only the international students on campus. There is about forty of us and we are from all around the world. France, Germany, Netherlands, Australia, Spain, Belgium, Austria…the list continues. Everyone has such different stories, social norms, accents, and ideas, and we are all interesting in finding each others out. I have never had such constant enlightening and beautiful conversations. I have been in awe. Sitting and talking has become favorite thing to do simply because there is so much to discuss. Other than having a diverse background, everyone in the group has great personalities. We all seem, somehow, on the same page with what’s important and how to handle things. Becoming friends with everyone has been the peak of this experience thus far.
It has only been nine days, but it feels like I have been here so much longer due to the immense about of stuff I have done. I have been to a numerous amount cafes, restaurants, and pubs. I have moved into my flat and have actually gotten settled in. I have explored the city. I have gone into the castle. I have seen live music and Irish dancing. I have watched a rugby and hurling game. I have gone to classes. I have learned a decent amount of French, Gaelic, and Dutch. I have planned five trips to different countries. I have gone to the Milk Market. I have tried my first Guinness. I have danced with strangers. I have made lasting friendships. I have been happier than I could imagine. And the adventure has merely just begun.

I have stared at beauty in the face. She has been my loyal companion and guardian. I see her in every corner, through every blink, I see her—beauty even lingers within my dreams. I must confess, it feels like I am dreaming, though no dream has been as pleasant and good to me as the one I have been dreaming on for the past 2 weeks.

I feel so afloat. My abode is now Madrid, and it’s funny to say but I feel so at ease. I feel so free and so much like myself. If ever there was a time to love and discover yourself, it is through travel and exploration. Throughout my stay in Madrid I have come to acknowledge yet of another beautiful thing I have before me—myself.

I have allowed myself to be completely and utterly present in the moment while in Madrid.

When I was a child, about 4, I used to ask my mom, “what will we have for dinner tomorrow”, and she would hastily reply, “we shall see, for tomorrow has not come yet”. I would never understand why she just wouldn’t tell me, she was to make dinner, not God, how would He know what tomorrow would bring. Though now, as I see interchangeably see beauty and God within all things more than ever, I now see that all good things are worth the wait. All good things come at do time. Tomorrow has not yet come today, and so I live my days here day by day. I enjoy every second of this air. I often look at the sky and for a few second I allow myself to get lost in the sea of blue. I warmly whisper to myself of how my parents are looking at the same sky, and this brings joy and warmth to my heart.

I know that my time here is not to be wasted, and so I find no time to sit around and not enjoy the grandiose opportunity that has been given to me.

I kid. I do sit around and enjoy the mere sight of people hurrying to their various (clueless) destinations. I often enjoy sitting by myself, merely enjoying my own company. I feel as though I have taken myself for granted for too long. I have let the skin I walk around this Earth with become so ordinary to my sight. I have not noticed, or have not noticed for a long time now, that my cheeks can extend quite beyond my face (may the occasion arise). I have found that I walk with my left foot following my right—always. I have found that I enjoy taking the long route home and admiring how much green I see before me. I frankly enjoy myself—I quite pleasantly confess.

Self-discovery is such an odd thing to talk about, at least for me. I have never been one to even take a second look at myself, but today I became vulnerable to myself. I now truly look and I see my mother, I see her eyes, for they have taught me what true love is. I see my father, I see the expression he makes the instant he spots me within a crowd, he has shown me what complete joy looks like and where to look out for it. I have discovered so much of myself these past few weeks. Never before had I felt so vulnerable, and yet so relieved in my life. I wake every day thankful and willing to take and seek chances.

After all, what is going 4,000 miles away from home without a little mischief.

Madrid, you are my wonderful home now. You have been quite the host. I have seen only but a fraction of what you have to offer and still I think that when I do see you all I shall crave more and quite possible never want to leave you.

I would love nothing more than to eat hot chocolate with churros for the rest of my life, though tomorrow has not come yet, and I have no clue as to where I shall be. And that brings great peace to me. I know that for whatever tomorrow brings shall be whatever shall be.

I am so happy to report that I have successfully both survived and thrived during these first few weeks in Spain. While the trip from Chicago to Europe began with many headaches due to seemingly endless flight cancellations, delays, and reroutings, the time has already begun to fly by here.

These first two weeks have been spent exploring my new surroundings while simultaneously attempting to fit in with the locals and orient myself to the European/Spanish lifestyle. “Becca,” you might ask, “who cares if literally everyone within a 10 mile radius can tell you’re not from Spain???” Well I would answer that with the sad fact that I have probably already used up the acceptable amount of “lo siento, soy americana”s x100. That being said, I am desperately attempting to drop all the signs of my Americanness in order to gain the full access to the Spanish culture. One of the biggest adjustments that I have run into thus far has been switching over to the Spanish eating schedule. The day begins with a small breakfast, followed by a normal sized lunch around 2-3pm, and finishes with a dinner around 10pm. While I had been warned about this schedule, putting it into practice has resulted in an embarassingly huge amount of necessary churro and bocadillo snack breaks throughout the day to save my starving stomach. These snack breaks were made even more enticing after I learned that a cafe con leche and pastry combo is sold at most cafes for less than 2 euro. Dinner is an especially important part of my daily routine in Spain, as my roommates and I sit down with our host family for an authentic, homemade Spanish meal. Our host family, to our surprise, does not speak English. While my broken Spanish skills have definitely helped bridge the language barrier, it can be quite difficult and intimidating to speak at lengths with them. Regardless, my host family is extremely caring and thoughtful, always making sure that my roommates and I have what we need and giving us advice about city life in Madrid.

I suppose this is the part that I should also mention that I am usually able to find time in my day to attend class (that’s for you, Mom & Dad)! My schedule for this semester consists of four academic classes and a piano class, the earliest beginning at 2:30 pm. I truly am roughing it this semester. I am very happy with my professors thus far, all of whom are not only vey intelligent within their given fields, but also truly understanding of our unique situation as students in Madrid.

Although I am loving Spain, I do admit to feeling homesick and the occasional FOMO. One thing that has definitely helped is that I have met a crazy number of students from my home university in Chicago, all of whom I had either not crossed paths with or whom I had never had a chance to talk with before this experience. It truly was the best feeling on the first day of classes whenever another student introduced themselves as “blah blah from Loyola Chicago.” This was usually followed by me yelling across the room, “omg me too!” Already these semi-awkward introductions have lead to travel groups being formed and plans solidified. This month has and will keep me extremely busy in terms of travel, as we have already visited the Monasterio de Piedra and Toledo on the first weekend and Barcelona on the second weekend. I have future travel plans to Morocco, Ireland, and Germany in the coming weeks, and to France and Italy over the coming months. I am slowly beginning to realize that I won’t have the time to see half of what I would like to, as I accidentally filled in every single weekend while making a tentative travel itinerary for this semester. I have attempted to block off at least one weekend a month to remain in Spain, as I am nervous that my travel plans might restrict me from truly experiencing life as a wannabe Spaniard. Again, should probably also block off the weekends before midterms and finals, because in case you are like me and keep forgetting, school is a thing here.

If you made it this far into the blog post, you must truly love me because this was really freaking long. I want to thank everyone for taking the time to read my thoughts, and am hoping to post at least once a week. I am so incredibly grateful for the love and support I always receive from my friends and family, even during some of my more crazier endeavors (ya know, like flying off to live in Europe for 5 months). Lots of love for you all, and stay posted as I attempt live the vida loca!

When I first heard about “culture shock”, I truly believed it wouldn’t happen to me. I was extremely excited to leave the U.S. and immerse myself into a new country and culture. Today is my 12th day in Rome, and I have been proven wrong. Here is a list of 5 things I am struggling to adjust to the most:

Italians are never concerned about time. There is no such thing as a bus ETA. The buses are never on time and you could wait as much as 45 min at a bus stop. Coming from Chicago, where I have lived my entire life and where buses/trains are always on time, this was difficult to adjust to. However, this experience will encourage my type A personality to learn how to “go with the flow.”

Coffee culture is drastically different. I love my Starbucks just as much as the next person, but I also love my daily normal brewed black coffee. Italians call that an “Americano.” In Italy, they really only have 3 major coffee drinks: a cappuccino, an espresso, and a macchiato (and no not the caramel sugary thing from Starbucks). Coffee is also never taken “to go.” Setting aside the time to sit and have my morning coffee is so different from my normal routine and may encourage me to enjoy the little things more!

Carbs, Carne, and Cornettos. Don’t get me wrong, Italians are serious about their food and it’s delicious. I truly believed I could never tire of pasta and that I would be stoked to eat it for the next 4 months. However, I have tired of pasta. During a meal, the first dish is always pasta, second is meat (usually pork), and last is dolce (dessert). Italians also don’t eat a full breakfast like Americans. Breakfast is usually some sort of filled cornetto (croissant) and cappuccino (my favorite part of the day). Let’s not forget delicious bread is served at every meal. Better hit the gym, am I right?

The language. This is my first time being in another country that is not Mexico or the U.S. I am Latina, and I am a fluent Spanish speaker. I have never been in a situation where I didn’t know how to communicate with others, how to read a menu, or understand what others are saying. This has truly been eye-opening for me and is pushing me to learn Italian and use it as much as possible throughout my time here.

The time difference. Rome is 7 hours ahead of Chicago time. Although this isn’t really culture related, the time difference has been something I have found difficult to adjust to. Trying to communicate with friends and family back home is difficult because they’re just getting out of class/work by the time it’s 11pm in Rome. Also, when I’m waking up around 8am it’s only 1am in Chicago and everyone is (typically) asleep. However, my friends and family have made a serious effort to plan phone calls/face times/texts to keep in touch, and I am so blessed to have these amazing people in my life.

The transition from living in Chicago my entire life to living in Italy was not initially easy for me and has definitely taken me out of my comfort zone. However, this experience has already changed me for the better and I am excited to see where these next 4 months will take me. Until next time, ciao!