Some NyQuil, lots of sleep, and a couple of hours later, I finally step foot onto the shiny new soil of Spain. I will spend the next 6 months here, with my whole life stuffed inside a 55L backpack. The whole process was seamless. A little too much so. I was in and out of the airport after a night’s sleep and had a taxi waiting for me to take me to Martin de Vargas, the street of the homestay I will be staying in for the next month. The surroundings feel more familiar than expected, as I am sitting here in this bed, in my own room, already feeling into routine.
“People travel away to faraway places to watch, in fascination, the kind of people they ignore at home.” -Dagobert D. Runes
Well, actually, I didn’t really know what to expect. Maybe I expected to be blown away at how different it will be. I mean, I am on the other side of the world. Woah, right? But then again, Spaniard or American, people are just people who live lives that people live. And places are technically arbitrary, but that’s another thought for another day. There was one thing that I was hesitant about. What kind of clothes should I bring? Would my self-proclaimed “hobo chic” style be a little more “hobo” and a little less “chic” here? I shouldn’t wear socks with sandals? But I’ve realized, if I didn’t care at home, why should I care here ya know?
Plant goals across the street from me on Martin de Vargas.
Anyways, it’s only 8 PM (which is only 2 PM back home) and I think it’s time for me to call it a day. Tomorrow the student who also happens to be vegan moves in and we’ll get to meet all of the other fellow students at orientation. ¡Estoy emocionada!