When I decided to study abroad, people would ask me, "Caroline, what do you want from your study abroad experience?" My answer, always, was a family. I wanted to have a family in Spain that would make it hard to leave, that I would talk to once I got home, and that I could bring my future family to meet in 10-15 years (hopefully earlier).
Throughout my whole life, family has always been the most important thing to me. Growing up, I used to go into my parents' room after dinner every night and tell them the dramas of pre-teen/teen life. They knew exactly what was going on in my life then, and I can proudly say they still know what's going on to this day. I knew from the beginning that leaving my family and home for four months would be very difficult for me. Four months may sound like nothing, but to someone who is a home body and whose mom is one of their best friends, this time away has felt like forever and nothing all at once. I feel like February was yesterday and like I've been here for years, all at once. Nevertheless, I knew that I needed to have the family here I envisioned when people asked me what I expected from Spain.
God gave me that in ten-fold. I could never in my wildest dreams expect what I walked away from study abroad with. Mamá Carmen is one of the most loving and caring people I have ever met. Although she never married or had kids, she was an amazing mom in every sense of the word. When I was in my bad place in the beginning, she understood why I needed time to sit at home and why I worried. She understood that I was a little different from the other kids, so she never pressed me when I didn't go out when my peers did. Carmen was everything I needed in a time when I didn't feel like I could go on. Returning every day to the place that has become home and to my host mom was my saving grace this semester. Knowing that I would get a kiss on the cheek and a hug every time I got home and every time I left let me know that love doesn't know language, and family doesn't have to mean blood.
Through Carmen, I also found family in my roommate who is forever understanding of my (almost) constant crying and will listen to me talk for ages because if you know me, you know I never shut up. God knew exactly what he was doing when he made us roommates, and I am forever grateful to Him and to her (you know who you are). I also have an aunt now through my host mom's sister, Paqui, which also gives me a cousin in her study abroad daughter. Paqui's children and grandchildren need to be added to the list of family too. Thanks to them, I have made roots in a place that seemed so foreign and cold to me for too long. Am I sad to leave them and the ties I've made behind? Of course. Today was a very hard day for me, and I know that it will probably hit me again in a week when I feel like I've finally settled in.
This next week will be very transitional for me. I've spent the past 4 months living a completely different lifestyle, and I have to go through reverse culture shock now. I am thankful though that I have a summer to rest at home and settle back into the pace of life. I've learned more about myself and life than I ever thought possible this past semester. The change that I feel has happened to me is one of my most exciting take-aways from study abroad. I hope my family and friends notice the changes too. Spain taught me that life doesn't always have to be work. You can have fun too and be successful. I've learned to slow down and soak up every moment because you never know when you will say goodbye to people or places. I also pray more now than I have in many years. God works in mysterious ways, and this semester I was shown just how good He can be. I am undeserving of all the good things that happened to me this semester, but He still gives and gives if you give him a little time each day. It's truly amazing.
I think this is it from me. Thank you to everyone who has read my blog. I appreciate every ounce of love and support I have been given. I hope you have laughed, cried, and smiled at my posts just like I did when I wrote them. My journey to Spain has been incredible, and four months ago, I would never have imagined myself at the place I'm at now. My life is blessed, and that's all I can say.
The end.
xoxo,
Caroline
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
Wednesday, May 3, 2017
La Vida es Mejor Durante La Féria
One week. One week until I leave Sevilla.
I am spending my last week in Spain living up life at la Féria, so here's what I have been up to since Los Torros and the exit orientation last week!
On Friday night, we spent the evening and night at my host aunt's house working on a final project and eating dinner. I feel like that, when I look back on Spain, I will want to remember days like that spent with my host family. On Saturday, I got to walk around Seville and do a lot of shopping. It's so surreal walking around the city that I have come to know these past four months, and it's also surreal to imagine that I won't be a part of this city anymore in one week. My emotions are at such a stand still. It's like I'm holding my breath and waiting for all of it to hit me at once that I'm leaving. It's a crazy feeling.
On Saturday night, my roommate, host cousin, and I went to see the lighting up of the entrance at la Féria. We didn't stay super long, but we walked around to find the public casetas (tents) and our host family caseta which is actually for military family members. We didn't dress up that night because it's not as common, but we definitely decided then that we were looking forward to going dressed up this week.
On Sunday, my host cousin and I went to Los Rejones which is a bull fight from horseback. These horses are worth, at the least, $1,000,000, but they can be more. Throughout the fight, they are constantly changing horses, and the horses don't have the protective mat like the horses en Los Torros do. I feel like the bull fighting for Los Torros was better in the technique and showman ship department, but the horses at Los Rejones were out of this world. The amount of training these horses have to go through must have been extremely intensive. Their elegance was like nothing I have never seen before. Any person, even without knowledge of horses, could see how obviously amazing their performance was. Everyone was on the edge of their seats the whole time because the people on the horses kept less than a foot in between the horse and the bull. The theatrics were truly impressive.
After that, we went to the Féria all dressed up (which we wore during Los Rejones too), and we danced Sevillanas in the public tents with some locals! It was really fun.
On Monday, my host cousin, host aunt, host mom, and I spent the day together at my apartment eating lunch then dinner together. My host aunt's daughter and children came over to have fajitas with us. The granddaughter is only eight years old, and she speaks Spanish and English fluently. She is so intelligent, and my host cousin and I were completely in awe. We would be speaking Spanish then switch to English then switch back to Spanish. It was awesome. The grandson is four and a half years old, and he was just a bundle of energy. So cute.
Yesterday was another Féria day! My host cousin and I got all dressed up, and we met with our Sevillanas teacher to go dance at la Féria. She taught at another school too in Seville, and those students met up with us as well. They were from all over the US, and it was cool to hear about where each person comes from and what they like most about Spain. We danced outside las casetas of families, and people were amazed at this group of Americans who knew THE dance of Seville. They clapped for us. cheered, took videos, and pictures. It was crazy fun. We all got super hungry from that, so we had our last dinner with the teacher before parting ways. We returned to la Féria after saying goodbye, and we got into a private caseta which is a really cool thing because these are owned by the people of Sevilla. There was a dj and a lot of dancing. We also had the chance to dance Sevillanas a few more times before leaving at the ripe hour of 3:30 am. All in all, it was one of my most favorite days in Spain!
Today was a chill day full of Netflix, food, and laughs with my host cousin. I will head back to la Féria tomorrow with my whole host family and probably every day until it ends on Saturday night. My next post will be the night before I leave Spain and the day I leave Sevilla, so be on the look out for it.
xoxo,
Caroline
I am spending my last week in Spain living up life at la Féria, so here's what I have been up to since Los Torros and the exit orientation last week!
On Friday night, we spent the evening and night at my host aunt's house working on a final project and eating dinner. I feel like that, when I look back on Spain, I will want to remember days like that spent with my host family. On Saturday, I got to walk around Seville and do a lot of shopping. It's so surreal walking around the city that I have come to know these past four months, and it's also surreal to imagine that I won't be a part of this city anymore in one week. My emotions are at such a stand still. It's like I'm holding my breath and waiting for all of it to hit me at once that I'm leaving. It's a crazy feeling.
On Saturday night, my roommate, host cousin, and I went to see the lighting up of the entrance at la Féria. We didn't stay super long, but we walked around to find the public casetas (tents) and our host family caseta which is actually for military family members. We didn't dress up that night because it's not as common, but we definitely decided then that we were looking forward to going dressed up this week.
On Sunday, my host cousin and I went to Los Rejones which is a bull fight from horseback. These horses are worth, at the least, $1,000,000, but they can be more. Throughout the fight, they are constantly changing horses, and the horses don't have the protective mat like the horses en Los Torros do. I feel like the bull fighting for Los Torros was better in the technique and showman ship department, but the horses at Los Rejones were out of this world. The amount of training these horses have to go through must have been extremely intensive. Their elegance was like nothing I have never seen before. Any person, even without knowledge of horses, could see how obviously amazing their performance was. Everyone was on the edge of their seats the whole time because the people on the horses kept less than a foot in between the horse and the bull. The theatrics were truly impressive.
After that, we went to the Féria all dressed up (which we wore during Los Rejones too), and we danced Sevillanas in the public tents with some locals! It was really fun.
On Monday, my host cousin, host aunt, host mom, and I spent the day together at my apartment eating lunch then dinner together. My host aunt's daughter and children came over to have fajitas with us. The granddaughter is only eight years old, and she speaks Spanish and English fluently. She is so intelligent, and my host cousin and I were completely in awe. We would be speaking Spanish then switch to English then switch back to Spanish. It was awesome. The grandson is four and a half years old, and he was just a bundle of energy. So cute.
Yesterday was another Féria day! My host cousin and I got all dressed up, and we met with our Sevillanas teacher to go dance at la Féria. She taught at another school too in Seville, and those students met up with us as well. They were from all over the US, and it was cool to hear about where each person comes from and what they like most about Spain. We danced outside las casetas of families, and people were amazed at this group of Americans who knew THE dance of Seville. They clapped for us. cheered, took videos, and pictures. It was crazy fun. We all got super hungry from that, so we had our last dinner with the teacher before parting ways. We returned to la Féria after saying goodbye, and we got into a private caseta which is a really cool thing because these are owned by the people of Sevilla. There was a dj and a lot of dancing. We also had the chance to dance Sevillanas a few more times before leaving at the ripe hour of 3:30 am. All in all, it was one of my most favorite days in Spain!
Today was a chill day full of Netflix, food, and laughs with my host cousin. I will head back to la Féria tomorrow with my whole host family and probably every day until it ends on Saturday night. My next post will be the night before I leave Spain and the day I leave Sevilla, so be on the look out for it.
xoxo,
Caroline
Thursday, April 27, 2017
The Beginning of the End
My last post was a week and a half ago, but I've lied low this past week and stayed in Seville. Like I said in my last post, I'm not traveling anymore and enjoying my last weeks of life in Spain by staying in Seville. Last weekend, we had a nice girl's night on Friday which was much needed.
On Saturday, my host mom, her sister, and their friend took my roommate, their host daughters, and I to their "club" on Saturday. It's basically a country club for people whose family was in the army. My host mom's dad and grandfather were both in it, and I know for sure that they fought in the Civil War. We spent the day walking around the country club and eating lunch. It was a nice, relaxing day that I definitely needed after all of the traveling from the week before.
This week is my last full week of classes. Next week is the fair of Seville, so we are off class all of next week. I had my final test in culture yesterday, and I have my final in literature tomorrow. From today, there are only 4 days left of class. The end looms in the near future for us students of Texas Tech Seville.
Yesterday was also our trip to Los Torros. This is where the bull fighting happens. There is a judge who sits under a canopied area, and he controls the flow of the bull fight. It starts with the bull entering and the bull fight with the Torrero until the horses enter. The men on the horses have a stick with a sharpened, metal end on it, and they put this into the bulls back to stop it from running into the horses. This happens twice. After that, there are three men with two barbed sticks each. These men run at the bull, and in the last second, turn sideways and put it in the bull's back. From here, the Torrero (bull-fighter) gets the red cape which signifies the end of the bull fight. He uses this cape with the bull until he is lined up correctly for the kill. When he is ready, he retrieves the killing sword from a person along the ring and kills the bull by putting it in between its shoulder blades. Six bulls for sure go into the ring to die, but there can be up to eight if other bulls are pardoned for being good bulls and get to live as a reward.
At first, I was very skeptical of the event. No part of me wanted to go watch it. After Spring Break when we visited the farm where the bulls are raised, my mind was changed. I decided to go to at least see the culture. Nothing could have prepared me for it, and it was very different from my expectations. In all honesty, it was bloodier than I expected. I cried when the first bull died and didn't know if I would make it to the end. As the event progressed though, I understood it a lot more. I also handled it by reminding myself that some cows in America sit in a barn and never move out of the number of square inches they take up, and they never see light or grass or sun. These bulls are treated like kings their whole lives then come to the ring where hundreds of people are cheering them on and want them to do good/triumph. It's truly a unique experience to be a part of a crowd of people giving a bull a standing ovation for performing so well. It was in that moment that I came to respect the event for what it is. Like I said in my post from the farm, the meat gets donated to a market, and the money raised from that goes to a charity/charities. I guess I liked it enough to go back again on Sunday to see los Rejones, bull fighting on horseback.
Today marks two weeks until I step on America soil again. Today is the beginning of the end.
We had our "exit orientation" today where they warned us about culture shock going back into the United States. Like when I first arrived to Spain, I'll have my first roller coaster week of excitement until it sets in that I'm readjusting to a different culture, different schedule, and different foods all over again. As much as I love my family and friends at home too, I know I'll miss my host mom because I've come to love her as well. The thought of saying goodbye makes my eyes prick with tears and makes my throat feel like it's full of cotton. I'm trying not to think about saying good bye, but it's hard when you're finalizing your travel plans to home and buying souvenirs for people. I would appreciate some prayers of strength for these next four weeks. Also, thank you to anyone still reading my blog. I appreciate the support. <3
xoxo,
Caroline
On Saturday, my host mom, her sister, and their friend took my roommate, their host daughters, and I to their "club" on Saturday. It's basically a country club for people whose family was in the army. My host mom's dad and grandfather were both in it, and I know for sure that they fought in the Civil War. We spent the day walking around the country club and eating lunch. It was a nice, relaxing day that I definitely needed after all of the traveling from the week before.
This week is my last full week of classes. Next week is the fair of Seville, so we are off class all of next week. I had my final test in culture yesterday, and I have my final in literature tomorrow. From today, there are only 4 days left of class. The end looms in the near future for us students of Texas Tech Seville.
Yesterday was also our trip to Los Torros. This is where the bull fighting happens. There is a judge who sits under a canopied area, and he controls the flow of the bull fight. It starts with the bull entering and the bull fight with the Torrero until the horses enter. The men on the horses have a stick with a sharpened, metal end on it, and they put this into the bulls back to stop it from running into the horses. This happens twice. After that, there are three men with two barbed sticks each. These men run at the bull, and in the last second, turn sideways and put it in the bull's back. From here, the Torrero (bull-fighter) gets the red cape which signifies the end of the bull fight. He uses this cape with the bull until he is lined up correctly for the kill. When he is ready, he retrieves the killing sword from a person along the ring and kills the bull by putting it in between its shoulder blades. Six bulls for sure go into the ring to die, but there can be up to eight if other bulls are pardoned for being good bulls and get to live as a reward.
At first, I was very skeptical of the event. No part of me wanted to go watch it. After Spring Break when we visited the farm where the bulls are raised, my mind was changed. I decided to go to at least see the culture. Nothing could have prepared me for it, and it was very different from my expectations. In all honesty, it was bloodier than I expected. I cried when the first bull died and didn't know if I would make it to the end. As the event progressed though, I understood it a lot more. I also handled it by reminding myself that some cows in America sit in a barn and never move out of the number of square inches they take up, and they never see light or grass or sun. These bulls are treated like kings their whole lives then come to the ring where hundreds of people are cheering them on and want them to do good/triumph. It's truly a unique experience to be a part of a crowd of people giving a bull a standing ovation for performing so well. It was in that moment that I came to respect the event for what it is. Like I said in my post from the farm, the meat gets donated to a market, and the money raised from that goes to a charity/charities. I guess I liked it enough to go back again on Sunday to see los Rejones, bull fighting on horseback.
Today marks two weeks until I step on America soil again. Today is the beginning of the end.
We had our "exit orientation" today where they warned us about culture shock going back into the United States. Like when I first arrived to Spain, I'll have my first roller coaster week of excitement until it sets in that I'm readjusting to a different culture, different schedule, and different foods all over again. As much as I love my family and friends at home too, I know I'll miss my host mom because I've come to love her as well. The thought of saying goodbye makes my eyes prick with tears and makes my throat feel like it's full of cotton. I'm trying not to think about saying good bye, but it's hard when you're finalizing your travel plans to home and buying souvenirs for people. I would appreciate some prayers of strength for these next four weeks. Also, thank you to anyone still reading my blog. I appreciate the support. <3
xoxo,
Caroline
Monday, April 17, 2017
I Took a(n Allergy) Pill in Ibiza
Who am I if I go to Ibiza and don't quote the Mike Posner song?
On Sunday (the 9th), I packed up my bags, watched the pasos of San Roque church from the roof of the school and hopped on a plane to Ibiza. This past week has been Semana Santa, holy week, which means that I had all week of class off and don't go back until Tuesday. We got to Ibiza late Sunday night, and we grabbed some food before passing out to be well rested for the next day.
We woke up Monday and made our way to the old town part of Ibiza. To be honest, it was pretty dead there. It's off season right now (too early in the year), so there weren't a lot of people there, just locals really. We got food at this cool tapa place in old town where we paid for our meal by the amount of sticks we had at the end. The tapas each had these sticks through them, and each stick was less than $2. The food was great, and it got all of us ready to walk around more before heading to the beach. We stayed at the beach pretty late-ish, and when we got home, we cuddled up and watched My Big, Fat Gypsy Wedding in Spanish. The whole night was spent laughing, and it felt just like the sleepovers you had when you were younger. This night was my favorite out of the whole trip, arguably the whole semester.
On Tuesday, we went to a beach in the southern part of the island, and we stayed there all day. We tanned and slept on the beach for at least 5 hours (I think more. I wasn't keeping track of time). Sun burnt and sun worn, we headed back to the hotel to pack up and get ready for our early flight the next day to Barcelona.
At the ripe hour of 6:30 am, we made our way to the Ibiza airport. The flight was super short, and we were back in all of our favorite place again! After checking into the hostel, we walked around some until deciding it was in our best interest to rent bikes for the day. We rode them around the port, up the beach, and to the Sagrada Familia. While the bikes were really fun, they were emotionally distressing. I was behind a man and his wife, and I rang my little bell to warn them I was coming up behind them. When I rode past them, the man KICKED MY WHEEL on my bike to knock me off. Little did he know, I'm a pro bike rider, so I didn't fall. You can sure as heck bet though that I rounded on that man and asked what his problem was. Nothing came out of it, but that is just ONE instance out of like three where people were rude because we were riding bikes. I have a new-found respect for bike riders, y'all. We need to get out of their way.
The next day, we all woke up exhausted because the beds at the hostel were awful, and none of us slept well. We didn't let this stop us for filling the day with lots of activities. We took the metro to Park Guell. Sadly, all the tickets to go inside the park for the two days we had left there were sold out, but we walked everywhere around it. We also saw the Gothic district and cathedral before heading to the port (and the mall there) to wrap up the night.
We checked out Friday morning and got some brunch before seeing out the Roman necropolis. By this point, this was about time for my friend/study abroad cousin, McKayla, and I to head to the airport to catch a flight to our last stop. Málaga.
We got there late Friday night, and I was exhausted and done. Our hostel did not help this fact at all. First off, we checked in at a bar. NONE of the reviews mentioned that check in was at a bar. I had to scream over the music for the receptionist to hear me. It was a mess. ALSO, the wifi "has issues" hooking up to iPhones, so guess who didn't have wifi for awhile? You guessed it.
We had to get out of that place quick, so we watched a few pasos there and found a Taco Bell to chill/eat at. After that, we sadly had to return to the hostel, but it couldn't get worse, right? Wrong.
There was a grown man with grey hairs in his beard in our room. I can't make this stuff up, y'all. Thankfully, he passed out early because he was a little borracho.
We checked out on Saturday, and the room they had to hold our bags until we left had no lockers. The stuff just sat out there, and I asked the receptionist if it was safe. She said, "Yeah. I keep it locked and have the key around my neck." Okay because that stops people from going in there and saying my bag is theirs? We dipped with our bags and checked them in at lockers in the train station.
McKayla and I had enough time to eat lunch and spend about an hour in the Cathedral and its museum. The Málaga catedral is honestly my favorite, probably. It was a beautiful mix of the Seville and Granada catedrales. It wasn't insanely big, but I could've spent forever looking at the chapels.
We had to the leave though to catch a bus to Seville. The ride was awful, and for some reason, I get carsick now when I'm on long bus rides (i.e. to Toledo, Madrid, Portugal, and that time). I pray that this whole carsick thing is just a Spain thing.
I slept a lot Saturday and binged all of 13 Reasons Why on Netflix. Traveling and going nonstop is pretty exhausting, but I am happy to say that this was my last big trip before coming home. I might go to a beach town for a few days before I leave, but this past week was it for me. I haven't gone outside of the Iberian Peninsula, and I am completely okay with that. There is so much to see in Spain itself, and I came here to experience this place and this culture. I'm not dogging on the people who traveled a lot outside of Spain, but I am really happy that I spent my time here in my now second home. From today, I have 24 days left. I remember it being February and feeling like there was no way I'd make it to the end, but here I am. 12 days of class left and a little over three weeks left. It'll be hard for me to leave my roots here, but you can sure as heck bet that I can't wait to hug my loved ones in the states again.
xoxo,
Caroline
On Sunday (the 9th), I packed up my bags, watched the pasos of San Roque church from the roof of the school and hopped on a plane to Ibiza. This past week has been Semana Santa, holy week, which means that I had all week of class off and don't go back until Tuesday. We got to Ibiza late Sunday night, and we grabbed some food before passing out to be well rested for the next day.
We woke up Monday and made our way to the old town part of Ibiza. To be honest, it was pretty dead there. It's off season right now (too early in the year), so there weren't a lot of people there, just locals really. We got food at this cool tapa place in old town where we paid for our meal by the amount of sticks we had at the end. The tapas each had these sticks through them, and each stick was less than $2. The food was great, and it got all of us ready to walk around more before heading to the beach. We stayed at the beach pretty late-ish, and when we got home, we cuddled up and watched My Big, Fat Gypsy Wedding in Spanish. The whole night was spent laughing, and it felt just like the sleepovers you had when you were younger. This night was my favorite out of the whole trip, arguably the whole semester.
On Tuesday, we went to a beach in the southern part of the island, and we stayed there all day. We tanned and slept on the beach for at least 5 hours (I think more. I wasn't keeping track of time). Sun burnt and sun worn, we headed back to the hotel to pack up and get ready for our early flight the next day to Barcelona.
At the ripe hour of 6:30 am, we made our way to the Ibiza airport. The flight was super short, and we were back in all of our favorite place again! After checking into the hostel, we walked around some until deciding it was in our best interest to rent bikes for the day. We rode them around the port, up the beach, and to the Sagrada Familia. While the bikes were really fun, they were emotionally distressing. I was behind a man and his wife, and I rang my little bell to warn them I was coming up behind them. When I rode past them, the man KICKED MY WHEEL on my bike to knock me off. Little did he know, I'm a pro bike rider, so I didn't fall. You can sure as heck bet though that I rounded on that man and asked what his problem was. Nothing came out of it, but that is just ONE instance out of like three where people were rude because we were riding bikes. I have a new-found respect for bike riders, y'all. We need to get out of their way.
The next day, we all woke up exhausted because the beds at the hostel were awful, and none of us slept well. We didn't let this stop us for filling the day with lots of activities. We took the metro to Park Guell. Sadly, all the tickets to go inside the park for the two days we had left there were sold out, but we walked everywhere around it. We also saw the Gothic district and cathedral before heading to the port (and the mall there) to wrap up the night.
We checked out Friday morning and got some brunch before seeing out the Roman necropolis. By this point, this was about time for my friend/study abroad cousin, McKayla, and I to head to the airport to catch a flight to our last stop. Málaga.
We got there late Friday night, and I was exhausted and done. Our hostel did not help this fact at all. First off, we checked in at a bar. NONE of the reviews mentioned that check in was at a bar. I had to scream over the music for the receptionist to hear me. It was a mess. ALSO, the wifi "has issues" hooking up to iPhones, so guess who didn't have wifi for awhile? You guessed it.
We had to get out of that place quick, so we watched a few pasos there and found a Taco Bell to chill/eat at. After that, we sadly had to return to the hostel, but it couldn't get worse, right? Wrong.
There was a grown man with grey hairs in his beard in our room. I can't make this stuff up, y'all. Thankfully, he passed out early because he was a little borracho.
We checked out on Saturday, and the room they had to hold our bags until we left had no lockers. The stuff just sat out there, and I asked the receptionist if it was safe. She said, "Yeah. I keep it locked and have the key around my neck." Okay because that stops people from going in there and saying my bag is theirs? We dipped with our bags and checked them in at lockers in the train station.
McKayla and I had enough time to eat lunch and spend about an hour in the Cathedral and its museum. The Málaga catedral is honestly my favorite, probably. It was a beautiful mix of the Seville and Granada catedrales. It wasn't insanely big, but I could've spent forever looking at the chapels.
We had to the leave though to catch a bus to Seville. The ride was awful, and for some reason, I get carsick now when I'm on long bus rides (i.e. to Toledo, Madrid, Portugal, and that time). I pray that this whole carsick thing is just a Spain thing.
I slept a lot Saturday and binged all of 13 Reasons Why on Netflix. Traveling and going nonstop is pretty exhausting, but I am happy to say that this was my last big trip before coming home. I might go to a beach town for a few days before I leave, but this past week was it for me. I haven't gone outside of the Iberian Peninsula, and I am completely okay with that. There is so much to see in Spain itself, and I came here to experience this place and this culture. I'm not dogging on the people who traveled a lot outside of Spain, but I am really happy that I spent my time here in my now second home. From today, I have 24 days left. I remember it being February and feeling like there was no way I'd make it to the end, but here I am. 12 days of class left and a little over three weeks left. It'll be hard for me to leave my roots here, but you can sure as heck bet that I can't wait to hug my loved ones in the states again.
xoxo,
Caroline
Thursday, April 6, 2017
Adiós a El Colegio de la Sagrada Familia
Today was my last day at my internship at the school I've been working at. 70 hours later, I have made bonds with these kids that I was really sad to let go. With the older kids, we exchanged Instagram accounts, so I'll be able to stay in touch with them. I'm more sad about saying good bye to the little first graders. I have no idea how elementary teachers can spend a whole year with their students and survive saying good bye to them every year. I was a wreck today, and I was only with these kids for 70 days. Teachers are some kind of strong, and we should appreciate that strength more.
I feel like through this semester these children have thought me that language and culture doesn't mean anything when you get down to it. They love and laugh just like I do. I never once felt like the language barrier with these children hindered the relationships I made with them. When I was saying good bye to them (and crying), they understood exactly what was happening, and I knew that from the somber looks on their faces that mirrored my own. We all stood there and hugged each other, and after we said goodbye for the last time, some students came around for a second hug because emotions don't know language. I pray these children stay blessed and happy. I am thankful for the 70 hours I had with them and the other kids as well. My internship was a success in my eyes.
As much as I hate to say it, I only have five weeks left in Spain. Yes, you read that right. Five. I still can't figure out where the time has gone. One of the other students at the colegio interviewed me today, and in the interview, she asked me, "What places in Sevilla are your favorite? What will you miss?" For me, this was a really hard question to answer because there aren't places in Seville, aside from my host house, that I feel like I really like a lot. When I leave Seville, I will not miss the places here.
I'll miss my host mom and the way she tells me to eat more bread, like all the time.
I'll miss my walk to school each morning even though it's 1.5 miles long one way.
I'll miss the classmates that have become my second family.
I'll miss the children at the school and the teachers there.
I'll miss how normal it is to listen to Spanish music (don't expect this to stop anytime soon)
I have never been a person to really miss certain places. I'll miss people or things like I miss driving my car around Lubbock on a warm day with the windows down, and the wind blowing in my hair while I listen to my Lynn&Laina playlist. Today, I felt really nostalgic and homesick for a place I haven't even left yet. I just pray that these next five weeks are full of happiness, laughter, and memories to last a lifetime.
xoxo,
Caroline
I feel like through this semester these children have thought me that language and culture doesn't mean anything when you get down to it. They love and laugh just like I do. I never once felt like the language barrier with these children hindered the relationships I made with them. When I was saying good bye to them (and crying), they understood exactly what was happening, and I knew that from the somber looks on their faces that mirrored my own. We all stood there and hugged each other, and after we said goodbye for the last time, some students came around for a second hug because emotions don't know language. I pray these children stay blessed and happy. I am thankful for the 70 hours I had with them and the other kids as well. My internship was a success in my eyes.
As much as I hate to say it, I only have five weeks left in Spain. Yes, you read that right. Five. I still can't figure out where the time has gone. One of the other students at the colegio interviewed me today, and in the interview, she asked me, "What places in Sevilla are your favorite? What will you miss?" For me, this was a really hard question to answer because there aren't places in Seville, aside from my host house, that I feel like I really like a lot. When I leave Seville, I will not miss the places here.
I'll miss my host mom and the way she tells me to eat more bread, like all the time.
I'll miss my walk to school each morning even though it's 1.5 miles long one way.
I'll miss the classmates that have become my second family.
I'll miss the children at the school and the teachers there.
I'll miss how normal it is to listen to Spanish music (don't expect this to stop anytime soon)
I have never been a person to really miss certain places. I'll miss people or things like I miss driving my car around Lubbock on a warm day with the windows down, and the wind blowing in my hair while I listen to my Lynn&Laina playlist. Today, I felt really nostalgic and homesick for a place I haven't even left yet. I just pray that these next five weeks are full of happiness, laughter, and memories to last a lifetime.
xoxo,
Caroline
Tuesday, April 4, 2017
Noa Falo Portuguese
This last week was a fun one! It's been over a week since my last post, but it won't take too long for me to cover everything. Wednesday was my roommate's birthday, so we had a week of celebrations. It started Wednesday with gifts and an afternoon snack with friends, tortilla de patata, and tarta chocolate (chocolate cake). Also to celebrate her birthday, all of us girls (11 of us) booked a weekend trip to Portugal to celebrate! We Love Spain was the travel company we used, and it was a really great time! 10/10 do recommend to future study abroad students.
We left Friday morning for Albufeira, Portugal. This city is a neat little beach town in between Faro and Lagos. We showed up and checked into our hotels before heading straight to the beach! We took this time to lay out and get started on our tans (or sunburns). The sun and the beach were so refreshing, and it was a great way to relax after a test week. Our hotel has kitchens in the room, so we had spaghetti for dinner before getting ready to start our weekend in Portugal!
On Saturday, we loaded up the bus early to go to Sagres, Portugal to see the End of the World. Before people knew the Earth was round, they believed that this place was the end of the world, and it was very sacred to the Romans. They believed that the sun set into the water here, and this was place where the sunset was the widest and biggest. The cliffs were so huge, and it was breath taking to see a place so old and rich with history. The mythical beliefs and stories around this place are fascinating and worth a google. After this, we went back to Lagos to enjoy the beach there for a few more hours. Santa Maria beach was where we went to first to spend four hours sun bathing, exploring caves, and looking at the sea life like an octopus and some shells! After this, we went into the heart of Lagos for dinner and relaxation before heading back to Albufeira.
The next day, we went to another part in Albufeira, and the bus dropped off some of the people at one beach. The rest of us who signed up to kayak and paddle board went to a different beach to do those activities. I've never paddle boarded before, and now that I've done it, I can't imagine how I have gone 20 years without knowing about this. It was so fun and so relaxing. This is going to sound really corny, but I felt very at one with the ocean, the expanse of the Earth, and life while I was in the coves and cave. That doesn't really make sense in writing, but at the time, all I could think about was how everything made sense. There is so much to our world, and we only live in a teeny, tiny part of it. I'm so lucky to have the opportunity to travel and see all of these places and be on the ocean and feeling like anything is possible. It was an adrenaline rush minus the feeling of urgency. I could've just sat on the ocean all day, and I would've felt fine just being there. I was also on the same ocean that touches America which is a cool thought. It made me feel close to home.
We grabbed lunch after that then made our way back home. We all parted ways a little red, a little sandy, and a little sun exhausted. I slept better that night than I have in a very long time.
Yesterday was the dress rehearsal and last class for the Sevillanos dance that I've been learning this semester. We put on our dresses, and the teacher did our make up in el estillo de Féria. We danced and had such a great time! It was sad saying goodbye to our amazing teacher, but we swapped Facebooks. Thank God for social media now because it really can connect the world. It's a cool thing. I have pictures from all of this past weekend and yesterday in my 2017 pt. 2 album, so check 'em out! This is a short post, but the next one will be super long because I'm going to Ibiza, Barcelona (again, I know), and Málaga next week! Until next post.
xoxo,
Caroline
We left Friday morning for Albufeira, Portugal. This city is a neat little beach town in between Faro and Lagos. We showed up and checked into our hotels before heading straight to the beach! We took this time to lay out and get started on our tans (or sunburns). The sun and the beach were so refreshing, and it was a great way to relax after a test week. Our hotel has kitchens in the room, so we had spaghetti for dinner before getting ready to start our weekend in Portugal!
On Saturday, we loaded up the bus early to go to Sagres, Portugal to see the End of the World. Before people knew the Earth was round, they believed that this place was the end of the world, and it was very sacred to the Romans. They believed that the sun set into the water here, and this was place where the sunset was the widest and biggest. The cliffs were so huge, and it was breath taking to see a place so old and rich with history. The mythical beliefs and stories around this place are fascinating and worth a google. After this, we went back to Lagos to enjoy the beach there for a few more hours. Santa Maria beach was where we went to first to spend four hours sun bathing, exploring caves, and looking at the sea life like an octopus and some shells! After this, we went into the heart of Lagos for dinner and relaxation before heading back to Albufeira.
The next day, we went to another part in Albufeira, and the bus dropped off some of the people at one beach. The rest of us who signed up to kayak and paddle board went to a different beach to do those activities. I've never paddle boarded before, and now that I've done it, I can't imagine how I have gone 20 years without knowing about this. It was so fun and so relaxing. This is going to sound really corny, but I felt very at one with the ocean, the expanse of the Earth, and life while I was in the coves and cave. That doesn't really make sense in writing, but at the time, all I could think about was how everything made sense. There is so much to our world, and we only live in a teeny, tiny part of it. I'm so lucky to have the opportunity to travel and see all of these places and be on the ocean and feeling like anything is possible. It was an adrenaline rush minus the feeling of urgency. I could've just sat on the ocean all day, and I would've felt fine just being there. I was also on the same ocean that touches America which is a cool thought. It made me feel close to home.
We grabbed lunch after that then made our way back home. We all parted ways a little red, a little sandy, and a little sun exhausted. I slept better that night than I have in a very long time.
Yesterday was the dress rehearsal and last class for the Sevillanos dance that I've been learning this semester. We put on our dresses, and the teacher did our make up in el estillo de Féria. We danced and had such a great time! It was sad saying goodbye to our amazing teacher, but we swapped Facebooks. Thank God for social media now because it really can connect the world. It's a cool thing. I have pictures from all of this past weekend and yesterday in my 2017 pt. 2 album, so check 'em out! This is a short post, but the next one will be super long because I'm going to Ibiza, Barcelona (again, I know), and Málaga next week! Until next post.
xoxo,
Caroline
Sunday, March 26, 2017
Finally A Real Matador
My last blog post was a week ago (yesterday, oops), but there is so little time left here and so much left to do. A week ago today, I watched the live-action Beauty and the Beast. It left me #shook. I recommend the movie to ALL audiences because it was truly a modern masterpiece. I appreciated the forward thinking by the producers to include a gay character and a transgender person into the film (even if it wasn't explicitly stated) along with multiple interracial couples. It gave a little modern twist to a Disney classic that represents all people from a variety of backgrounds. I could go on forever and ever about the new music (Beast's song) and CGI work, but this is a travel blog not a cinematic one. So back to mis viajes.
I spent the beginning of last week recovering from all of the Spring Break traveling. Against my sleepiness, I went to Sevillanos, the dance class, and I learned I am way more behind than I thought I was. I have only missed the last two classes. One was the day after the Barcelona flight disaster, and the other was when my parents and froomie were here. All in all, I have some catching up to do and some dancing to practice before Fería week. We only have 21 days left of class (25 if you include last week), so our classes are also getting to crunch time. With finals, final papers, and projects looming in the near future, I wonder how people in the past accomplished all this traveling and finishing/studying for everything we have to get done before May 10th.
On Thursday, I went to my internship as normal, and I told my best friend, Javier (age 7), that I would be done working there in two weeks. Javier was very upset by this, but he had the best idea ever. He got a little post it note and handed me a pencil then proceeded to say, "Give me your number." This cracked me up, but I know where Javier is coming from. He wants to have my number, so we can continue to talk after my job is over. I told him that it wasn't a good idea for me to give him my number, but his mom could add me on Facebook maybe. Like Javier, I don't want to lose the connections and relationships I have made through this. It breaks my heart to think that I have talked to these kids for the past 5 or 6 weeks, and when I leave, that's it. Nothing more. I'll never hear from them again, and I'll never know what ends up happening to them. I guess this is how all teachers feel after they say good bye to students they have formed bonds with. It sucks. A lot. It almost makes me a little thankful I switched away from teaching because I get too attached to people too easily. Good byes of this sort have always been hard for me, even when I was little. I vividly remember sitting on my swing set and crying when I was six after my last day of Kindergarten because I was sad to never see my teacher again. I cried on the last day of school every year until I was through elementary as well. Anyway, I may be happy to have free-time once I finish with my job, but I am not happy to have to say good bye to my favorite students.
That same day, we had orientation over the Toros. Bull fighting has a strong history within Spanish culture, and before this meeting, I refused to go watch the Toros. No part of me wanted to see a bull struggle then ultimately get killed after being hurt and worn to exhaustion. I did learn a few things during that meeting that turned my hard no into a perhaps. First off, the meat from the bull goes to a market, and all of the proceeds go to a charity. In the past, the meat was donated to orphanages or things of that nature, but now it's easier for the money to be donated and the meat sold. With the particular breed of bull necessary for the fights, their meat isn't good after they've lived for five years, and the bulls usually go to the ring around 4-5. Either way, they would have gotten butchered. Bull fighting, in the eyes of Spaniards, isn't about the bull dying either. It's about cheering on the bull for being a good bull and serving its life before dying valiantly. It's about the bull fighter and bull being connected, and the bull fighter learning about how the bull works. It's emotional, and it isn't taken lightly. We also got to meet a bull fighter, Jesús Franco Cardeño, and he showed us the capes the bull fighters use to provoke the bull, the capes they wear, and el Traje de Luces. He was very nice and let us put on/play with all of his stuff including the sword they use to end the bull's life. I felt like a real like Matador (#longlivethematador) which is also known as a Torero.
Here is a link for the video of when his face got gored by a bull's horn: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5-r5tmPsA4.
To follow up the meeting about the Toros, we spent the next day at la Finca Las Monjas. This is a farm where they raise the bulls for the bull fighting. In each bull fight, 6 bulls are killed by either 3, 2, or 1 person. These bulls are raised to be very large with defined muscle tone. They are also very specific about the bull never seeing a person walking (i.e. on two legs) , so the bull doesn't know what a person is when they enter the ring. They only handle the bulls through a tractor or on horse back, so we rode around in a trailer attached to a tractor to view the bulls. They were exactly like I expected them to look. Beefed up and gross looking, to be honest. They live in large cercas (area enclosed by fence) where they could walk around and roam. The people on horse back make sure to handle with bulls with a lot of care and caution as well. Being on a farm gave me a lot of nostalgia for home. Not to mention, I got to ride a horse AND cuddle with a puppy.
After we viewed the cercas, we watched them test a cow to see if she'd be a good mother for future bulls. She was put into the ring and tested on aggression, endurance, and the ability to learn not to run into the horse (this will make sense when you look at pictures and videos). They acted as if she was a bull in the ring complete with the capes and all. I thought she did a good job, but I later learned that the owner thought the opposite which means she went to the butcher that night. They are very selective with their mother-picking process, and sadly, not everyone can make it through. The cow that day started strong and ended weak. They look for cows that start out so-so and end strong.
We spent the rest of the weekend celebrating a friend's birthday and catching up on the seemingly endless amounts of homework !!! how fun
I only have 46 days left here, and I can feel the end creeping up. My host mom, roommate, and I talked about it the other day, and we are all very sad about parting ways. Leaving Spain will be very difficult, but my little nostalgic day at the farm in the country reminded me why I've been missing home and Texas skies so much.
xoxo,
Caroline
I spent the beginning of last week recovering from all of the Spring Break traveling. Against my sleepiness, I went to Sevillanos, the dance class, and I learned I am way more behind than I thought I was. I have only missed the last two classes. One was the day after the Barcelona flight disaster, and the other was when my parents and froomie were here. All in all, I have some catching up to do and some dancing to practice before Fería week. We only have 21 days left of class (25 if you include last week), so our classes are also getting to crunch time. With finals, final papers, and projects looming in the near future, I wonder how people in the past accomplished all this traveling and finishing/studying for everything we have to get done before May 10th.
On Thursday, I went to my internship as normal, and I told my best friend, Javier (age 7), that I would be done working there in two weeks. Javier was very upset by this, but he had the best idea ever. He got a little post it note and handed me a pencil then proceeded to say, "Give me your number." This cracked me up, but I know where Javier is coming from. He wants to have my number, so we can continue to talk after my job is over. I told him that it wasn't a good idea for me to give him my number, but his mom could add me on Facebook maybe. Like Javier, I don't want to lose the connections and relationships I have made through this. It breaks my heart to think that I have talked to these kids for the past 5 or 6 weeks, and when I leave, that's it. Nothing more. I'll never hear from them again, and I'll never know what ends up happening to them. I guess this is how all teachers feel after they say good bye to students they have formed bonds with. It sucks. A lot. It almost makes me a little thankful I switched away from teaching because I get too attached to people too easily. Good byes of this sort have always been hard for me, even when I was little. I vividly remember sitting on my swing set and crying when I was six after my last day of Kindergarten because I was sad to never see my teacher again. I cried on the last day of school every year until I was through elementary as well. Anyway, I may be happy to have free-time once I finish with my job, but I am not happy to have to say good bye to my favorite students.
That same day, we had orientation over the Toros. Bull fighting has a strong history within Spanish culture, and before this meeting, I refused to go watch the Toros. No part of me wanted to see a bull struggle then ultimately get killed after being hurt and worn to exhaustion. I did learn a few things during that meeting that turned my hard no into a perhaps. First off, the meat from the bull goes to a market, and all of the proceeds go to a charity. In the past, the meat was donated to orphanages or things of that nature, but now it's easier for the money to be donated and the meat sold. With the particular breed of bull necessary for the fights, their meat isn't good after they've lived for five years, and the bulls usually go to the ring around 4-5. Either way, they would have gotten butchered. Bull fighting, in the eyes of Spaniards, isn't about the bull dying either. It's about cheering on the bull for being a good bull and serving its life before dying valiantly. It's about the bull fighter and bull being connected, and the bull fighter learning about how the bull works. It's emotional, and it isn't taken lightly. We also got to meet a bull fighter, Jesús Franco Cardeño, and he showed us the capes the bull fighters use to provoke the bull, the capes they wear, and el Traje de Luces. He was very nice and let us put on/play with all of his stuff including the sword they use to end the bull's life. I felt like a real like Matador (#longlivethematador) which is also known as a Torero.
Here is a link for the video of when his face got gored by a bull's horn: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5-r5tmPsA4.
To follow up the meeting about the Toros, we spent the next day at la Finca Las Monjas. This is a farm where they raise the bulls for the bull fighting. In each bull fight, 6 bulls are killed by either 3, 2, or 1 person. These bulls are raised to be very large with defined muscle tone. They are also very specific about the bull never seeing a person walking (i.e. on two legs) , so the bull doesn't know what a person is when they enter the ring. They only handle the bulls through a tractor or on horse back, so we rode around in a trailer attached to a tractor to view the bulls. They were exactly like I expected them to look. Beefed up and gross looking, to be honest. They live in large cercas (area enclosed by fence) where they could walk around and roam. The people on horse back make sure to handle with bulls with a lot of care and caution as well. Being on a farm gave me a lot of nostalgia for home. Not to mention, I got to ride a horse AND cuddle with a puppy.
After we viewed the cercas, we watched them test a cow to see if she'd be a good mother for future bulls. She was put into the ring and tested on aggression, endurance, and the ability to learn not to run into the horse (this will make sense when you look at pictures and videos). They acted as if she was a bull in the ring complete with the capes and all. I thought she did a good job, but I later learned that the owner thought the opposite which means she went to the butcher that night. They are very selective with their mother-picking process, and sadly, not everyone can make it through. The cow that day started strong and ended weak. They look for cows that start out so-so and end strong.
We spent the rest of the weekend celebrating a friend's birthday and catching up on the seemingly endless amounts of homework !!! how fun
I only have 46 days left here, and I can feel the end creeping up. My host mom, roommate, and I talked about it the other day, and we are all very sad about parting ways. Leaving Spain will be very difficult, but my little nostalgic day at the farm in the country reminded me why I've been missing home and Texas skies so much.
xoxo,
Caroline
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)