Why saying goodbye is so difficult

{bus rides out of Madrid}

A few weeks ago, I was chatting with a friend from D.C. about study abroad. She was trying to decide between Spain and Thailand and wanted me to share a bit about my experience. She asked me what my favorite part about being here in Madrid was and I honestly didn't know how to answer. "Ask me again after I leave," I joked.

Sometimes I forget that a part of me, however small, is actually a teensy bit excited to go back. I have a semester of only classes I want to take, rather than courses for general education requirements I need to fulfill. I have an internship I'm looking forward to starting. I have all my friends and family and a new dorm room and my city. So it's not that I'm returning to a life that makes me miserable or even unhappy.

But the thing is, my time in Madrid has been everything I expected and then so much more.

Are you in love with your life? I'm not asking if you're happy, if you're not depressed, if you like your job and friends and house and car. I'm asking if you wake up every day genuinely excited to do things, whether they're part of your daily routine or adventures that are wholly new. I'm asking if you have fun, the way you did as a little kid, running around and screaming and laughing so hard your stomach hurt.

Because I really do love my life here. I love waking up and having breakfast in the backyard, where it's quiet and sunny and kind of cool and I have a blanket, a mug of tea, and a notebook. I love spending a couple hours with my host kids and feeling kind of like a kid myself. I love exploring my city every day without worrying about assignments or due dates or schedules and just seeing where the day takes me. And I love having dinners as a family and talking long after the food is finished about anything and everything.

And again, it's not that I don't have things about my life in D.C. or home in Jersey that I love, too.

It's just that I'm happy here. Really, really happy. Happy in a way that scares me, makes me wonder if I was almost living my life wrong before and if there are things I need to change, makes me wonder if this is too good to be true and if the way I feel will fade once I get on that plane back to Newark.

That's my favorite thing about this city—I'm happy here. I go to dance classes and spend weekends in new cities and buy too many things from ZARA and ride bikes for hours in the park and eat fried potatoes dripping in oil and slathered in sauce and I love it all. And it's not as though my life here is perfect; it's not and expecting it to be would be ridiculous. I couldn't go on being an au pair forever, and I miss taking classes and seeing people I love and going to a Taco Bell that has vegetarian options. And sometimes it really gets quite lonely. But things don't have to be perfect to make you so happy it hurts.

The thing is, I don't have to deal with a lot of the crap that makes me unhappy at home. There are no stressors, be they social or professional or academic. And that's taught me what I need to cut out of my life now, how I need to develop a better outlook on my future, and how I need to better deal with stress related to school by taking time out for myself to just sit and think and breathe. But even beyond the fact that I don't have any stress here, it's also that I get to learn something new every single day. I'm constantly growing and learning and progressing and it's wonderful and invigorating to feel such a change in yourself and your life.

The takeway for me here is that there are so many changes I want to implement in my life in the States, to add what is needed and subtract what is not and to thus allow this experience and its influence to spread beyond these twelve weeks, beyond this city and country and continent and who I am in it. And I plan to do just that. But keeping all this in mind doesn't make me any less reluctant to go, doesn't make it any easier to let it all go.

But I'll be back for you Madrid. I'll be back before you can forget me and before I can forget who I am here. I'll be back and this time—it'll be for good.

~ V

I'm never leaving Spain.

Today, after our last language exchange, I said goodbye to Javier and decided I was really craving patatas bravas and patatas aioli. So I walked over to a bar I had passed a hundred times, a little hole in the wall that seems like only really old people ever visit, the kind of place that hasn't been renovated in years and is dirty and old and vintage in an unironic way. And I went in and ordered the best deep fried potatoes slathered in sauce I'd ever tasted and was sitting there writing about things on my mind about Spain and leaving and learning and loving and all off a sudden I was trying not to cry. I'm 20 years old and it is in no way socially acceptable to cry in a bar in the middle of the day—especially not with only a glass of water and fried potatoes by my side. 

But I just didn't want to leave Spain and felt overwhelmed by the feeling that I was being forced to do so against my will, forced to go too soon before getting a chance to learn all that I have to learn. And what do you know, the universe decides now is a good time to play "Uptown Girl" on the crappy old TV in the bar, the kind that is too old and big to even be hooked up on the wall. And mild spoiler alert if you haven't seen Trainwreck (in which case, please get on that ASAP) but "Uptown Girl" is ~v important~ and ~eMoTiOnAl~ and I couldn't believe it was playing right at that moment. In the film, the song plays at moments of emotional upheaval and catharsis (by which I really just mean an 80s movie-esque musical number and confession of tru luv) and here in real life it played at my moment of kind of freaking out over having to leave and trying to hold it together in public. And I just stared at the TV and started laughing a little bit, and while I don't think my laugh was full-on maniacal in a somebody-get-this-girl-a-straightjacket kind of way, it must have been a little bit concerning guessing by the way the elderly couple sitting behind me me smiled at me sadly on their way out. 

And because I'm apparently a masochist I decided to listen to "Vienna" on my way back, and while I really don't understand why Vienna is waiting for me or what good it's going to do when it's Madrid I want, I do know that I've got so much to do and only so many hours in a day and only four days left at that, so that's where I'm at right now.

I mean I guess I should go back and finish my undergrad and see my friends and family or whatever. I'm just not going to pretend that leaving doesn't absolutely suck. Any advice for yr girl on dealing with this feeling? 

~ V 

Week 10: Four Things I Learned This Week in Spain

{view from la Alhambra}

This has been the fastest and best summer of my life. It seems like I say that every year, but in all honesty, I can remember every day I've been here in such detail that it seems impossible that three whole months have passed by. While the last days of summer are always the sweetest, I'm never quite ready for the season to end and having to come to terms with leaving Madrid and Spain really isn't making this any easier.

{el Generalife}

1. Separation anxiety is a thing. Really, though—I'm not ready to leave. There's so much about my life in Spain that has opened my eyes and made me think: the differences in the ways children are raised here, the importance of history and the rich and deep history that Spain has, the differences in women's issues between the now three countries I call home, the ways that race is regarded, etc. These are things I haven't even touched upon in my posts here, but that's because I'm still learning; I would never want to put a half-informed observation on here, never want to risk offending any one person, never mind a whole country and culture that I'm not yet a part of. I learn so much every day that I'm here, even on the days when I go about my routine of spending the morning with the kids, having lunch, and hitting up the same cafe and shops in the city center. But as much as I have learned, I know that my journey isn't finished—I still have so much more to learn to gain from here and I seriously CAN'T leave. You see that right? I HAVE to stay here longer. I'm basically obligated to. Realistically I'm fully aware of the fact that I can't stay here any longer (at least not without a visa), nor can I just take a semester off of GW to continue being an au pair in Madrid. In all honesty though, knowing that doesn't make leaving any easier.

{Casa de Zafra}

2. Goodbyes are a bitch. I have gotten so incredibly lucky with my host family that it almost feels too good to be true. My host parents are so considerate and accommodating and always go out of their way to make sure I am comfortable and happy and that I am getting the most of my experience. They've taught me so much about Spanish history and culture and have endless recommendations and words of wisdom. The amazing thing about the au pair-host parent dynamic is that they're not completely authority figures in the way that parents are; they're like cool, older friends who know so much but still get where I'm coming from and what it's like to be nineteen and want what I want. Mine are both such incredibly intelligent and kindhearted people and I've had some amazing, fulfilling conversations with them. Real, good conversation is one of the most valuable things to me and I've appreciated everything they've done for me, every opportunity they've provided for me, while I've been here. I'm so sad to be leaving them and to not know when I'll see them again. 

And let's not forget the kids! I've learned so much about them these past ten weeks and I mean, you can't help but grow to love them. They're incredibly sweet and adorable, even at their "worst." They're both going to grow up to be such amazing people and it hurts to think I won't get to see it happen. It's impossible to live with such an amazing and inspiring family for three months without getting attached, and I expected as much coming in. I just didn't know it would hurt so much to leave. Would it be a tad bit clingy if I moved in forever and never, ever left?

{view from Mirador de San Nicolas}

3. Being a romantic doesn't make you hopeless. Javier and I were discussing how dating differs across countries and cultures and we got to talking about flattery and compliments. He taught me the words halagos and piropos, which describe excessive, flirtatious flattery, used when a suitor tells the object of his/her affections that he/she is beautiful or smart or funny or whatever. I told him how behavior like this can sometimes be not only annoying but also offensive. Why use words you don't mean? Why ruin them or debase them or devalue them by using them when you don't fully and completely mean the sentiments they convey? If you tell someone that you love them you (hopefully) mean it. In the same way, why call someone beautiful or kind or inspiring or funny if you don't mean the compliment in the fullest and most sincere way possible? And this goes beyond romantic relationships, too. We should use our words consciously; otherwise we risk doing an injustice to the words themselves or to the people we share them with. And in the case of my conversation with Javier, the excessive nature of using words all willy nilly detracts from the very compliment, turns it into something that isn't the simple act of one person offering a kindness to another, one person expressing their interest for the other. It's an insult to words and an insult to the person you're throwing them at.

Javier responded by laughing and saying that if he thought a woman was beautiful he was going to tell her; if not, he sure as hell wouldn't tell her she was ugly. I laughed and told him that was besides the point—the issue is when you use words you don't mean one hundred percent, when you throw around compliments and words of love and affection when they do not fully or accurately reflect your true feelings. It's dishonest and insulting. We're all adults here. There's not need to feed each other sugarcoated lies, sweet and meaningless compliments. Javier just looked at me and smirked. He explained to me, in Spanish, that he thinks the issue here is that I'm a romantic.

{hello MTV, welcome to my crib}

I looked at him and scoffed. Me? No way. I mean when you grow up on a diet of Disney and Bollywood, you can't help but have a certain appreciation for fairly tale romances. But then you grow up and mature beyond that. I sometimes joke that any bit of romanticism I hold is balanced with just as much cynicism.

But after I explained this to him, he pointed out that I clearly valued sincerity very, very much, that honesty and truth in words and sentiments were important to me. I couldn't disagree; I'd said as much myself. But he pointed out that the world doesn't exactly work that way. I nodded. This was true, too. He just looked at me and told me to be careful, that "alguien puede hacer mucho daño," meaning that someone could easily hurt me, and that I should remember that life doesn't work the way I wanted to. After all, not everyone regards and values words and their usage in the same way.

I was shocked. Javier barely knows me. Our conversations barely skim the surfaces of our strong opinions and beliefs; the most interesting thing Javier knows about me is that I don't eat meat. And while this is particularly rare and "exotic" in Spain, it's not exactly some groundbreaking truth about my soul.

{Palacio de Dar al-Horra}

And yet here this man was, clearly having figured out something I wasn't too happy to know about myself. But I guess just because I'm a *shudders* romantic doesn't mean I have no hope, no control, no sensibility. I don't expect the world to be a better place than it is and I don't live my life with some idealistic hope and vision of what it should be. I know what I want (in this case, for people to value words as they deserve to be valued, and to recognize the weight that they hold) but I'm not so blind as to think that my dreams are reality. So I guess this is me coming out in the open as a romantic. But hey, it's okay because any sense of hope you throw my way I'll be sure to knock down with a healthy dose of cynicism and skepticism. Because I'm no Carrie or Charlotte; I'm Miranda, goddamnit.

{bus ride to Granda}

4. Granada is perfect. I went on my second solo-travel trip this past weekend, and while Granada doesn't have a beach, it is an amazing city. I lucked out with the weather and managed to avoid the stifling humidity that's common in the South during this time of the year, and I found a pretty good hostel and cheap bus tickets. I spent my days in Granada exploring the Alhambra and other monuments around the city, walking through the most beautiful streets, and eating at great cafes and bars. My favorite thing about Granada is definitely the architecture. The city is characterized by its Islamic historical legacy and you can see the Spanish-Muslim influence everywhere. I loved letting myself get lost in random streets all over the city and just appreciate the unique houses and buildings everywhere. And because the city is so hilly, I got to see some amazing views, extending from the city outskirts all the way to the mountains.

{check out the hands on this one}

I have two weeks left and plan on finishing everything on my Madrid bucket list this week. That way, my last few days in this city will be spent just redoing my favorite things rather than rushing to fit everything in. Hope you are all enjoying the end of the summer!

{Casa del Chapiz}

{merienda at a cave in Sacromonte}

{jardines}

{el Bañuelo}

{el Generalife}

{more jardines}

{la Alhambra}

{la Alhambra}

{outside el Palacio de Carlos V}

{la Alcazaba}

{Partal}

{exploring los jardines del Generalife}

{Corral de Carbón}

~ V

Read also:Week 1, Week 2, Week 3, Week 4, Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, Week 8, Week 9

Week 6: the One Thing I Learned This Week in Spain and Italy

{Rome at sunset}

I’m halfway there, you guys. And not halfway there in the way that you are in a marathon or a math class, when you’re counting down the miles or minutes until freedom, but halfway there as you are with a really good meal, when you look down at your food, willing it with your eyes to last longer. (It never does.)

I’m six weeks in and at this point, I have six left to go. It’s weird, being at this crossroads. I know what I want to do differently, but I don’t know how. I know I’m looking forward to seeing about four more cities, celebrating my twentieth birthday, and hopefully starting some new books. But beyond that, I’m not sure what to make of the time that has passed and the time I have left.

{sunlight through stained glass}

I know I’ve learned a lot. These weekly posts have forced me to reflect upon and then consequently chronicle just that. And I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting on my own as well, in the safety of my on head or journal or private conversations with friends. When I started, I thought by now, at this halfway point, time would have flown, and it did. But the weird thing is, I simultaneously feel like I’ve done so much that there’s nothing left to do, and yet, that I have so much left to do and not enough time.

And as weird as it is to admit on such a public space, it feels like I’m missing something. I was sitting in Plaza Mayor one evening with a friend and some American tourists walked in and the mom looked around and said, “That’s it?” It was funny then, and still is now, because that’s such an accurate representation of how I’ve been feeling. This is it? Instead of posting my usual weekly bulleted list, I’m just going to say this, that my life isn’t as glorious as it looks on Instagram or on this blog or whatever, wherever. Nobody’s is. I’m hot and sweaty and complaining half the time, and I’m not trying to pretend that it’s any other way. Don’t get me wrong, I know how incredibly cool it is to be here where I am right now, to have these opportunities to do what I’m doing. And I’m grateful for that, truly. But I think halfway through is a good time to focus on reality, to take off those rose-tinted tourist glasses and just stop and take Madrid for what it is: another city, another home.

{Barcelona}

For the remainder of my time, I'm going to look at Madrid as this home instead of just another new place to explore before crossing off some imaginary bucket list. I'm going to appreciate the food and the places and the people, just like I do in D.C., and I'm going to take advantage of what's offered to me as best as I can. I'm going to enjoy the last few weeks of summer and freedom and appreciate it all. After all, I've only got six weeks left.

~ V

{peacock in Madrid}

Read also: Week 1, Week 2, Week 3, Week 4, Week 5

Week 3: Six Things I Learned This Week in Spain

Now that I've been in Spain for three weeks, a bit of the novelty has worn off. While I'm still just as amazed by all the beautiful architecture, sunsets over the mountains and Madrid skyline, and deep history behind so much of what I've seen and done, I'm starting to get tired of the routine I've made for myself. I spend about three hours commuting to the city center and back every day, and even though I try to do three new things each day, I still end up in the same parts of the city. I've done nearly everything on Trip Advisor, and this coming week, I'm going to make a bigger effort to go beyond the tourist attractions and see more of what makes Madrid amazing. Here's what I learned this week:

1. Sunburn is real. For about two weeks, my skin has been unusually dry. I tried drinking more water and applying lotion more regularly but nothing worked. It took the skin on my arm to begin peeling for me to finally realize that my skin isn't just dry, it's sunburnt. While most people are used to this, since I'd never had sunburn before (ever), I didn't recognize what the hell my skin was doing. In the three weeks I've been here, I've definitely gotten a shade or two darker but it's hilarious to see that after years of spending summers at the beach or in India, all it took was wandering in Madrid to make my skin burn.

{Templo de Debod}

2. I need to stop spending so much money on food. Inspired by Chelsea Fagan's TFD, I've been keeping track of all I've been spending in the Notes app on my phone and one day, I decided to log it all into a spreadsheet (it's amazing what you can do when school and internships don't take up all your time). I included columns for item purchased, where it was bought, the cost, and what category it falls into: food, clothing, or travel. When I finished logging everything in, I noticed that while I've spent more money overall on travel, most items I purchased were food. It's one thing to grab a sandwich for lunch, but logging in my purchases made me realize how much I could cut back on unnecessary purchases like bubble tea, coffee, and pastries. (I say this now, but I know that when I walk into Sol tomorrow I'll be telling myself that life is too short to not splurge on a napolitano de chocolate.)

{Plaza de España}

3. Speaking of which, you can get Tex-Mex in Spain. I went to Toledo on Sunday with some friends and we stopped at a Tako-Away for lunch. The restaurant is a chain that I've seen elsewhere in Madrid so it's not anywhere close to authentic, but it's definitely a healthier alternative to Taco Bell. I absolutely love Tex-Mex and was surprised to see it available outside of the US.

{Toledo}

4. I also need to stop traveling every weekend. Last weekend I went to León, Oviedo, and Gijón, and this weekend I went to Segovia and Toledo. Five cities in two weekends is not cheap you guys. The money spent on bus fares, food, water, and souvenirs add up and unless you're on a day trip, you have to factor in hostels as well. I'm going to spend this next weekend in Madrid and finally explore el Rastro.

{view of Cathedral de la Almudena from el Palacio Real}

5. The Royal Palace is amazing. My friend Carly and I went inside el Palacio Real this week and it did not disappoint. My visit to Versailles last summer was a bit overwhelming; I was tired after a commute out of Paris, stressed about fitting everything into our last day in France, it was rainy outside, and every room was crowded with visitors. In comparison, going inside el Palacio Real was amazing. There were fewer people, but everything was just as beautiful. The only downside was that we weren't allowed to take pictures for the majority of the tour. If you're in Madrid, I definitely recommend a visit to the Palace.

{Carly and me outside el Palacio Real}

6. Being an au pair allows you to meet the coolest people. Madrid has so many au pairs, especially over the summer, and it is so incredibly easy to make new friends. Before coming here, I was unnecessarily worried about meeting people and having friends to travel and explore with, but after three short weeks I have friends who I see fairly regularly and yet I still meet new people all the time. Just this week, I met a fellow American from Chicago and we had a great conversation about American politics, the endless differences between here and home, and more. Likewise, the people I've met from all around the world are great as well; it's amazing to be reminded how easy it is to connect with people whose lives and backgrounds are different from yours, and I know that if it weren't for this au pair experience, I never would have met them.

Since I'll be in Madrid next weekend I'd love some recommendations! Is there anything you think I should do or see? Let me know in the comments below.

~ V

Read also: Week 1, Week 2

A Day in León

{view on our way to the Catedral}

This past weekend, my friend Mette and I planned a spontaneous trip to the north of Spain. And by spontaneous, I mean that we decided which cities to visit on Thursday afternoon, bought the tickets and booked the hostels around 10 PM, and by 5:45 AM the next morning, I was headed towards the bus station. We planned our trip around three cities—León, Oviedo, and Gijón—with a day in each.

{Catedral Santa María} 

León was incredibly beautiful and charming. I have a soft spot for small cities; since they're so easy to navigate, you can travel on foot and save the cost of transportation and in doing so, you also get to know the area better anyway. Since everything about this trip was so last minute, I finished packing and planning around 1 AM and was able to get a whole four hours of sleep before getting ready for the day, but as usual, a combination of caffeine and excitement got me through most of the day.

{Mette and me being touristy}

{Plaza Mayor}

After arriving in León around 12:45 PM, Mette and I headed straight to our hostel to drop off our bags and start exploring. Thanks to some kind American tourists I met at the bus station, we were well-equipped with a decent map of the city, and we started our tour by heading towards Catedral Santa María de Regla. Along the way, we also saw Casa de los Botines, which is a Modernist building designed by Gaudí. Casa de los Botines is definitely different than many of Gaudí's other works (la Sagrada Familia, Parque Güell, etc.) and if it weren't for a small plaque explaining Gaudí was the architect, I wouldn't have believed it. 

{Casa de los Botines}

Soon enough, we reached the Catedral, which was so beautiful. We only looked at it from the outside though, and perused through an open market in the area. We grabbed some quick bites here and at one point, we decided to stop in a bar, where we each got a beer and split some delicious patatas bravisimas, which were essentially fried potatoes dripping in oil and seasoned with garlic.

{churros}

Throughout the rest of the day, we also managed to visit the Museo de León, Basilica de San Isidoro, and Plaza Mayor. Unfortunately, I was running on very little sleep and was also tired from the long bus ride, so we headed returned to our hostel a mere four hours after we had initially checked in, completely exhausted. I passed out nearly instantly, managing to only take out my contacts before passing out, still in the same jeans from the day. 

{Plaza Mayor}

After breakfast the next day, we grabbed our bags and headed back to the bus station for our ride to Oviedo. Here are the rest of our pictures from León:

~ V