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 9: Five Things I Learned This Week in Spain

{la playa}

The sadness is starting you guys. Just a few days ago, I was complaining about what I would do to fill my time here. My routine was beginning to feel monotonous, especially when all the au pair friends I made here left and I had to sort of start over making new ones. And here I am, with only three weeks left and already sad about all the goodbyes I'll have to say to the people and places in this city I've called home. I've started focusing on what I'll miss so that I have time to especially appreciate it and fully come to terms with having to leave. This way, I (hopefully) won't be a tear-stained mess at the airport, and I'll be able to leave without any regrets. Here's what I learned this week:

{Atocha}

1. Poetry jams are freaking amazing. While I've taken some creative writing classes in which we've had to read our work aloud, I've never actually gone to a poetry reading. This past week, I went to one in the city and absolutely loved it. Most of the poems were in Spanish, and while I could glean the meanings of most words and the overall project of the poem, I knew I wasn't getting all I could out of the experience. That is, until the last poet went up on stage. This guy was just amazing. He performed his poems in a way that was unique from the other presenters, relying on music, pop culture references, and even humor in his pieces. He spoke in half English, half Spanish, and kind of yelled and sang his words rather than saying them. His words didn't sound hokey or forced or pseudo-intellectual or like he was trying to play the role of some tortured artist; it all worked and all the elements of his performance blended so well together. To give you a better idea of his performance, his first piece on the Age of Information included references ranging from Hannah Montana to Ulysses, while his second was performed to the beat of "We Will Rock You," and required the audience to get involved. I'm definitely going back before I leave (hopefully this week!), and I'm going to start going to more poetry jams in D.C. when I get back.

{wandering Valencian streets}

{streetlights in Valencia}

2. Traveling alone. Friends have been recommending solo travel to me from the start, and because I feel so safe in Spain (even without a cell phone that has internet access!) I decided to give it a go. I went to Valencia this weekend, and while the beach itself was quite dirty, I had such a great time. I woke up when I wanted, ate whatever I felt like, and I did what I desired. It sounds so simple, but it's more liberating than you'd think, and as much as I love traveling with friends or family, I definitely want to travel alone more often. I didn't feel lonely even once, and I loved being able to take in the city at a pace and level that fit exactly what I felt like in the moment.

{perfectly blue skies at the beach}

3. Speaking Spanish. I only just realized this week that I won't be able to speak Spanish every day when I go home. I don't have room in my course load to take any more Spanish classes, and of course I won't be able to walk the streets of D.C. and greet every shop owner and server in Spanish. Doing a language exchange has helped me so much and when I'm back in D.C., I'm really hoping to meet with a fluent native speaker who I can speak with for a couple hours a week in just Spanish.

{beautiful balconies}

{Valencian architecture}

4. The importance of having time to yourself. When you live on a college campus, chances are that you don't get a lot of "me" time. I generally spend my days around my roommates, drowning in piles of textbooks (or let's be real, spending hours skimming through Buzzfeed articles), at an internship, or out with friends. And when I do have a few moments alone, I tend to waste it catching up on TV shows or reading crappy books to distract myself from how stressed I am, rarely letting myself just sit down and think and enjoy time by myself. And as much as I love everything about my life back home, sometimes it's nice to break away from the bubble that is your college campus or your city or even your friend group. It's nice to be able to take a step back and just reflect on what matters to you and who you are outside of your setting. And when you have a commute that forces you to spend three hours a day alone and inside your head, you get to think, a lot. I've done so much reflecting about myself, my goals, and what's important to me and it's been huge for me. I've had some breakthroughs and a whole list of things to focus on for this upcoming school year, including but going beyond just the academic. At first I used to resent my stupid bus schedule. Missing one bus can sometimes mean waiting one or even two hours for the next. But now, I really value it. It's amazing to have time to reflect on your day as you return home, or on your weekend after a trip to a new city. While I won't have that when I go back to D.C., I'm now going to make a more conscious effort to really unwind and think, rather than using TV or books to cope with stress.

{puffy clouds at Nuevos Ministerios}

5. What home feels like. I used to go to India every other summer and I would straight up bawl at the airport each time I arrived and left. When I left, it was because of all the family I was leaving behind and because I didn't know when I'd be back (especially considering it's now been six whole years since I've been to India), but when I came it was because I just felt an overwhelming sense of home. I don't consider myself to be an overly-romantic person, but the idea of feeling so incredibly connected to a city in which you're nothing but a tourist, in feeling such a sense of home and belonging and love, of it hurting because of how much it means to you and how happy you are to be back—all of that is just so sentimental. And now I miss India every day, and it seems like as more time passes the more often I think about it. The streets, the corner shops, the smells (both good and bad), the dogs, the homes, the heat, the smell of the freaking rain. It just hurts because of how much I want it and how long it's been since I've had it, especially since I'm so connected to it. I was born in Bombay, but there is so much more to why I think of it as home.

And now that I've been in Madrid and I'm so incredibly aware of the little time I have left, I'm starting to get that sadness. How long is it going to be until I step back on Spanish soil? How many years am I going to be haunted by memories of everyday, mundane details of living here to the point where it hurts? I knew before I came here that I was going to fall in love, but I think at the back of my head I always regarded this as a sort of romantic idealization of a country I knew nothing about; I didn't take myself too seriously. And for a while I thought I was right; for a while I worried that I expected too much of this trip, more than any place can offer a person. But here I am, with only three short weeks left (even midterms are longer than this!) and I'm sad because it's going to hurt not only when I leave, but for weeks and months and years after. And I know it will, because it already does.


It took me less than a month after moving into college to call D.C. home, but I don't think until I missed it as much as I do this summer that it ever fully and completely became home. I starting longing for my city and my monument runs and my cafes and my friends and my cupcakes and my metro the way you do when something truly becomes yours. But all I've done while I've been here is just breathe the city in. I've had hardly any responsibility and when you don't have an internship and a full course load taking up all the time you have to think, you get to relax and just open your eyes and take it all in. I love this country and damn it, three months just isn't enough.

{driving through miles of sunflowers}

I'm struggling to cope with the fact that I leave so soon, but I'm more motivated than ever to make the most of my time here. I hope you guys enjoy the rest of your week!

{arriving in Valencia!}

~ V

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

Today I almost died and then I became the Mother of Dragons

Well, kind of.

Today I went hiking and exploring with my host father and brother along with another family. We drove to Monte Abantos and later saw el Monasterio de San Lorenzo de El Escorial. 

{view of el Monasterio from our hike}

We started with a hike and climb that felt pretty steep to me. In reality, I guess it wasn't too bad. The three kids were all between 7 and 9 years old and they handled the hike with more grace and agility than I did, but in my defense, they do this sort of thing all the time while I really didn't know what I was doing. I kept stumbling and tripping and at one point I made the very foolish mistake of looking down to see the surrounding area. Needless to say, I became way too aware of how high we were. I think we were less than a mile above sea level, but all I saw were steep rocks and way too many ways to fall or slip to certain death. Everyone was ahead of me and I just looked at my host father and asked if I could just stay put where I was and wait for them to finish.

 {hiking trail we took on our way down; way easier than the way we climbed on our way up}

Looking back, it's actually pretty funny. Here are all these kids handling the hike without any problem, and then there's the gringa American behind them, slightly out of breath and irrationally afraid of heights and positive that she's going to die that day. I mean if you're going to die, might as well do it in Spain, right? But there I was walking along thinking, "I at least need to graduate college before I die. I at least need that damn degree." And while I like to think of this trip as more than some eat-pray-love overly romanticized bullshit, at that point I was like, "holy crap I'm going to die, and if there is ever a time to start praying again it should be now right?"

{el Monasterio}

Luckily my host father was able to reason with me and point out that I was literally a 30 second walk/climb away from where we were going to stop. So I told myself to shut up, stop embarrassing myself, and just go. So I didn't die today guys. I didn't break the fifth goal of my trip to Madrid and now I can continue to pay GW in my blood and soul, so all is right in the world again.

{exploring el Escorial}

{el Monasterio from the inside}

As for the Khaleesi moment, the highlight of the day for me was el Monasterio. My photos really don't do the view from our point in the mountain justice; the entire scene was so beautiful that I felt right there that this would be the highlight of my trip. Day 3 in a three-month trip is way too early to peak, but there are worse things in life. But going back to the Game of Thrones stuff, the monastery really resembles these scene in which Daenerys (or Baenerys, amirite?) Targaryen looks down at ~her people~ in yet another scene focusing on her and her unsullied. And trust me, I realize how ridiculously vague that sounds but in all honesty, I really don't pay enough attention to remember exactly when or where this happens in the show. So for the thousandth time, I'm drawing more attention to my stupidity on the internet but you know what, talk to me when you go to Spain and feel like you're going to die one second and then feel like the Mother of freaking Dragons looking down at her kingdom while waiting for her missing monster to return the next second and then we can talk.

Anyway, that's enough of my rambling, here are some more photos from our day:

{flowers: a gift from my host brother}

{a pond we found that had blue dragonflies, loud frogs, and these flowers}

{el Monasterio from the outside}

{mariposa}

Tomorrow I embark on my first visit to the city! Wish me luck!

~V