Home sweet home

I wanted to just write a final blog post to officially wrap it all up. I've been home now for just less than two months and it's been great. I've been so busy this summer with camps, college visits, drivers ed, and hosting my spanish host sister for the whole month of july. I haven't had much time to stop and think about what I've left behind in Spain, and for that, I don't think it's really hit me. I never really experienced the whole "reverse culture shock". Maybe I will later. Who knows. But like I said, being home has been great. My friends are still the crazy amazing girls I love and my family is still as strong as ever. I've even found that being away for a year has made my relationships with some people grow stronger.

Of course though, I'd be lying if I said Spain hasn't changed me. It's changed me in more ways than I'll ever know. It's changed me in the way I think, the way I view the world, other cultures, different people. I've grown a tolerance for uncomfortable situations and I've learned to accept differences, in cultures and people, as how they are. Although I've learned a lot about the spanish culture, and a whole lot of spanish, I definitely learned the most about myself in those 10 months. I just have a better understanding of myself. I can't explain to you really what that means.

Thanks to Spain, I've also uncovered my love for running. I've continued running here and actually began cross country this fall. Spain also reminded me how important family is and I'm so thankful for the one I have.

Exchange years aren't easy. They will throw you into the weirdest, most uncomfortable situations, and pull you in so many directions sometimes you feel like you might split down the middle, but in the end they will be worth it. You won't look at the world the same after. And I truly believe that no matter how rough some of the situations are, you will be benefited from it. I've become a stronger person because of this year.

Thank you all for an amazing year. Your support kept my head up and got me through it. I'm so thankful for the opportunity I had to study abroad and I hope to use my experiences in my future.

Gracias a todos en España quienes me ayudaban y me recibían con tanto cariño. Siempre estaré agradecida. Tenéis una casa en EEUU.

Muchos besos
Hasta siempre
Martha

No es un "Adios" es un "Hasta Luego"

Putting all these thoughts, all these emotions into coherent sentences is a whole lot harder than I thought it would be.

As I sit here, on my little green couch in my study on my last full day in Navia, I can't imagine ending this life. My suitcases are packed, my spanish flag is filled with signatures, and my passport lays on my nightstand, but still my brain doesn't register what's going on. I seem to always have the same problem. It didn't hit me that I was leaving the US until the day I said goodbye to my friends and family. I couldn't imagine seeing my parents for the first time in 7 months until I had them in my arms. So this time, why would I expect it to be any different? I can't wrap my head around the fact that in less than 24 hours, I'll be in the car on my way to Oviedo, to say goodbye to my family here in Spain, stay with my host aunt for the night, and then catch the bus early the next morning to Madrid.

I'm so glad I picked Spain as my country to study abroad. I could've gone to south america to learn spanish, and I'm sure I would've had an amazing experience, but there's something about the spanish culture. I can't put it into words. The relax, the siestas, the friendliness of strangers, the tapas, the fiestas, the loving nature of the Spaniards. It's a culture unlike any other. Now that I've adopted to this culture, I'm not going to leave behind all the things I love. Maybe somedays, you'll find me eating my lunch at 3:00 just because I feel like it. Or maybe, I'll take a little siesta after a long morning. I don't have to completely separate these two cultures that have now become a part of my life. Instead, I'm going to live a mix of the both. I know it will be hard readjusting to the american culture, but I know I can do it. I did it all by myself to a complete foreign culture, and now, I'm going to be doing it with my friends and family right behind me.

These 10 months have been the hardest 10 months of my life. Without a doubt. But they have also been so fulfilling. There were times when I didn't think I could make it. When I would've jumped right on the next plane home. But then, there were times when I would close my eyes, and think, "I'm so lucky." And thankfully, those times were more common than the others. An important thing I learned, is that this is my life. hahaha I know it sounds corny, but really. There are moments that suck, moments that are unreal, and moments so beautiful I wish I could relive them over and over again. All in all, this life is what I make it. It's in my control.

Yes, I am sad to leave this all behind, but I also think what it means that I'm returning home. It means a group of ten crazy best friends will finally be reunited. It means that a grandmother will soon be able to hug her only granddaughter again. It means that a mom and a dad who have lived "childless" for 10 months, will have both their kids under the same roof. It means I'll be able to learn how to drive, and eat all the food I've missed in these 10 months. It means that although it's hard, it's worth it.

There are no words I can say, or write, or even think of, to express how grateful I am to everyone who has helped me along the way. Friends, family, spanish, american, whoever you are, know that I wouldn't have made it without you. Special thanks to my two families. My spanish family, Bea, Suso, Javier and Lucia for being so loving and welcoming to me these 8 months. And to my american family, for being so supportive and strong for me when I most needed it. I hope one day, we can get all 8 of us under the same roof.

So for the last time from my little green couch in Spain,
Besos,
Martha

Am I fluent?

One of the most common questions I get asked by people in the US is, "So, are you fluent yet?" I find myself asking the same question, but I'm not sure how to reply. Yes it's true that for the past 9 months I've been living in Spain, technically by myself. I converse every single day from 7:30am to 11:30pm in Spanish (ok maybe more like 8:30 because I'm a zombie in the morning). Actually, the only English I ever speak is in English class, my bilingual ethics class, or online, talking to friends or family back home. Most of the music I listen to is now in Spanish, and in my free time, I've started reading a love story called, "El cielo está en cualquier lugar" (The sky is everywhere). So all this, but at the same time, I'm hesitant to throw out the word, fluent.

The thing is, even though I can talk to just about anyone, anywhere, in any situation, I still make a ton of mistakes. My Spanish teacher is patient with me, and grades my tests with an understanding mind, but I still see her nervous pen marks changing gender errors, adding accents, or correcting verb tenses. I understand most of what I hear on the daily news channel if I pay attention, but if I zone out, I completely miss it. After all this time, I still don't get the jokes of the comedy channel that we sometimes watch, although I can follow along with the pictures. My history teacher asks me to read sometimes in class because he says he loves to hear my american accent. I live in a world of Spanish but I still have gaps in my understanding.

So what makes someone fluent? According to google, fluent can be defined as;  Able to speak or write a particular foreign language easily and accurately. But who can measure "easily" and "accurately"? If that means without making any mistakes, then I can name a handfull of Americans I know who wouldn't fall into the category of fluent in English with all the grammar mistakes they make. Also, what is "easily"? Some days, I'm so talkative I feel like I could spark a conversation with just about anyone, but some days, I can't even find a few words to say during lunch because my brain feels like a fluffy cloud of nothingness. 

So you see my dilemma. 

To answer this question as honestly as I can, yes, I can speak in Spanish and yes I understand basically everything (minus the punchline to the joke), and yes, reading and writing aren't hard for me. It could be my personality, or my vague understanding of the word, but I would still hesitate to call myself fluent. 

Maybe I've just learnt that it's an ongoing process. Just like I learn new English words everyday, even when I've spoken the language for about 16 years, I'll continue learning spanish as long as I put the effort in. It's impossible to assume I could grasp the equivalent of 16 years of knowledge in just 10 months, but hey, I'm definitely a lot closer to that goal of "fluent". Or maybe, my criteria is completely wrong and I really am fluent. Sería cojonudo. 

Well, fluent or not, I'm still here, and I'm still learning. Going to make the most of these last three weeks I have left. 

The AFS family

Ya know that place? With those people? That we went to one time? And you did that thing that you do? Yea… Neither do I.

AFS + Spaniards

I had no idea how to start this blog post and whenever my family tells vague stories, they usually start like the one above. So there ya go. They always say the beginning’s the hardest to write and now it’s written.

So this past weekend was our last AFS reunion before the final one in Madrid, before getting on our planes to go home. This reunion was special because it wasn’t only the usual exchange students from Asturias and Castilla-Leon, but also Spanish students who are going abroad with AFS either this summer, or next school year. Talking to them was so incredible. Crazy how fast the roles have switched, and now I’m the experienced one: reflecting on my year and giving advice to those who are about to start their own journey.  It was especially fun to talk to the students who are going to the US. They have so many questions about how it is, the stereotypes, the food, and the weather. I definitely see their fear behind some of their words, but it’s so overpowered by excitement and wanderlust in their eyes. It’s funny because I remember when I was in their position. Still hadn’t received my host family, an amazing summer just around the corner, and sooo naïve about the future. I feel for them and I’m excited for them.

AFS goes indian...

The actual orientation wasn’t that interesting. We did the typical weird AFS activities, even dressed up as Indians at one point. As always, the best things happened in between the sessions.

Surprise 3am pictures

Although the group of “experienced” AFSers spent a good amount of time with the Spaniards, we couldn’t help but wander off on our own a little and find comfort in being with each other. This might seem strange, and you probably won’t understand where I’m coming from if you’ve never been an exchange student, but these 10 other students, they’re my family now. Just 9 months ago, we’d never even heard of each other’s names, at the first orientation we were still learning who was who, but by the midstay orientation, we’d formed a bond that I’m hoping will last forever. We just get each other. We vent to each other about everything. They’re some of the first people I go to when I’m feeling down because they’ve been there before. They’ve seen me at my complete worst in October as I left the orientation in tears, they’ve seen me when I’ve showered in rain boots and ate nonstop in January, and now, they’ve seen me tanning and singing Taylor Swift songs at the top of my lungs. They’ve seen me at 4am and 7:30pm. In a sweatshirt and yogas with no makeup on. Crying, laughing, happy, and depressed. They’ve seen it all. And hey… they still talk to me so I guess that’s a good sign! I can’t begin to describe how lucky I am to have them behind me. I know I can tell them anything and they’ll always support me. They’re more than a community. They’re my family.

The fam

So this weekend was definitely bittersweet. At one point, we received letters that we had written at the first orientation in October. My letter literally left me with my mouth wide open and my heart pounding. It’s incredible how much has changed since then and when I look back at how far I’ve come, I can’t help my tear up a little. Reading my words was so powerful.

Leaving that camp was also bittersweet. Knowing the next time I see those people will be when we are about to board our plane in Madrid. I never would've thought I'd become this close to people I've only seen three times in 9 months, but it's happened. Love you all :)

P.S Please excuse my awkward introduction. I was too lazy to pull something interesting out...

La Ciudad de Amor

If you've never been to Paris, do everything you can to go. I can't even begin to describe how beautiful it is. What I can say is that in just six short days, I fell in love with the timeless city of love.

Just imagine, you're walking down a street of pebbles. Bright sun on your face and the smell of warm crepes in the air. The apartments to your left and right are all the same light beige, intricately detailed columns, doors, and balconies, all only reaching three or four stories as to not block out the beautiful blue sky. If you look up, you can see chic french people sipping tea or coffee on their beautiful iron terraces. Bustling around you is the life of the city, the people. Street performers, lost tourists, and actual natives trying to get to work in time. Overlooking the city, the eiffel tower can be seen from almost every place you go. The beautiful cathedrals, government buildings, and museums are numerous, each one unique. The streets are filled with charming bakeries, classy restaurants, typical touristy stands, and high end fashion brands like Gucci, Prada, and Luis Vuitton. If you get a chance to go up the eiffel tower, or maybe the arc of triomphe, you realize the dense city that surrounds you is so full of history, but yet so alive.

If I could go back, I would walk around without a map, or a watch, and lose myself in those parisian streets.

Coming back was a weird feeling. It marked only two months left here in Spain. Like I always knew would happen, I'm beginning to feel a mix of emotions but I'm not going there yet. I'm just embracing the moments as they come.

There are waaaayy too many pictures to post them all but if you're interested, I'll be posting them on my picture blog so check it out! http://marthainspain2012.tumblr.com

Here are some of the highlights:

boarding the train

Arc of triomphe

After climbing up 200 something stairs to the top of the arc

Notre Dame

Sunset from the Eiffel tower

Dancing in disney

Reunited after 7 months

When the bell rang at 2:30 on wednesday, for most of the students it meant the beginning of spring break, no more studying, and freedom at last, but for me, it meant I was one step closer to seeing my parents. I had the opportunity that most exchange students never have a chance to get; I brought probably the most important part of my old life (my family) into my new life here abroad. Many exchange students live their wholes lives in two different, separate worlds, never intertwining the two. By having my parents come visit me, I made my life one whole journey, instead of two separate chapters.

Having my parents here gave me an insight I'd never had a chance to see before. In a way, I kind of saw my old self in them. They gave up complete control to me to plan each day. When they got on the plane in Philadelphia, the only thing they knew for sure was they were coming to Spain, and they would see me. They arrived in Madrid alone, unable to understand a word of the language that people were blabbering around them. They managed to work their way around with hand gestures, the few words they knew, and those beautiful irish smiles.

That was me just seven months ago. I entered a world completely foreign with no understanding of where I was going, how I was going there, who'd I'd be going with, when I'd be returning ect. I totally gave up control to people I had never met and hoped I'd make it out alive. Sure, I studied spanish for a few years in school and I knew how to say "Hola, que tal?" and I knew basic vocab like "sol" (sun) "montana" (mountain) "leche" (milk) "chocolate" (that one's pretty obvious) ect. but nothing can prepare you for that feeling when, for the first time, you're surrounded by the language so pure, so strong, and you can't pick up a single word. I could relate to the blank expressions that I saw on my parents' faces as someone would stop them in a store, mistaking them for a native, or perhaps when I would start chatting with the bartender. I was there one time. The amazing thing is to see that old part of me in them, and see how far I've come.

I successfully translated the whole back and forth conversation between my parents and my host family, with the help of my host siblings. I even managed to keep a conversation with the waiters at restaurants without struggling. With a few pointers from the receptionist at the hotel, I successfully found my way around the city without getting lost. I was no longer that zoned out foreigner, but instead, a confident, blond, spanish speaker with a slight american accent.

What still feels like a dream to me, is that my parents were in this country with me. The whole thing just seems so surreal. I acted like their experienced tour guide, bringing them from town to town, city to city, giving directions, and never getting lost. I showed them places that at one time, meant nothing to me, but now, are part of my life: my school, my apartment, where I hang out with my friends in the afternoons, and where we go out on saturday nights. This whole world that has slowly become a significant part of my life. I felt so proud to show off the things that they were still strangers to, especially the food. Of course they had to try the traditional "Fabada Asturiana" (bean dish from my region). They also had to eat as much chorizo and spanish tortilla as they could because, as I told them, they're only here once so they might as well.

I could see in their eyes not only their interest in everything new, but also their fascination. They've heard stories and seen pictures of my life here, but until now, they've never had a chance to put those faces, or those places into reality. Everything was new to them, everything a mystery. They only experienced the surface level of the cultural differences that have now become second nature to me.

Being with them has helped me see how much I've changed, and how much I've stayed the same. We still get along just like always, laughing together, making fun of each other, and maybe occasionally, being competitive. One day during lunch, over probably the best pizza I've had in Spain, we began to talk about how each of us has changed. Although not as drastic as my adventure in Spain, my parents have both taken on big changes in their lives this past year that have forced them to stay up working long nights, go outside their comfort zone, and look at things from a different perspective. The point is, we've all changed in some way, big or small, but that hasn't hurt our relationship.

Seeing them was a dream, and leaving them was bittersweet. I know three months is nothing compared to the seven months I've been here. I also know that once those three months are over, I'm not sure when I'll see some of these people, or this beautiful town again. I'm just so thankful to have the parents I have. They've supported me without question and have encouraged me to be the best person I can be. Truely thanks to them, I am where I am today. I love them more than I could ever tell them, but I think they know that already :)

The weekend I spent with them will remain one of my favorite weekends here in Spain. I can't wait to hug them again.

Boring post

The truth is, there's no point in this post. I had no intent to write a blog post until much later because I had nothing new to share, but my dad actually gave me the idea to write this boring blog post. "It might be reassuring to someone reading it in those first difficult weeks - as bad as your start was, there is hope, it does get boring!" He told me. So this post is brought to you thanks to him.

The fact that this life here in Spain has become something normal for me was inevitable since the beginning, but I could've never imagined calling it normal. How can living in Spain ever be normal!? I thought. Well, it doesn't hit you all at once. It sneaks up on you. Day to day you don't get knocked off your feet so much, you're not struggling with the language, and you start really knowing the people, and the places around you. You start to form a schedule. You won't feel like a deer in the headlights when someone addresses you directly, you how to formally talk to elders, and you start to learn how to crack a joke. You understand almost everything in class, which allows you to completely ignore the teacher while you day dream. You cram the night before for big tests, you always talk about how all you want to do is sleep, and the people in the local candy store know your name. Basically, you start to live in your surroundings and make your own life here.

So as this post doesn't really have a point, I could go rambling on about things that don't really matter for days. What I'm trying to say behind all of this is that a month has gone by since anything really "big" happened and I'm okay with that. Next week, I'll be turning 16, and less than two weeks later, I'll be walking around Navia with my mom and dad. Then, three weeks later, I'll be in Paris and then I'll be on the final stretch of my time here in Spain. Sometimes, a break is good. It's like the calm before the storm of events that will lead up to my final weeks here in Spain.

So to people back home; nothing new over here in Spain. Just chilling.

And to future AFS students; no matter how crazy it seems, you'll end up calling this foreign country home.

That's all for now!

A point on the horizon

One of the most beautiful things you can experience is the sunset or the sunrise. I've been lucky to see them both, in many different places. I watched the sunset in Hawaii surrounded by my family. I also watched the sunset on a boat right off the coast of Maine. Just this summer, I got up at 5:00am with my best friend Molly to watch the sunrise on the beach. I'm lucky that I can add Spain to the list of places I've seen the sunset. It's really beautiful here, the way the sunsets behind the mountains. No wonder we're so obsessed with sunrises and sunsets, it's a natural type of beauty that we get to see everyday not once, but twice, if we want to. There's just something magical about the way the sun falls beneath our line of vision, casting beautiful, rich colors across the sky, and the way it always appear again; peaking it's tip slowly and then all at once, lighting up the sky to start a new day.

Sunset in Navia

Halfway is a major point. At one time in my life, not too long ago, it seemed like just another point on the horizon, so far away, so untouchable, a hypothetical place I thought I would never reach. But I shouldn't have been so ignorant about time. Time doesn't stop for anyone, or anything. My five months in Spain have made me believe that time doesn't move constantly. It's not a linear passage of events, but instead, our messed up, biased perception of our surroundings. There were times when I thought my day dragged on for weeks, like the moments were moving in slow motion, and there were times when I wondered how another week had possibly flown by. Anyone who has asked me, knows that when I look back on my five months I think two things- It feels like yeaarrrsss but it feels like just yesterday. How is that possible? Well... it's just my messed up, bias perception.

So now, the halfway point has come and gone and each day is one less day that I have left. I'm no longer homesick, I am so happy here, but at the same time I'm so excited to go home. Talking to some of my fellow exchange students made me realize that most of them have already gotten to the point of never wanting to come home, but for me, that's just not the case. I don't know if it ever will be the case. Of course I love Spain. I love the culture, the family, the food, everything! but America will always be my home. It will always be the country that made me who I am, filled with the people I love, and the culture I come from. I'm trying to learn as much about Spain as I can while I'm here, but in the end I know that I will be going back to the US one day, and I'm okay with that.

So my point on the horizon now is June 29th. A day that will come, without a doubt, but in this moment it seems so unreal. I know that day will bring a mix of emotions like a tidal wave and there is no way I can do anything to prepare for it. Even though watching the sunrise or sunset is beautiful, it lasts for mere minutes. Just like some dates we have in our head, for me, the end of this journey, seem like magical days, unlike all the rest, in reality they aren't any different. The sun will rise, the time will tick, and the sun will set. So with that in mind, I'm not focusing on the horizon point right now, but instead, looking around me, taking it all in, because I know I won't be here forever.


Happy Belated Birthday Ekorb <3

Turron, Noche Buena, and a whole bunch of differences

"There's no place like home for the holidays no matter how far away you roam. When you long for the sunshine of a friendly gaze, for the holidays you can't beat home sweet home." My first holidays away from home! I'm warning you, this is my longest post yet. Go ahead, scroll down and see for yourself. I just have sooo much to tell you!

Turron de Tres Chocolates

We started the Christmas season around the second week of December by putting up the small Christmas tree in the corner of our living room, and spending several hours precisely arranging the gold and red ornaments throughout the branches. My host mom put various candles and decorations throughout the house and there was definitely a Christmas feeling in the air. She also bought boxes and boxes of turron. If you've never tasted turron, which I'm assuming many people in the US haven't, you're definitely missing out. There are endless types, almond, chocolate, fruit, nuts ect. but my personal favorite, not to surprise anyone, is the triple chocolate. (note to fellow Spain AFSers: run to the nearest Alimerka and buy this before they get rid of it. You will not regret your 2 euros) Since the beginning of December, there has always been a box of turron in the pantry for after lunch, mid-afternoon, after dinner, or perhaps a little snack before going to bed. I made a joke with my host family that after January 1st, all we are eating is lettuce and tomatoes. No but I actually wasn't joking. They know me so well now that after I eat a lot, they jokingly say, "A correr??" (To run?) That's what i feel like i do here, eat and run, eat and run.

So the real festivities started on Christmas Eve, known as Noche Buena (good night) here in Spain. It's actually bigger than Christmas Day. So I started the day by running (big surprise). Crazy thing was I went running in a tshirt and shorts. The past days have been hot here. Totally opposite from home right? Didn't you guys have a white Christmas? What a dream :) So after my run, Lucia (my host sister) and I ran some errands for my host mom. We picked up groceries for the big feast that night, went to the movie store to rent a chick flick, and went to the cellphone store because Lucia wants a new phone for kings day. When we got home, we had a normal lunch followed by siesta. Around 5:30, Lucia and I went out on the street to meet some friends. We headed back early, around 8, because it was cold and raining. At home, we ate potato chips and watched tv together until 9, when we all went out as a family to the local bar. As tradition in Spain has it, with our drinks, the bartenders gave us free food. More potato chips anyone? By the time we got back home around 10, I was definitely not ready for the mountain of food I was about to eat.

We started with small foods to pick out, like appetizers. There was jumbo shrimp, cheeses, ham, bread, pate (delicious spread of chicken liver. I swear it's better than it sounds) and other spreads. I could've stopped there, but no. Next, we had a full bowl of noodle soup. The main dish was the neck meat of a cow I think. Sounds a bit bizarre but it was so tender and literally melted in your mouth. And the desserts.. oh the desserts. By the time they took out the chocolate mousse, lemon tart, and various chocolates, I was eating for my heart, not my stomach. I had a little chocolate mousse, a small slice of lemon tart, and a cube of chocolate. You have to try everything right?! Let's just say that I probably set a record for the biggest food baby ever after I finished. I couldn't bring myself to move off the couch so there I sat, for the next hour and a half with my family watching some random movie. I slept quite well that night.

Christmas day, I woke up at 12:30. That would NEVER fly in my house back home. The level of excitement I have usually wakes me up at 6:30 and I run into Matt's room to wake him up (and he is always so happy to see my face bright and early christmas day). That's how Christmas morning always worked for us. We would sit together in Matt's room waiting and waiting for what seemed like forever for Grandma to get situated in the living room. Then Mom and Dad would knock on the door and we would run down the stairs; balls of energy, faces lit up in excitement on Christmas morning. But as I knew very well before today, Christmas in another country is completely different. I just didn't realize how different it could be.

So I woke up, half slept walked into the kitchen, and prepared myself my usual oatmeal and yogurt breakfast. I sat there alone, watching the travel channel because there was nothing else on, and eating. It took me a minute or two to register that hey, it's Christmas! My immediate surge of excitement very quickly fell as I looked around and saw the reality. I was eating breakfast alone, at 12:30, without a hint of gifts, in a foreign country on Christmas Day. Well I'm a positive person so I thought, at least I have the rest of the day ahead of me to see what happens on Christmas in Spain and if all else fails, I still get to skype with the whole fam tonight. As I finished my breakfast, my host parents and my sister came into the kitchen in their sneakers and workout pants. "Hola! Buenos dias!" They were going on a walk to the beach and were wondering if I wanted to come. Perfect! I thought. Anything to get my mind off of being homesick. The walk was refreshing and beautiful. The ocean was so blue. In that moment, even though I forgot it was Christmas, I also forgot why I was sad and I just enjoyed being by the beach. The ocean really is a magical place.


So the rest of my day consisted of a regular lunch followed by siesta, watching about 5 old tv episodes, writing a few letters, and wishing my friends back home Merry Christmas. Some friends came to my pathetic rescue by inviting me over around 6. We played Just Dance on the wii for 2 hours straight. The last time I played Just Dance was with one of my bestfriends Claire Pearce at her beach house over the summer. I'm pretty sure we spent a whole day playing. Such good memories. Happy birthday my love <3

In most houses in Spain, they don't celebrate Santa Clause. They say it's an American tradition. Instead, they give their presents on kings day, also known as "Los Reyes Magos." But that will be another blog post.

My highlight of Christmas Day was definitely my skype with Matt and then the entire family at my house back home. It was great to talk to everyone; Aunt Ann, Katie, Emily, Jack, Patti, Joe, Joshua, Kenan, Grandma, Uncle Doc, Aunt Kathy, Aunt Mary, Uncle Gary, Maria, Mom, Dad, and even Pepper wearing his reindeer antlers. I hope I didn't forget anyone! I really felt like I was there with them; making jokes, laughing, and catching up. A big kiss and hug to all of you! Thanks to Matt also for sharing another amazing video blog about Christmas in France. I love having a brother abroad at the same time as me. Even though I know it's really hard for my parents, he's the first person I go to when I need to vent or when I'm homesick because not only is he family and he knows me more than anyone, but he's also going through a lot of the same stuff I am. Love you so much big bro. Sorry for getting all sappy on ya ;)

So as I sit here, just a few minutes of Christmas left, I'm okay. There were moments of my day when all I wanted to do was cry. When all I wanted was to reach through a computer screen and hug everyone I loved who were on the other side. When I wanted to stay in bed all day but instead forced myself to get up and live. Yea, Christmas was different this year, but hey, so is my whole life. I'd be silly to think that christmas away from home would be easy, but just like every experience I've had here so far, I can say that I made it. I can say that it taught me so much about myself, and that it will get better. It will always get better. So if I can't find a little Christmas spirit, I'll make some of my own. I'll listen to my Christmas music and continue to smile.

Merry Christmas to everyone! I love and miss you all

Thankful

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the US, but in Spain, it's just another thursday in November. I asked my host family today if they knew what Thanksgiving was. They looked at me with confused faces. "Es una fiesta" (It's a holiday) I tried to explain. "Es parecido a la Navidad sin el religión y los regalos." (It's similar to Christmas without religion or presents) Still confused... "hmmm es un dia cuando los personas coman un monton de comida." (It's a day when people eat a ton of food) Aaah there ya go. Food. A universal sign of a good time. I also explained to them the translation of Thanksgiving, "Dando los gracias". I think they liked the idea.

After I described the typical food eaten at Thanksgiving, my host mom, Beatriz, starting making an apple pastry.  "No vas a perder una fiesta sólo porque estás en España!" (You aren't going to miss a fiesta just because you're in Spain!) she told me. "Cuando tu familia esté comiendo una tarta de manzanas, tu tambíen vas a comer una tarta de manzanas!" (When your family is eating an apple pie, you are also going to eat an apple pie!) So I will have a taste of Thanksgiving here in Spain this year!

I'll miss the famous "Patti Paulus sweet potatoes", and the time I get to catch up with all my older cousins, aunts, uncles, and family friends (who are more like family by now) this year, but I'm looking forward to my late night skype with all of them :)

Just because I'm not eating "un monton" (I like that because it sounds like mountain, which basically sums up the amount of food the average american eats on thanksgiving) of food this year on Thanksgiving, that doesn't mean I won't forget the true meaning of the holiday.

This year especially, I feel so thankful for so many things. I guess being away from home has really made me realize just how lucky I am. I just wanted to list a few things I'm thankful for this Thanksgiving,

• My Mom, Dad, and brother, who never for a moment made me feel alone when I was so far away from them. I never realized how lucky I am to call them my family until I had to leave them. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and even though we can only talk through a computer screen, our relationship has grown so much in these three months. I miss them everyday but I know I'll be seeing them soon. 

• My best friends back home. When I said I left a piece of my heart in Delaware, I meant it. These girls never failed to make me laugh when I was in the worst mood, or just to brighten my day by sending a letter. I love seeing their beautiful faces on snapchat and I can't wait to tackle them all in June. But until then, I hope they have an amazing sophomore year and never forget they have a best friend in me. (Henar, you too!)

• My AFS friends- Megg, Cameron, Paige, Esther, Jonah, Lani, Alli, Luca, and Maele to name just a few. They are probably the only people who will ever understand exactly what I'm going through. They're crazy, loud, and obnoxious and I love them all so much.

• La familia Menendez-Cosmea- They welcomed me into their house in days notice, and from the very beginning made me feel like a part of their family. They made me realize how important it is to have a family, no matter where you are, and they even put up with my obsession of christmas music months before christmas season starts. 

• Anyone who reached out to me over the past 3 months. You are the reason that I could do what I'm doing with a smile on my face and confidence in my step. The amount of support from back home is amazing and I will be forever thankful for that. 

So for all you back home, have an amazing Thanksgiving. Watch football, stuff your faces, and spend time with your family, but don't forget to also just take a second to look at your life and think about the things you're grateful for. I mean, that is the reason for the holiday after all, right? 

Gobble gobble
Un besito <3

Begin Again

The truth is I’ve been wanting to write this blog post for awhile now, but I don’t know where to start, or what to say, or how to possibly explain all of the emotions I’ve had in the matter of two weeks. I guess I will never be able to explain to anyone the things I have felt, or the reasons I acted the way I did, because even I don’t know. But I’m writing this blog to keep everyone back at home updated, and to future exchange students. So for the folks back home, I’m great now, don’t worry about me, and for the future, courageous exchange students, this probably won’t happen to you. I don’t want you to get discouraged, but I want you to know the possibilities, all the different angles that your exchange could take, and I want you to embrace every single one. They all make up the great experience you’re about to take.

So let me start from the end of one experience, and tell you about the beginning of a new one.

Friday, October 19^th , I got on a bus with my AFS liaison and two afsers in Oviedo to go to the AFS orientation camp in Ponferrada. Those two days with my afsers were some of my favorite times in Spain. I love them all so much and they will never know how much they helped me. Just simply making me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry or spontaneously doing yoga, or maybe playing Never have I ever at 3 in the morning. I am so thankful that I had such a strong support system in AFS. Not only the other students, who understand me more than anyone ever will, but also the volunteers. They told me the truth, even when I didn’t want to hear it, but in the end they were there to hug me and wipe my tears. I can’t wait to see all of them again in February. Un besito para todos <3

On Sunday, October 21^st  , I switched host families. I’m being general because it’s personal, and simply not my place to share. AFS, my old host family, and I, all agreed that the switch was necessary and for the best of everyone. As my AFS friend Megg said, “Switching was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and I don’t wish it on anyone, but if you have to do it, do it.” I’m not going to linger in the past and bring up all the mistakes I’ve made, or the mistakes that I think others have made, instead, I’m going to take those as my tools for the future. Because of this experience, I know what I need to do now. Even though it was one of the hardest days of my life, I look back at it now, and am so thankful that I went through with it.

So on the night of Sunday October 21^st an AFS volunteer, Yolanda, picked me up and drove me to her small quaint town of Navia. I felt like an innocent baby. I had no idea where I was going, I was going to be living with someone I had only known for a few hours, and I had no idea what the future would hold for me. I just laid back, and admitted the fact I was completely powerless, and let the wind take me on it's course. I was emotionally and physically drained, yet Yolanda and I  talked the whole two hours nonstop. I woke up Monday morning feeling fresh. There were no more tears on my pillow, just beautiful Navia sunshine through my window. Since Yolanda is a teacher at the public school in Navia, I would be attending it for the week until they found me a new family. In classes, everyone was so kind to me. No one tried to pester me into telling them the details of why I’m here, they all just accepted the fact an American was going to attend their school for a week and they made it work. During classes I tried to pay attention, but I couldn’t stop thinking. My mind was always racing with questions. Where will I be in two weeks from now? Could I be in Madrid? What if my family doesn’t speak Spanish? Will I live in an apartment or a house? Will I live in a city or in the middle of nowhere? It was like I was back in my house in Delaware, waiting for that first host family information email. Every possibility was open. Even though these thoughts were racing through my head, I told myself that at this point, whoever takes me in, will be doing it out of the bottom of their heart and that’s all that matters. But I couldn’t help but wonder…

 So as each day went by in Navia, I felt like a new person. No, not a new person, just more like me. 

I began to explore the town on my runs, down to the beach, through the woods, and down old alleys. It was small, but beautiful. When the sunsets in the evenings, it casts beautiful purple, blue, orange colors across the sky before it sinks between the mountains. I took a picture yesterday on my run.

On Friday, October 26^th, I packed up my bags for the third time in two months, and Yolanda and I drove to my new host family’s house, in Navia! Turns out that a girl in my class had told her mom about my situation and they lovingly decided to take me in! I was beyond excited to be able to stay in this beautiful town.

So now, I’m writing this blog post from my green, comfy couch, in my study. I’m living in an apartment 2 minutes walking distance from the center of Navia, with a sister, and host parents. I feel so fortunate to be with them and I haven’t been this happy, smiled this much, or felt more loved in two months. I think I’ve already fallen in love with Navia.

I guess things do have a way of working out in the end.