Triana to Tribeca

TRIANA BRIDGE



Well my avid blog readers, this is probably the last one of the series. I might start up again sometime when my life provides something interesting to write about.

The Triangle Below Canal (clever NYC) 

After almost a full day of travel, from the land of toros and tapas, to the city of bagels and big buildings, here I am, back in New York after nine amazing months in Spain. There were ups and down, of course. There were times when all I wanted to do was go home and eat a bagel or go to the grocery store on a Sunday. There were times when I thought, why isn’t the waitress bringing me a complimentary glass of water, and refilling it every 3 minutes? There were times when I missed my family and friends more than anything in the world. But there were also times when I actively realized that I was having the time of my life. I was fully immersed in a Spanish life, not only speaking the Spanish language everyday, but also living the way Spaniards do, siesta and all.

Now, after a week back home, I already feel myself starting to long for the things I never thought I would miss. The air conditioning in my house is making my throat hurt; maybe those crazy Spaniards have a point about turning the AC off at night, even if it makes you sweat a little. When my friends ask me at 12:30 what I want to eat for lunch, I’m thinking are you crazy? Lunch isn’t for another 2 hours!

And then there are those things I knew I would miss. The crazy football fans, the one euro beers, general happiness and no pasa nada way of life, and of course my Spanish friends!

Since I don’t really have a game plan for the future, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect, and watch Spanish soccer! It sure is great to be home, to experience once again my American way of life but at the same time there is something very strange about it. I feel like nothing should be different than when I left in September, but of course life has gone on. My family and friends in New York have not been on hold. And I suppose I have not either. But it is hard to come to terms with the fact that my friends no longer live down the block from me, that I cant hang out with them whenever I want because they now have jobs that require working late during the week. I suppose this is normal, and with time will change.

The time has come where I actually have to figure out what my next move will be. Will I stay in NY and join the daily 9-5 grind? Will I return to Spain for another yearlong adventure, teaching, living and learning? Or will I go in a completely different direction? Only time will tell, so stay tuned!

For now, I want to leave you with a little blurb I found on the internet. Written by a fellow American living abroad in Europe, it explains exactly what I feel right now.

Couldn’t have said it better myself (that’s why I didn’t!):

So you look at your life, and the two countries that hold it, and realize that you are now two distinct people. As much as your countries represent and fulfill different parts of you and what you enjoy about life, as much as you have formed unbreakable bonds with people you love in both places, as much as you feel truly at home in either one, so you are divided in two. For the rest of your life, or at least it feels this way, you will spend your time in one naggingly longing for the other, and waiting until you can get back for at least a few weeks and dive back into the person you were back there. It takes so much to carve out a new life for yourself somewhere new, and it can’t die simply because you’ve moved over a few time zones. The people that took you into their country and became your new family, they aren’t going to mean any less to you when you’re far away.

When you live abroad, you realize that, no matter where you are, you will always be an ex-pat. There will always be a part of you that is far away from its home and is lying dormant until it can breathe and live in full color back in the country where it belongs. To live in a new place is a beautiful, thrilling thing, and it can show you that you can be whoever you want — on your own terms. It can give you the gift of freedom, of new beginnings, of curiosity and excitement. But to start over, to get on that plane, doesn’t come without a price. You cannot be in two places at once, and from now on, you will always lay awake on certain nights and think of all the things you’re missing out on back home.

Stuck in Santiponce

Me and Chelsea at Italica

For those of you who consistently read my blog, the story I am about to tell might sound vaguely familiar (see crises in camas post). Way in the beginning of my time in Seville, I went to a town right outside, Camas, with my roommate Chelsea. We were new in town and didn’t realize that EVERYTHING here closes on Sundays. Ill start with that…

Since this is my last week in Spain (super sad face), I am trying to get everything done that I didn’t get around to in the last 8 months, oops. Today, a Thursday, but a holiday in Seville, Chelsea and I decided to take a trip to Santiponce to see some ancient ruins they have there called Italica. It is actually really cool, I felt like I was transported to a completely different place and time, although the heat was the same! I wouldn’t say the ruins are as impressive as the ones you see in Rome, but still a worthwhile trip.

just chillen with some ruins

Well, anyway, given the holiday in Seville, and lack of reliability of Spaniards in general (sorry Spain but its kinda true-called the bombona man to come before 10am today and at 4:20 he still hasn’t showed) we didn’t really know when the bus was coming. If the bus was following the holiday schedule, it should have come at 10:30, if it was following a normal day schedule it would have come at 11. Well, it came at 10:50, go figure. Good thing we were running late anyway and got there right at 10:30, so we didn’t have to wait too long.

Upon arriving in Italica, my small bladdered and amazing chef roommate reallllllllllllllly (like always) needed a bathroom. So we found her one in the ONLY bar that was open in town. Since we didn’t want to just go in to pee, we sat down and had a coffee and a media tostada doused in olive oil, yummmmm…Gotta live like the Spaniards do for my last week here! I have no pictures since I forgot my camera, but I did take this one picture of my sugar packet. I’m not exactly sure what it means but I think it’s fitting that it has to do with being asleep:

After fueling up on a wonderful breakfast, although an iced coffee would have been nice given the 90 F/32 C degrees, we went to explore the ancient city of Italica. (For free I might add because we were considered European residents by the ticket taker, despite our awesomely American accents)

The signs that explained what everything was were in Spanish, and included a ton of Spanish words I didn’t really understand. So, we didn’t exactly know what we were looking at, but nevertheless, it was cool.

Well, on the way home, it was still a holiday (surprise, surprise, it was only 2 hours later). So we didn’t know exactly when the bus would be coming. We figured the best way not to miss the bus would be to wait at the bus stop, even though it was like sitting in a frying pan. As soon as 15 minutes had passed, Chelsea decided to put her music on and dance around, despite the unbearable heat. I couldn’t help but compare it to our trip to Camas in the beginning of year. Except that time was even worse because we didn’t even get to do what we went to Camas for. For the first 10 minutes I really enjoyed the dancing, it was very entertaining. And I liked it all the way until the bus came, but waiting for something you don’t know when/if will ever come is slightly miserable. I did find it amusing that all the other 3 people waiting for the bus didn’t want to wait with us at the bus stop, even though there was a free show going on.

Finally the bus came (after approximately a 50 minute wait), and we drove right through CAMAS on the way to seville!! It’s strange how things work out. I feel like I’ve come full circle now that I’ve had the same experience twice, but 8 months apart. It is nice to look back and think how much I have changed in these past months. But I’ll save the sentimental blog for later.

Now I’ve got to get started on the packing (another super sad face). It’s not real until the packing begins, so my denial officially ends now. But Chelsea has kindly just brought me a mimosa to make the packing a little more fun (after waking me up with coffee and cooking me lunch). How I am going to miss her!

can't believe i ever wore this stuff!

Don’t get me wrong America + American friends, I am super stoked to see you!

Can’t believe there’s only three more days!