Now that I have been back in the states for a few weeks, I feel like I can give a pretty accurate analysis of the differences. By differences I don’t just mean the obvious: food, people, language. The main difference I have been trying to get used to doesn’t have anything to do with my location. Most “things” are just the way I left them. The TV still has hundreds of channels to choose from. The 40oz drinks are still bottomless. Conan still comes on at 12:30am (eastern that is). You still don’t have to hold the showerheads up in the mornings. Towels still don’t feel like sandpaper. Fresh cleaned clothes still smell awesome. My bed is still soft. People still can’t smoke wherever they feel like it. You can still find any book you want in the library. Everything is still cheap. Everthing is still open from 2-5pm. Everything is still deep-fried. Everyone is still obese. Red meat is still good. Business classes are still boring, and you still aren’t allowed to stroll in a few minutes late.

Really, the main thing that’s changed is me. By the way, gagging at the cheesiness of that sentence is completely acceptable. It seems like everything is the same, but I am seeing it in a completely different way. I never really noticed how hurried everything is. People really like to stare at their watches. Nobody likes to wait. You’re either early, or your late. There is no “on time”.  I never noticed how much stress people put on themselves. I am looking around thinking, “Don’t worry, it’s just a test.  It’s just an extra shift. It’s just a pickle (even though she specifically asked for no pickles)”. People are getting really worked up around me, and I am still in the mellow, Spain-Mode. I’m trying to stay there as long as I can. I know it’s only a matter of time before it all sets back in though… tests, interviews, meetings, projects, resumes, jobs. But, let’s not break me out of my little happy bubble just yet. I am trying to instill this stress-free attitude into my daily life, but it gets hard. That’s the biggest change I have had to adjust to since coming back: trying to stay calm.

At the beginning of the trip, I was always looking for something to keep me busy. I always felt like there was something I had to do, somewhere I had to be. I used to make to-do lists with twenty different tasks I had to accomplish by the end of the day, but after a few weeks abroad I learned to just enjoy the free time. The only thing I had to worry about was what country I was going to go to that weekend.  Right now I am living by something a friend in Spain told me: if you’re still alive, you have nothing to worry about. Actually, I say all this stuff now, but come back to me in a couple months and I will be right back into the swing of the way I used to be. Here’s to hoping I don’t turn out to be like all of those people. Just kidding. Coming back during the summer has been a perfect way for me to transition back to life in the states. If I had to jump right back into another full semester right away, I would be having a much harder timer re-adjusting.  Taking a couple classes during the summer has definitely put me in the position to get used to real work again, which is good. As the guy at the passport agency in Sevilla told me, “Stress is good for you.” I agree, as long as it’s not all piled on at once.

Like I said, I have been back for a couple weeks now, so I felt like I had a good grasp on getting used to America. I say felt, because yesterday I went to the library. I went to a different part of the library though, a part I had never really walked by before, and on the side of one of the shelves it said, “Study Abroad.” So, obviously instead of studying for the test I had today, I started to skim the shelf. I think my biggest mistake was not looking in this section before I left. As I looked through the books,  I saw Study Abroad for Dummies. They have one of those friggin’ books for everything! So, I took that book, and one about the “25 best places to study abroad”.  As I skimmed past the checklists and course recommendations–while silently mocking people who are at that complicated stage of the process, and silently dying on the inside that none of that stuff applies to me anymore—I stumbled upon the last chapter, “Returning Home.” So, I pushed my Managerial Accounting notebook to the side once again, and dipped right into that chapter. With every word I read I was thinking, “YES! That’s exactly what I thought in the airport. I DO hate that about America now!” So, without copying and pasting the entire chapter here, I will try to get its point across. I am in a stage of “reverse-culture shock.” There are four stages, and I am in stage 3: alienation. When have you ever read the word alienation, and it be a good thing? Never! So, I slammed the book shut, tossed it aside, and pulled my Managerial Accounting notebook back in front of me. I unzipped my backpack, reached down to the bottom, and grimaced as I realized I just came all the way to the library without the book I need for the test tomorrow.

But, with a semester like I just had, who can expect to be fully adjusted to their old life so soon? It’s impossible. The things I’ve seen and learned about other cultures make me look at everything in my life a different way. For one, I want to see more. I have this huge fever (cowbell?) and I need to go places. The weird thing about it though, is that I want to see all of America. Going on the trip with a program that took people from all over the country was huge, because it opened my eyes to how different people are in the different regions. There were so many people from the west coast, which I had never really known people from before. It’s like a whole different country within a country. I may just be greedy though. I did get to spend four months in Europe. I got to go to places I have always wanted to go, like Italy. I revisited places I had already been, like Greece, for 10 days. I got to see places I probably never would have gone before, like Portugal. It never occurred to me that Portugal had anything to offer me at all. So naïve! ISA took us there for a weekend, and I was dying to go back. So I did! It was my favorite country of the trip. Most of all I got to live in Spain for four full months. I got to see almost every major city in the country. I learned so much more history than I ever thought I would, and I was actually interested. Everything anyone every told you about studying abroad is true. You become so much more culturally aware. You learn so much about others and yourself. It will be the best experience of your life. It gives you a chance to meet different people. Different in the best way too. My best friend from  the trip is the exact opposite of me. I live in the east. He lives in the west. I love the beach. He loves the mountains. I like movies. He doesn’t own a TV. My family is notorious for eating meat, with side orders of different meat. He is a vegetarian. The list goes on and on. It’s sickening the way he lives, actually. Vegetarians give me the creeps…

So, now it’s time to move on with life. What to do? Where to go? When? So many unanswered questions. So, what am I doing about this want to see new places, you ask? I’m not just all talk. Last weekend was Chicago, where I used to live, so that doesn’t really count. Next week? Boone, North Carolina. It’s not a new state, but it might as well be. My roommate Isaac lives there, and we realized how little we know about eachothers’ side of the state. I know nothing about the west, he knows nothing about the east. (Side note: it’s not just me. Isaac is in Washington state right now, he’s going to Alaska, and he’s living in Africa this summer with his family) After Boone, I have a few more days of classes before I head out to the Caribbean for a week. From there I fly straight to Chicago again to see family, and some friends from the trip. From there? Seeing as I turn 21 during the cruise to the Caribbean, I will celebrate adequately in Las Vegas. From there? Montana to visit aforementioned friend from trip, Don Juan. From there? Classes start up again. They have to eventually. I don’t know how to end this blog though. I did lapse on it for a couple weeks, but I was trying to soak up all my time in Sevilla while I could. I’m glad I did it, though. My paper journal lasted about 3 days before I gave up on it. Plus, I can’t lose this one now. Thanks for reading, and I hope it helped! Who knows though, this might not be the last blog. Maybe I’ll go abroad again. Maybe… Chile? South Africa? New Zealand? We’ll see.  I’ll keep you posted.

That’s USA for those of you that don’t read phonetically. So, I after a long, looong, trip back from Sevilla, I have finally made it back to the states. So, I’ll start with my last day in Spain. I woke up around 9, packed up my stuff, and looked around the house. Isaac and I took some time and sat out on the balcony, enjoying the last day we had in this awesome apartment. Now, by awesome I would like to clarify that the apartment was awesome. Our host-mom Marta, was anything but. So, as we slapped eachother a high-five, e talked about how we wanted to spend the last day. So, we told Marta we were going to eat out for lunch, and we met up with our friend Brandon. I feel like by now, I can post all my friend’s names in this. For references on how they look, you can click on past blog’s picture links and scan through. So Brandon, or Don Juan as we affectionately call him, met up with us to throw the frisbee a little bit, maybe get some Doner Kebab (which, if you don’t know about yet, you need to educate yourself on the topic). So, after a little bit of that, we met up with Emily. Em’s not really one for frisbee, so we took a seat and discussed how we would spend my last day in the city. The interesting part was that it was all up to me, because it was only my last day. Isaac had gone back to the house to pack up a little bit, and Don Juan and Emily’s program lasted for another week after mine, since they went to a different school. So, after a few minutes we decided on going to Maria Luisa Park. I hadn’t ever seen this, even though it is one of the most famous spots in Sevilla, because I always thought another park in town was the famous one. So, it was interesting to finally see one of the landmarks of the city before I left. I probably would have been pretty angry if I found out later.

So, after that we met up with Emily’s roommate/all around good person Jenni. The whole day was pretty rough. The four of us had spent most of the semester together, we were really close from the beginning, so we spent about an hour in a bar just staring at eachother. It was one of the most depressing sights of all time. Outsiders would cringe. From there we hit up my personal favorite part of the city: Reales Alcazares. There’s a past blog about that too, so let’s not be redundant, right? As we sat in the Alcazar, talking about leaving, the time started to run out. A huge bolt of thunder sounded, which was odd since I had only heard thunder once before in the 4 months in Sevilla. Then it started to rain. Then the cathedral’s bells - mind you this is the biggest cathedral in the world - started to go off like crazy, like I had never heard before. All of this tied together combined for the most dramatic exit of all time. the sun was behind the clouds. I felt like I was going to a hanging. Which coincidently was something I had kind of been feeling for a while before I left. The thought of leaving all of the new friends I had met was depressing, because the reality is, I’ll probably never get a chance to see most of those people again. That’s the only disadvantage of being in a grroup where the participants are so widely spread out, nationally. So, it kind of felt like I was dying, when in reality, if I really wanted to I could put in the effort to make the trip. So, that is definitely a comforting thought. The goodbyes were terrible, but that was to be expected. The bus rides/airport time/plane rides were almost as bad, but not quite.

So, from Sevilla we had to take a 6 hour bus ride to Madrid. Since the bus had to be at the airport 2 hours before the fist person’s flight, we were stuck in Madrid’s airport at 3:30 am. My flight wasn’t until 1pm. So, after hours of idly sitting on the floor, 100 games of gin rummy, and a couple minutes of sleeping face down on the floor, it was finally time to board the plane. 8 hours later, “Hello America.” It was really strange landing in America. The overall feeling between the people in the group was that it felt like Spain never actually happened. It all felt like a dream. But, it really did happen. It definitely happened. I have the scars to prove it.

DAH! Lagos was the most incredible trip of the semester. Lagos was the second Portugese city I got a chance to visit (the first is Lisbon- check past blogs). The weekend of Lagos was actually my last weekend of the semester, so pretty much everyone in the group decided it would be the best way to spend our last time together, before we were all busy with packing and exams. We tried to find the ideal situation for all of us to be able to be together for the whole weekend, and somewhere where the rules weren’t too strict. We were definitely ready to relax and have a good time. So, after a quick look on Google, we found these awesome apartments right by the beach, which were also really cheap and could fit everyone, so we jumped on that immediately. We had everything there: 6 beds, kitchen, washing machine, two bathrooms, balcony, pool, and towels, in each of the two rooms. The best part was that it only ended up being something like 8 euros a night per person, which was way less than the hostels we were looking into.

Since Spain had a national holiday on that Thursday, the buses weren’t running. So instead, we took a bus on Wednesday afternoon, which turned out to be a great decision. Going into this trip though, most people didn’t have many expectations as far as sight-seeing goes. I mean, besides the point that used to be though of as the “end of the world”, there’s really not much to do in Lagos but sit on the beach, relax, and enjoy eachother’s company. The Portugese are very, very accomodating people, and the town was perfect, so everything went so smoothly. It was such a perfect transition between Spansh and American life. Lagos is definitely one of those places you go to and think… alright, let’s just drop out of every commitment we have and live here forever. Deal? I’m in.

It’s been a while. I know.

This is just one man’s opinion, but Barcelona is the coolest spot in Spain. I can honestly say I think the best of everything can be found in Spain (except Spanish, because they speak Castillian there). We started off the trip trying to relax a little bit. The group I went with was coming in two different shifts; Brandon, Carlos, Sammy, and I came early morning. So, to kill some time I decided it was time to go to the beach. So, while the happy couple took a stroll out to the fruit market (I’ll get to that later) Carlos and I headed out to Barceloneta. The weather was perfect, the timing was perfect, and it was just really nice to go to the beach. My university in America–UNC-Wilmington–is literally 5 minutes from the shores of the Atlantic, so the beach has definitely been a huge part of my life, and the main thing I have missed over the semester. Actually, this 3 month span has been the longest I have gone without a trip to the beach in the past 10 years…

So, after the beach we got ready and met up with the other half of our group: Jenni, Emily, and Carrie. We hit a lot of the tourist attractions around the main touristy road, Las Ramblas, since our hostels were pretty much right there, and we didn’t have much time to get around the city. Las Ramblas is a major tourist area in the city. It’s filled with some amazingly creative and detailed street performers, some with costumes over 10 feet tall. The street is also lined with souvenir shops, sandwich groceries, and non-natives. It’s impossible to make your way though Barcelona without hitting Las Ramblas, not that you’d want to anyways.

Right off of Ramblas is the Boqueria, a HUGE, outdoor fresh fruit market that has hundreds of stands, lined with the most vivacious fruit you’ll ever see. It’s really a lot to take in. The colors alone are beautiful, but the closer you get to the stands, the more you appreciate what each separate vendor has to offer. There is one specific fruit at a few of the stands, I think it is called the Dragon fruit, that is such a crazy shade of pink, that my camera literally could not register it. The photos actually came up blurry because the color couldn’t be identified. The best part of the market though, were the smoothies. Oh sweet Jebus. They were like 1 euro, so I woke up a few of the mornings and walked there to pound 4 or 5 smoothies in a 2 minutes span (AKA breakfast).

The next real touristy thing we did was to check out all of the Gaudi work. Embarrassing as it is, I really had no idea who Gaudi was before this trip. Luckily, Emily had taken a class where she learned all about him, so she filled me in on what we were about to get into. For those of you that don’t know, Gaudi is this genius architect, that designed buildings in such a way that they are actually pieces of art. Essentially, this guy found a way to make designs that you would only see in a cartoon or Disney movie into real-life, tangible architecture. The buildings usually have a theme, but my favorite was the Dragon. There are a lot of pictures of it in the albums, so you can check those out there. The buildings all seemed very curvy, flowy, smooth. I think the perfect word to describe them is “fluid”. Anyways, besides the buildings, you can hang out at Gaudi Park. The park is essentially the culmination of Gaudi’s work and is right there, free for the public. We had a little problem getting there, as we stood at the bottom of this massive hill looking for the right way to go. We stood on this bridge for about 15 minutes before we finally set out up the mountain, ready to check out this park the tourism books have been raving about. After about an hour, uphill, in the heat, we decided to ask for directions. Everyone was pretty miserable, and we were all confident we should have already been there. So, we asked. Where was it? 20 feet away from the bridge we started at. Up the escalators somebody had suggested checking out before the trek commenced. Eh, accidents happen. In a nutshell, Gaudi’s works are all colorful, interesting, and inviting. Smooth, light, and bright. Adjective-enticing, photo-oppotunistic, and cool.

The last part of Barcelona, was actually the highlight for me: The Joan Miro Museum. The museum was absolutely incredible. It may be because I have a personal baise, seeing as I have studied him before, and read a lot of research about his past, but I was definitely way more into this museum than any other museum I have been to during this semester, or my life for that matter. I even thought it was way more interesting than the Prado in Madrid. Being the rebel I am, I snagged a few pictures inside the museum, so you can check those out (I didn’t use flash though; respect, people!) There are a bunch of pictures from the outside though. That was another one of the reasons I loved the museum so much. Upstairs, there is an exit, where you can see some of Miro’s works, and check out a view from the top of the city that is pretty hard to beat.

The trip went smoothly. There are a ton of cheap places to eat if you just look in the right places. Barcelona: cool. I could do a semester there for sure. Yup. For sure.

These last few weeks have been jam packed with stuff to do, so I literally have not had any free time at all. I have been trying to get these two papers done(one is officially done, one hasn’t been started) before my last trip, but it has been really hard. I have been trying to soak up all of my last days to the fullest, so I have been making the rounds on all of my favorite places in Sevilla. Reales Alcazar is my favorite place, really cool place to just sit and hang out, so I have gone a few times in the past couple weeks. I also had to rea a book in Spanish and stuff, so it’s been really busy. But anyways… on to Cordoba.

The last trip ISA had planned for us before the end of the program (May 10) was to Cordoba. Every pamphlet or picture you’ll ever see of Cordoba is the exact same… the read and white arches inside the church. Type Cordoba into google and click images, let me know what comes up. But, in all actuality that church was really cool. There’s nto really too much to say about it honestly, and that was really the only thing we did in Cordoba. We had a couple hours of free time, but it was raining, so it was kind of hard to enjoy the walk. The only other part of Cordoba I really noticed was the amount of beggars. I was probably approached by 20 different women (literally) all asking for money in all different languages. Usually in Sevilla the people that ask for money are playing an instrument, but the women in Cordoba had a different strategy: their babies. They will shove their babies right in yuor face, and you can agree it’s a cute kid, but come on. She has a baby too. And her. AND HER!

Now that Feria has come to an end, I feel like I can give an appropriate description of all the events. Seeing as how most of the tents are rented out privately, the best bet for the study-abroaders is to either mooch off of a new Spanish friend, or hope that your host-family has a tent. Although, throughout the week I spent most of my time just walking around, checking out the stuff I had seen when I looked it up online. Everyday until about 8pm, there are horses and carriages that completely line the streets. There are easily hundreds of horses, all dressed up in traditional horse garb (I guess) and are paraded through the streets of the fairgrounds. I hate horses, so I wasn’t really into the deal. When a friend and I were walking through the streets, a couple of horses bumped into each other. They started jumping around and screaming and I bolted. The last thing I want is to get kicked by a horse when I’m drunk. Overall though, the horses were really well behaved, considering how many of them there were. I was impressed.

Another cool part about Feria is the entrance. They build this giant entrance every year, and on Monday night (or Tuesday morning if you want to get technical) at midnight, they turn on all the lights that adorn it. It was pouring buckets the night of the lighting ceremony, but you could tel by the crowd of people it was probably the most significant night for the locals. It seemed to me like that was the main attraction for them, since they see the new one every year, and it is mostly the Sevillians that take part in the ceremony, since most of the out-of-towners didn’t come in until the weekend.

I didn’t really know what to expect going in, but it was half tents, and the other half was just like an American fair. They had two huge ferris wheels, other rides, stuff like that. Lot of food–I probably spent 20 euros on chocolate waffles. Drinks, which were plentiful to say the least, and little scraps of food, which were more to soak up some of the alcohol rather than fill the stomach.

Camera’s dead. Pictures next time.

I would like to extend the happiest of birthdays to my dear friend, and fellow blog-reader, Sarah Coleman. She is turning 21 on this magical day, and has been counting it down for the past 6 months. So, happy birthday Sarah! Enjoy your very first sip of alcohol. Let me know what it’s like, I know it’s been a long 21 years for you. Also, consider this your birthday present. Sucker.

Also, if any other readers would like to give her a call, her phone number is 919-211-9870.

The Feria De Sevilla is one of the most important weeks in Andalucia. The story behind it, as I read in one of the airplane magazines on my way back from Greece, is that two guys decided they wanted to celebrate their city. That was around 1850. Every year, the party was held around the same time, and over the course of almost 200 years it has become one of the biggest parties in Spain.

Feria is cool, because like with Semana Santa, we got another complete week off from school. Around this time I am kind of feeling like I haven’t really been going to school at all as it is, so to say that I needed this week off would just be greedy. Since so many people had been telling me how fun Feria was, how it was one of the best weeks of their lives, highlight of their semester… yada, yada… I decided not to plan any trips anywhere. Unfortunately, most of the other people in the group DID plan trips, so there aren’t many people left around town–ISA-wise. But, a few of my friends are still hanging around for most of the week, and a lot of the others are coming back soon, so they can catch a glimpse of what Feria has to offer.

So, as it was explained to me by other teenagers, Feria is where everyone gathers around in this specific fairgrounds, where the drinks are constantly flowing, and everyone is dancing Flamenco. That pretty much sums it up. It has actually been raining A LOT the past few days, so I haven’t really gotten the full effect of Feria, but I kind of got the jist (sp?) of it last night. It was pouring rain–easily the most rain I’ve seen since I got here–and there were still thousands of people out. The women were all completely decked out in their Flamenco dresses, huge colorful earrings, and suited-up men by their sides.

The fairgrounds are lined with striped tents, which are mostly rented out privately to businesses or families around the city. But, there are also a lot of public tents, where they sell food and drinks, and have a stage set-up for anyone interested. From there, the night doesn’t really stop. Essentially, Feria is an all-day, all-night party that lasts a week. From what Marta has told me, from Friday to Sunday, the amount of people just sky-rockets. The grounds are huge, and there are a ton of different streets to walk through, but apparently over the weekend it gets so packed you can’t even move. There are also rides, which are extremely sketchy, especially in the rain, so I haven’t tried my luck there yet. The chocolate waffles have been pretty delicious as well. Everyone from all over Spain comes by and checks out the festivities. I will add more pictures when I sum up Feria in the next blog. The camera really hasn’t come out too much, considering I have been walking through torrential downpour the past few nights.

I have gotten a lot of calls today. My sister and her best friend started to cry. My mom whipped out the party planning book from under the bed. Then started to cry. My friends called me an idiot. I’m only 20 years-old. Almost 21. So, maybe I lied a little bit. Get over it, suckers! Happy April Fool’s day. It’s always good to the last drop.

Madre, padre: gimme a call