my street! maria auxiliadora

javier and the women who love him

plaza gabriel y galan

super 24

one of the many pieces of bread i would come to hide in my sock drawer over the course of the semester (sorry madre). 

The Final Days

After a very unproductive, pitiful weekend (or should I say Sunday) of writing my final papers and studying, I was more than happy to be greeted with equally pitifully easy exams. I had one of the most “de puta madre” exam schedules of any one else in the group too: Monday, Cuento at 11 and Spanish Civ. at 5 and Tuesday: Intro. to Lit. at 4. This gave me plenty of time to enjoy my final days in Spain at my own leisure, which is exactly how I’ve grown accustomed to spending the majority of my time here anyways.

Directly following our cuento exam, Colleen and I decided to end our time in Spain with one final spontaneous and wild decision: getting our noses pierced. Although we knew our parents would likely not be thrilled, the piercings actually look pretty GUAY! Monday night meant Beer Pong Tournament at the Irish Rover. Colleen, Alex, and I made our last visit to Erasmus (one of my favorite bars) before joining the group at Irish. I’m also pleased to announce that Thomas and Danny represented JMU well that night winning second place in the tournament!

Tuesday night, the majority of the JMU group met at Daniel’s, another favorite bar of ours for it’s good music, cheap beer, and genuine Spanish crowd. This is where Alex, Colleen, and I met up with Natalio, Cesar, and Edu. The night continued at Biblioteca, which literally means “library” and is decorated with bookshelves and where whether or not you have to pay for your drink is up to the bartender's coin toss. After we studied at the library, we headed on over for dancing at Kandavia. By the end of the night, we had weeded out the weaker ones, and the champions (Edu, Cesar, and myself of course) finished off the wee morning hours at an authentic Spanish grunge bar I’d never been to before. After belting out our fair share of “Colgando en tus Manos” and “Tenia Tanto que Darte,” we decided to call it a night. Cesar gave me his jacket and these gentlemen insisted on walking me all the way home at 7am. It didn’t seem to matter to them that they lived about a good 30 minute walk from my apartment; they weren’t about the let “a beautiful girl walk home alone at night with so many creepies.” I’m going to miss these guys so much. A good end to my last late night Spanish fiesta-ing shenanigans.

Wednesday, Alex and I said goodbye to our beloved Calle Toro the best way we knew how…by buying dresses from Bershka. In these last days, I felt this strange wave of stress (a truly foreign feeling for me in Spain), suddenly panicked that I hadn’t bought any souvenirs or taken enough pictures of my city. In fact, until now I had steered clear of touristy shops altogether, immediately picking out the FOREIGNERS taking pictures of the Plaza Mayor and such, and feeling sick seeing North Faces and flip-flopped Americans speaking English. Even just 3 and a half months of living in Sal made me somehow identify myself as a permanent resident instead of the foreigner I was. Somehow I saw myself as different from these tourists. The tearful goodbyes began as I made my last visit to Super 24 Horas, my haven of cheap wine and chocolate.

The goodbyes continued Wednesday night when Andrea, Alex, Colleen, Leah, Emily, Tori, Will, Danny, Kristina, Natalio, Edu, and I met at Birdland (jazz bar near my apartment, which has the added grace of the always-potent aroma of pot). We left Birdland and headed to Country (a Gaudi-themed bar with tile mosaic walls). We finished off the evening at Leonardo’s to satisfy all cravings for “twenty nugs” and hamburgers with fried eggs. Our final goodbye to Nat and Edu could not have been more appropriate, if not a little cheesy. Colleen, Alex, and our Spanish men spontaneously initiated a group hug and a resounding version of Tim McGraw’s song,“I like it, I love it, I want some more of it,” which we taught them on one of our first meetings. Except that Edu is still convinced the lyrics are, “I like it, I love it, I want some more HOV it!” We’ve just never had the heart to correct him. Besides, we like his version better anyways.

Thursday I started off the day at Rosa’s (Kristina and Angela’s madre) salon to get some inexpensive Spanish highlights. Racing back afterwards, I made it just in time for our end of the semester party with the JMU students and our Spanish professors. I guess JMU abandoned their rule of not buying us alcohol because we all enjoyed an unlimited bar of red and white wine. We picked at finger foods, sipped on wine, chatted, and enjoyed the beautiful Fonseca courtyard setting despite the overcast weather. Although I got to see Javier (beautiful Intensivo teacher) one last time, I was devastated at the lack of appearance by Jacobo (beautiful Lit. teacher) or Francisco (beautiful Independent Study professor), who Alex and I affectionately call “Frankie.” They all had my heart at “Hola.”

We left (the least full we've EVER felt after a siesta lunch) and Colleen and I made our last frantic attempts at souvenir shopping with our veryyy limited cash supply. After a final visit at the JMU office, I made my way to Café del Arte for the last time. This time, I had no money to buy anything, didn’t need to check my email, only wanting to say goodbye. As soon as I walked in, I spotted my bartender and he lit up as usual and asked me what I wanted to drink. When I explained that I just wanted to say goodbye, he wouldn’t have any of it and insisted on giving me my last café con leche on the house. I thought the water works were going to start there, but thankfully they didn’t. I sat at the bar while he multi-tasked, serving others and asking me about my travels. When it was finally time to say goodbye, he raced around the other side of the bar to give me a hug, the double kiss, and pose for a picture, haha. He made me promise I’d come back in for a drink the next time I’m in Spain. That made saying goodbye a little easier, knowing that I will absolutely be back one day…as soon as I have adequate vacation time and some money to my name.

I returned home to find a wrapped present on my bed from madre. Oh no she didn’t! That crazy woman! She had given Allison and I each a beautiful wooden jewelry box, having been inspired by the horrifying display of how we had been storing our jewelry all semester: spralled out on our dressers. I raced out and bought her some baby sunflowers at the Chino Store with the last few coins I had. She accepted them with the same reaction I had given her over the jewelry box…you are crazy for doing this. My gift to her, however, was significantly smaller as always.

Now to begin the PACKING NIGHTMARE. I rolled everything and prayed to GOD my bags wouldn’t be overweight. The fact that I could barely lift them from the floor to my bed wasn’t exactly a great sign. I can't imagine what the situation would have been like had I not sent a suitcase home with my mom after spring break! I spent the rest of the evening taking pictures of the apartment, “our family,” watching my last episode of “Pasa Palabra,” and chatting it up with my girl, Asencion.

We met everyone in the Plaza Mayor at 11:30 that night for the last time and thought it only appropriate to end our semester abroad exactly the way it began…at Atahualpa. Everything had come full circle now and it was time to go home. Walking home around 2:30, I cried like a baby the entire way through the Plaza and down Calle Toro. I didn’t even care about the groups of Spaniards passing me on all sides, I was inconsolable.

After a 2-hour nap, I woke up again to get my things together and meet at the corner for Tres P. I showered, tried out the bidet (I have nothing else to say about this except that it was something I felt I had to do before leaving Europe), dressed, and ate my last breakfast in madre's kitchen. Asencion woke up and stood guard with our bags as we loaded all our things down into the lobby. She wouldn’t let us leave until about 2 minutes before our pick-up time (5:40am) on account of the drunk people coming home and the cold air. What a madre.

Crying once again as I said goodbye to Isabel and Asencion, I forfeited my keys and slipped madre a large heart-shaped letter I had written her the night before. She told me to stop crying so I wouldn’t make her cry too. She sent us off making us promise to work hard, make lots of money, and come back soon. Not surprisingly, Luis was not awake to say goodbye to us.

I boarded the bus like a wreckless, swollen, red-faced, PMS-ing, estrogen-packed woman. Every time I would calm down, someone else would start crying and set me off again. They came in constant waves. When the bus got to Alex’s and Colleen’s street, I saw Escoli (their madre…and my madre’s neice) from outside the bus window. She waved to me and I ran out, buried my head in her very tight hug and couldn’t control the tears. I tried talking but my broken Spanish only came out in ridiculous shakes and cracks in my voice. This entire morning was like an extended out-of-body experience. When was the last time I had cried this much??! I couldn’t remember.

Three hours later we were at the airport. I checked in with about 12 others on my same flight. I was literally shaking as they lady weighed my bags (4 kilos over the limit), which she ended up not charging me for. Thank GOD! 

Now I'm home and feel like half a person. I was welcomed at the airport by a few of my biggest fans: Dad, Mom, and Boomer. Dinner of pasta, REAL AMERICAN SALAD and Sombra Spanish red wine, balloons in my clean room, a full tank of gas in a serviced, spotless car, and a lavender bubble bath all made coming home not so bad after all :)