A lot has changed in the two years since I last traveled to Spain: I graduated college with dual degrees in journalism (a fancy way of saying "writing boringly") and Spanish. I then moved to New York City for a year, where I tried to dip my feet into the job market pool to no avail (minus a paid internship through Public Agenda, a wonderful non-profit based in public policy), and probably had way too much fun as a waitress in Midtown Manhattan.
About six months ago however, probably while walking to said internship, I started thinking back on my time in Spain as a student. It was easily the best four months of my life, if I were to prioritize based on appreciation for my location and experiences. Anyway, I started to get the itch to go back; I began talking with my friend Julia, who I traveled with to Sevilla as a student, and we realized how much we wanted to find our way back to Spain. Enter the Junta de Andalusia. We applied for positions as English cultural and language assistants through Council on International Educational Exchange and the Junta - which pays a stipend of 700 euro/month, making it technically a job - and were accepted!
And so today, officially, I am back in Spain. In fact, I'm sitting in a hostel, Hotel Nuevo Suizo (located right in central Sevilla, I highly recommend it) with two days to spare before my teaching orientation begins here in Sevilla. After a two-day orientation, Julia and I will be brought to our teaching location. We were both placed in the same town, Écija, located about 80 kms east of Sevilla/50 kms west of Córdoba. I will be teaching at a primary school, CEIP Astigi, working with children between the ages of 6-12-years old.
I cannot wait. I've been milling around with the idea of going back to school to pursue a degree in Spanish education for a while, so this in effect, is a test drive to see if this is what I'm meant to do. I've grown increasingly restless since I graduated in 2008 because I feel like I don't have a clue about what I really want in life. I'm hoping this year will bring some clarity. Or if anything, I'm just excited to spend a year in Spain, to get paid to play with kids.
But enough harping, I will wrap up this first official post by visually recapping the trip back to Spain: a painstaking 24+hour ordeal that literally exerted blood, sweat and tears on my part.
Saying goodbye to my parents at JFK International - in front of a full-size HSBC ad, appropriately.
Jules and I with one year's worth of luggage in Madrid's Atocha train station, from where we would head to Sevilla. Hiding: an extra 50 lb. suitcase and my 25 lb. travel pack.
Just a quick, stream-of-consciousness anecdote here:
In order to get to Madrid's train station from the airport, you need to take the Metro system. Now, in order to do this, you have to change lines (similar to transferring from the "A" to the "1" trains in NYC) three times.
Still, not too bad, right?
It was during rush hour. People were less than accommodating.
Meh.
How about climbing the equivalent of an 10-story building's worth of stairs/escalators with eight bags of various shapes and sizes between two people.
Escalators? You had it easy.
We had to take trips one at a time with each bag. Ten times. That's 80 flights. We practically climbed the Statue of Liberty.
You said there were escalators. Relax!
Well, someone got impatient at a certain point and tried to wear her 25-lb. pack while juggling a carry-on bag and two suitcases all at once. The result? The escalator won TWICE - Jules busted the back of her foot, which turned into a bloody mess, and I now have a sprained finger, a mauled hand, welts on my left arm that appear as though Wolverine attacked me, and an even more bruised ego. Suffice to say, we were ready to get out of Madrid as fast as possible.
Hard to see the bruises here. Still, Jules says it looks hilariously gruesome in person.
My thoroughly-cleaned and sterilized left hand, with a swollen middle finger.
So after that ordeal, Jules and I were almost ready to head back on the first plane to the U.S. There were a few moments on the train to Sevilla when my mind began to wander, reverberating: 'What have you gotten yourself into?' through my head. Exhaustion turned to stress. Stress turned into tears - which I am publicly embarrassed about - and as a result, the girl next to me became increasingly uncomfortable and eventually switched to a different seat. But as we pulled into Sevilla's train station and literally hurled our luggage at awaiting cab drivers - we gave up being fiscally conservative (the only time I will use that adjective to describe myself is while I'm traveling) at that point - we finally shut up for a moment and realized that we were back. Well technically, we were back when we landed in Madrid, but it wasn't the comfort we were looking for. This was; the air had a familiar flowery-orange scent to it, the palm trees! were swaying, our cab drivers were FRIENDLY. We were definitely back "home" in southern Spain. Eventually we arrived at our hostel, checked in and went for a stroll through the streets of Sevilla once again, taking the time to be grateful instead of grumpy.
The artwork I love in our hostel.
Calle General Polavieja, Sevilla (between Tetuan and Sierpes)
Outside Plaza de San Francisco, in front of the Banco de Sevilla, where they've constructed tarps since we last visited.
The next day we went back to our favorite spot on the river Guadalquivir, and enjoyed the three things we missed the most from Spain: tinto veranos, Principes and corn nuts. Judge us if you must.
Another view of the rio. I don't know why the text is underlined, and Blogger won't get rid of it. I'm sorry.
Completely unrelated to this post, but try to guess which major corporate chain Sevilla is trying to knock off with this one? I do not remember this from two years ago, but I think it's brilliant, haha.
And so, I end this post exactly the way my J professors told me to never end a story - in summation. I am so desperately excited to get to my city and school, and most importantly, the kids. This is going to be the next chapter in my life, which will hopefully clear my head of a lot of things, and bring me closer down my life path <-- I really don't like the cliche, but I feel it's appropriate right now. I miss and love so many people from home, but right now I am ready for this next step. So stay tuned.
And who knows, maybe by the next post I will have learned how to properly edit this blog. Most likely not, though.
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