Home Again

Almost one year after I said goodbye to the United States, I boarded a 13 hour plane bound for the Los Angeles International Airport. On tiny screens in the middle of the aisles, the Iberia flight showed The Great Gatsby. While I like the book, I'm not a particular fan of the movie—too much flash and not enough substance—but nevertheless the film's final words (taken verbatim from the novel) echoed in my head.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter — tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning —
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

It's one of my favorite concluding paragraphs in literature, one that particularly resonates with me. I am unfortunately a nostalgic person. I have the tendency to reminisce and to miss bygone years, while letting my present pass me by. I've spent the past year in Spain, working at a decent job, involved in a good relationship, and occasionally traveling. Yet, I can't resist comparing to my final years of college, where I still lived close to my friends and we saw each other every weekend.

Moving on is part of adulthood. People change cities, get married, have kids (or don't). Some get great jobs and some still live with their parents. Before graduation, we had our lives more or less laid out in similar trajectories, taking classes and studying for exams. After graduation, some people (myself included) moved back home. Some started working. Some continued to grad school. Some changed states. I changed countries. It's normal. It's what happens. But I have still had trouble accepting that it's time for a new phase.

Anyway, I've spent several paragraphs waxing philosophical about The Great Gatsby while failing to address the whole point of this post: my trip home. For the first two weeks of September, I flew back to the good ol' US of A. My first year in Spain was admittedly a bit lonely. I spent many weekends sitting in my apartment, playing the Sims or refreshing Facebook for the 1,000^th time. I missed living down the street from my friends, where every weekend we would hang out together and play video games. I had been away from California for a year, and I was looking forward to reconnecting with everyone.

I came home expecting to be embraced by the familiarity of my home country, and I was surprised to experience reverse culture shock. Flying into Los Angeles, I was overwhelmed by the immense concrete sprawl. I wandered through my grocery store and marveled at the jumbo tub of nacho cheese. Was everything always this big?

I also had to face the more sobering reality that my friends were no longer available to hang out, either due to distance, responsibilities, lack of interest, or some combination. I suppose I had anticipated that people would be more eager to see me stateside. Instead, my phone remained silent for my duration home (unless you count the “wrong number” who told me they loved me. Thanks, dude).

That isn't to say that I had a bad time. At the very least I was able to spend lots of time with my family during those two weeks. With my dad, I went on a 7-mile hike and a few 19-mile bike rides. With my mom, I went shopping (I really missed Target of all places). We went to the beach and out to dinner. I spent my afternoons relaxing on the couch or playing with my cats.

In many ways, the trip home served as a reminder that my life is forming here in Spain now. I didn't realize that until I went home and felt foreign. I will always miss the states. My family is there, and there are customs I'm not willing to let go of (holidays, food, etc). But now it's time to let go of the past and focus on my life here.

My Parents' Visit

In keeping with tradition of posting one month late, I am finally getting around to writing about my parents' trip to Spain. They left the 5th, and it has been 21 days of radio silence on my part. What's my excuse? Did I get sick again? Nope. Super busy? Nuh-uh. In fact, in June work ends a full 2-3 hours earlier and I haven't had any private classes in the afternoon. I've had more free time than ever! I haven't got a single excuse, save my own laziness. However, I'm leaving for summer camp in less than one week, which means no internet and no blogging. With this time limit, I'm suddenly motivated into blogging again. Ever the procrastinator.

I'll skip the nitty-gritty details, since writing about a two-week visit would take too long. After a month-long haitus I'm not exactly in blogging form.

First, the low points:
Every travel story has its rough moments. My parents had excellent luck right out the gate, as they opted to take the train to the airport and skip Los Angeles' famed rush hour traffic. To reward them for their forethought, the train decided to arrive 2 hours late. Two. Hours. In comparison, a 15 minute delay in Madrid means that the metro workers are on strike. Thankfully, they caught their plane on time and we had a glorious reunion at the airport. In retrospect, there was only one hiccup in regards to transport. A big hiccup, but manageable nonetheless.

Unfortunately, none of us were in stellar health during the trip. My dad still has some lingering [and unresolved] issues, which meant that we had to take things slowly and frequently stop to rest. In addition, I'd had a lingering cough since the beginning of May, which suddenly worsened just after my parents' arrival. My mom gave me some antibiotics, since Spanish doctors are impossible (open one hour a day and your "office" is in your living room? OK). At one point I almost passed out/threw up in the metro, which was a fun experience. Thank you, random Cercanias worker who bought me a soda. So, I missed out on some valuable time with my mom and dad because I was too dizzy to stand. By the way, cough is resolved and I rescind my judgements on Spanish health care. It isn't all useless old dudes who operate out of their apartment.

Now, to the good stuff:
So much good stuff! First we had good weather for almost the entire trip. It was cold and rainy both the week before and the week after they left, but warm and sunny during their stay. Second, I highly  recommend Hostal Gonzalo. The owner upgraded their hotel room to an apartment so that they'd be more comfortable during their stay. So, my parents got to live the European apartment life with a kitchen, living room, and a balcony. Talk about good customer service.

During the trip planning stages, I was the typical over-eager daughter who wanted to recreate a year's worth of exeriences in 13 days. It was their first trip to Europe and  I wanted them to see EVERYTHING. I think, considering that I was still working Monday-Thursday during their stay, we managed to see quite a bit.

The Itinerary:
May 23: Arrival in Spain. Showed my parents the main sights (Sol, Plaza Mayor, etc). Ate chocolate con churros.
May 24: More walking around and looking at things. I've been in Spain for almost a year and I'd never gone into Templo de Debod, despite the free entrance, so we did that. We experienced a menu del dia (3 course price-fixed menu) at El Lacon.

No, you can't high-five Don Quijote

May 25: Day trip to Córdoba via the high-speed AVE train.

May 26: My parents met Álvaro's parents for the first time, and we went to Toledo.Neither had a good grasp of the other's language, so I was the translator. All things considered it went well.

May 27: Back to work. I tried going to the doctor, which was open for only one hour. I arrived 3 minutes after it opened, and his living room already had about 10 people waiting. NOPE.
May 28: Parents went to the Thyseen museum and the Royal Palace. I went to work. We met up in the afternoon for pizza and watched TV.
May 29: Parents went to the Prado. I went to the Prado with my students. Later, I almost fainted in the metro. I didn't see my mom and dad that afternoon.
May 30: Was still feeling dizzy, so I went to urgencias (urgent care) and was given some medicine for my cough. Rested, and that afternoon we went to Café Central for dinner and live jazz.

May 31: An easy day. Walked around the Retiro park. In the evening we met up with Álvaro's family (including his aunt and uncle) for some tapas and Asturian-style cider.

June 1: Day trip to Barcelona. We woke up at 5 A.M. to catch the train and we back in Madrid by midnight. We spent the morning in the Sagrada Familia. My dad wasn't feeling well, so we caught a hop-on/hop-off tour bus and rode around. Having already been to Barcelona twice, I was content to go along for the ride.

June 2: Met up with Álvaro's family again for a trip to La Granja and Segovia. We were treated by his aunt and uncle to cochinillo (roast suckling pig) and judiones (giant white bean stew). In the spring, La Granja turns on its fountains to the public. We drove to Segovia and saw the aqueduct and alcazár.

June 3: I went to work, and hung out with my parents in the afternoon. My mom and I walked around Spain and picked up a few souvenirs.
June 4: Ate lunch at Café Central and enjoyed the terrace views and warm air. Álvaro's parents stopped by to say goodbye to my parents, and Santi (Álvaro's dad) let my dad ride his scooter around the block.

June 5: I accompanied my parents to the airport and we said our goodbyes. They had an uneventful return trip.

Overall, I was glad to have shown them a bit of my adopted country. Our families met and in spite of the language barrier everyone got along swimmingly. I think their trip helped bridge the gap caused by the sheer physical distance between California and Spain. They've seen the home I'm starting to build here, and the wonderful people I'm surrounded by. I've gone from the girl who couldn't do her own laundry to the girl who is living in a foreign country and speaking a different language. I think, having seen the life I've been leading here (albeit in my little dollhouse of an apartment), my parents can more readily accept their eldest daughter living abroad.

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming

I've been trying to find a way to explain my last blog entry, while maintaining some privacy. I haven't even really spoken about it to anyone other than family, but here it is splashed on the Internet. Sometimes I forget that this thing is public, and that anyone can read it. Or, more accurately, I just assume that only a small handful of people have weasled their way to this corner of the internet.

Last Sunday (before my previous blog post) I received some bad news. Actually, bad news doesn't begin to describe it. I thought my dad was dying. As you can imagine, I reacted as well as any 24 year old would in the situation. I was overwhelmed. I still have trouble putting into words exactly how I felt. After waiting a year and a half to return to Spain, do I abandon my job and my future with Álvaro? Or do I miss out on what could potentially be the last moments with my dad?

Thankfully, it looks like it may have been a false alarm. The moral of the story: don't self-diagnose, even if you have previous medical experience. I'm just glad my dad isn't about to become the next Walter White.

Exhibit A: "Heisenberg"

Exhibit B: My dad

Provided that all goes well, I should be returning to Spain the following year. Back to normal.

The Bright Side

Always look on the bright side of life

I've been in a funk. Don't get me wrong, I am still enjoying my time in Spain, but I find myself grumbling about work, about the weather, about the slightest inconvenciences (You mean I have to work a full four days instead of three? Ugh). I think this six-month winter is the culprit. I enjoy the cold and the change in temperature, but it's been gloomy since October. It rained constantly during the month of March, and I'm ready for sunny skies. This time two years ago I was sporting light sweaters and spending my free time in the park. Now, I'm still bundled under layers of wool while I look out my window and the ceaseless downpour. Maybe I should build an ark.

Whoops, there I go complaining in a post that supposed to be positive. Lately, I've been trying to combat my sour mood by reminding myself that good things are coming.

The Weather
I've admittedly become obsessed with the weather forecast as of late. I'm constantly hunting for the promise of sunny skies. I am ready for spring. Spain is a different country when the weather warms up. The winter hibernation ends. People flock to terraces to drink beer in the warm afternoon. Parks are filled with bikes, children playing, picnics, and overly-affectionate couples. I look around and everything is turning green. Flowers are blooming in the overgrown grass. I am finally starting to shed my winter coat, and this weekend promises sunshine and warm air. When the weather is nice, I can stroll around the city without worrying about ducking into some bar for shelter. Not to mention, my tiny apartment has a disproportionatly large terrace which is ideal for hanging out and enjoying a glass of wine. Fellow auxiliares, be prepared for an invite.

More of this, please

Travel

Ok, so I haven't actually got any big trips planned, and with the rising airline prices and lack of summer employment, it looks like I won't be going very far this year. BUT, I do have some pending trips up my sleeve. Álvaro and I bought a Groupon for a hotel and wine-tasting in La Rioja (Spain's "wine country"), and all that's left is to book the hotel. I'm really looking forward to exploring more of this country.

Also, in June I'll be making a second trip to Barcelona. After such a good experience with the high-speed trains, I realized that a day trip was actually possible. So, with my parents, we'll have a good twelve hours to explore the most interesting parts of the city. No luggage, no hotels. Just hop on the train and back.Which brings me to my next point....

My parents are visiting!!!!

Frankly, this subject could use some more exclamation points. I've actually been sitting on this piece of news since January. They'll be staying for two weeks, arrving in late May when the weather should be at its best (there I go with the weather again). Unfortunately, I'll still have to work but we'll have the afternoons and three-day weekends to spend together. My parents have never been to Europe, so I'm particularly proud that I've given them the excuse to come abroad. I can't wait to show them around. Also, they'll get to meet Álvaro's parents, which should be interesting, given that they don't speak Spanish (and his parents don't speak much English). Still, I haven't seen them since early September and I couldn't be happier.