Skip to main content

Hell O Paradise

So it’s week 5 in Barcelona and I’m just now posting my second blog, yes, but in my defense it’s been busier than I imagined. Furthermore, I have been keeping a journal which I’ll be pulling from throughout this post. It’s something I’ve added to the list of things I’m learning abroad (aside from Spanish). Things like how to be responsible for myself and my friends, the importance of conserving toilet paper, what the daily Euro conversion rate is, and how quickly vegetables go bad when you buy them yourself.
Culturally, Barcelona is more relaxed than most places in the United States, at least about school and drinking and nudity. But if traveling away 6,784 kilometers from home for six weeks has taught me anything, it’s that I’ve taken Midwestern values for granted all of my life. I miss my friends, my dog, my guitar, and my couch, but I miss trusting my neighbors and my fellow strangers more. Also ranch dressing. I miss ranch the most. Living in a big city, cynicism and snark should be expected, but not speaking the language here has prevented me from being able to quickly apologize to the woman who’s chancla I clipped getting off of the train, and defend myself from the catcalling creeps all over Barcelona.
This past weekend some friends and I traveled to a beach town north of here called Blanes. Attached is a picture of one of the beautiful openings where rock and cove meets the water of the sea. Every day I’m greeted with new versions of gorgeous European paradises. And while I soak up every new Spanish word I learn and work of art I behold, I have found myself longing to soak up a Michigan summer rain and the smell of home.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *