Coming Home

I can hardly believe it; I'm home.  After 3,400 miles, three airports, and 30 hours of traveling, I have arrived.

Surprisingly, I'm not upset, and I have not yet cried.  Believe me, I tried; standing in the Plaza Mayor for the last time, I waited for the tears. Saying goodbye outside of Paniagua to all these friends I have made, I thought maybe that would be the moment.  But nothing.  Walking home for the last time past the duck pond and under the bridge, then leaving my apartment and thanking my host mom, that didn't do it either.  But as I knelt in the backseat of our coachbus alongside Mark and Somer (who have also been here for the year), and as we looked out the window as the lights of Salamanca faded in the distance, we started laughing.

I may not ever be back in this city again, with all these amazing friends, as a 20-something-year old with nothing to lose, and I am ending this HUGE chapter in my life. This thing called Responsibility waits for me in the near future, so I have ever reason to be scared and upset and sad.  Life is moving on, and I should be sad, right?  But I'm not. I am ready.  Change is happening, and I am incredibly excited.  And I think I am ready.

Words cannot describe how nice it was to sleep in my own bed last night, to wake up at home and see my mom, and to drink a glass of fresh milk with breakfast.  IT IS OVER.  My 8 months abroad, this grand adventure, has brought me back to where it all started.  HOME.  As I drove through the Vermont countryside today, Salamanca felt like a thousand worlds away, and it's so strange that life there will go on without me.   Last week, my friend Mark learned an expression from his host mom, "pero en la vida siempre hay que pasar la pagina," meaning that in life, we always have to turn the page. 

gracias por todo!

I started writing this letter in mid March, when a wave of kids were leaving Salamanca. Premature, yes, but I want to say this the best way I possibly can. I want to articulate this perfectly. As one of my final posts, this may be the most important post I write, at least for me. It is the most sincere thank you to everybody who has helped me accomplish my year abroad.  I am not being over-dramatic when I say that this year has changed my life.


As I write this, I am sitting at the end of my bed looking at my suitcase, zipped up and packed to the brim.  My pictures have been taken off the walls, and my shelf is clear of my books, lotions, and journals.  I have printed off my itinerary and I leave Spain in less than 48 hours.  This is unreal, but it's happening.  So here it goes: Thank you to all the people that have made this the most unforgettable adventure of my life.

Thank you Mom and Dad for believing in me and supporting me. You never once told me I should come back home, but told me the doors were always open if I chose to leave. The decision was mine, and no matter what I did, that would be okay. You never let me get too down on myself when I was frustrated and homesick, but you listened anyway.

Thank you to all the people that came to visit me; Dad, Melissa, Mom, Caleb, Grammy, Carrie, Sarah, Lauren; I am so glad I got to show you all my home, and it meant so much that you would come all this way.  

Thank you to ISA and DU for the constant support and unwavering presence.  Thank you to my host family for feeding me and housing me and putting up with my broken Spanish.

Thank you to all the friends I have made here in Salamanca. Whether were friends for a couple weeks or 9 months, ALL OF YOU shaped my experience. Each of you taught me something, whether I realize it or not.

Thank you to all the friends who hosted me when I traveled to Italy, Germany, Sweden, Norway and beyond. Meeting you and your families and families was an unforgettable experience.  Know that you always have a place to visit wherever I am living!

Thank you to the lady from Madrid-Barajas airport who found my iPod and contacted me to give it back. Thank you to the intercambios I have met who have helped teach me Spanish. Thank you to the girl who drew my portrait on a train between Florence and Venice for changing how I think about people. Thank you to the people who read my blog and then emailed me and told me that I shouldn’t be scared, and that I could do it and not to be afraid.  If you’re reading this and I’ve never met you, thanks for tuning in. It has been awesome connecting with people all over the world through blogging.  

Thank you to all the friends who listened to me when I was sad and scared and upset and over-emotional and not sure what to do. Some of you cried alongside me while we went to get churros or kebobs, and others simply listened. 

To my ISA year-long friends: WE DID IT. We made it 9 months in this place. Not only did we make it, but we somehow managed to fall in love with this city. You guys are truly the greatest friends, and I’m not sure what Salamanca would be like without you. Look at us: we survived a year in Salamanca, Spain!

I believe in fate. I believe that things happen for a reason. We control what we do, where we go, and how we handle ourselves in the situations we face. But have no control over the people we meet and the circumstances we are put in; we only have control over how we deal with it. I still don’t know where I will be a year from now, or what will happen in my life, but I do know that I am so very lucky to have had this experience. I have no doubt that from living here and traveling, I will have the confidence and knowledge to go forward and follow my dreams.

And I cannot wait to see what's next!


ps: I'm in the process of making a short documentary film about study abroad, should be up in the next couple weeks!

la ultima semana

Enjoying warm, summer-like evenings in the Plaza mayor

Finally, the rain stopped, the temperatures rose, and Salamanca came back to life.  This past weekend, my last weekend in Salamanca, was unforgettable.  Outside each afternoon enjoying the warmth and presence of the crowds, I never wanted it to end.  Despite the annoying book fair that has been set up in the middle of the Plaza, taking away from the beauty of the open space, the concerts and small festivals that were put on over the weekend were surprisingly fun to stop and listen to.

"I should be studying" was my motto all weekend...but no regrets, because I have confidence things will be okay.  When push comes to shove, I can study. Vale, vale.

I have LESS THAN A WEEK (dios mio estoy!) to enjoy Salamanca and to wrap things up. There is a tour I want to take, a couple photographs I want to make, a couple interviews to finish, and goodbyes to be said.  Then it's off to Vermont, the homeland. Which I am getting QUITE excited for!  The feelings of missing Salamanca, my friends, etc. I think will be pushed out of mind for a while as I readjust and move forward.  Or at least I hope so.

On a side note: Currently, I am working on a short documentary film about students reflections on study abroad and living in Salamanca.  After I am finished with finals and packing, I hope to finish it and publish it here, to share with everyone about why this experience is so awesome *(not just according to me).

PS: Happy Mother's Day momma guz!

if you are reading this...

If you are reading this, chances are you’re interested in studying abroad.  I am not here to preach why study abroad is ‘life changing,’ to convince you why it is ‘totally awesome,’ and to explain how much fun I had living abroad.  Chances are, if you’re reading this, we already have enough in common: we are seeking adventure, and we like to push the limits.   This year, I am studying abroad for two semesters in Salamanca, Spain.  It has been the best decision I have ever made, and the hardest choice I could have made. I will start by saying: it has not always the fantasy I thought it would be...

click here to read the rest of an essay I wrote for DU's study abroad blog about my decision making process to stay abroad for a year.

the farewell dinner

I'm a just a few finals, a couple suitcases needed to be packed, a whole bunch of goodbyes, and a final bus ride to Madrid from ending this chapter in my life.  The Time Has Come, my friends, the time has come.  And I cannot believe it. I cannot believe that I only have one more Saturday night out with my friends,  one last Sunday afternoon to be spent by the river, and (finally!) one more 9 am Monday morning class. It is only hitting me now that when Jen's boyfriend comes to visit in 2 and a half weeks from Scotland, I'll be long gone. This place will all just be un sueño, a dream.  That life will go on in Salamanca without me...how strange  !

Last night was the "Farewell Dinner" with ISA, the program I came here with.  We ate in a nice restaurant where Spanish food was served, and where I proceeded to eat way too many croquetas as I thought about how time is running out.  I left feeling uneasy and apprehensive, not wanting to deal yet with the transition of going back home.  But as I walked around with my friend Somer, who has also been here for the year, I realized that, perhaps: my time has come.

We have seen so many students and friends come and go. We have made so many friends and said many goodbyes.  And we realized this: Salamanca is the first of many places we will fall in love with and call home.  I know there is no way I could possibly stay here forever, and it will always, always be hard to say goodbye.  But we will always have the memories and the friendships.  So this weekend, I am going to focus on living in the moment, enjoying mis "ultimas dias" here in España, and taking none of it for granted.

I am off to study for finals (ugh!), wish me luck!

the place where I intend on spending my weekend, el rio 

The Old Man and the Apartment

6 months ago I had incredible anxiety about deciding to stay in Salamanca for the year.  Now, with a little over a week to go before I depart, I am incredibly anxious to go back home.

Sometimes I wonder: what will it feel like to be back in Vermont, to drive down the highway, listening to my ipod, hearing songs that remind me of Spain?  Will I be sad because it is behind me, or happy for the memories?   Okay, obviously I am beyond excited to see my family again. I mean, we haven't been together in Vermont since June of last year!  What I am most excited for:

1. To eat a meal together as a family. And to drink fresh milk
2. To sleep in my own bed, in my own room
3. To walk my dog and see my neighborhood again
4. To get a whole wheat bagel with cream cheese from the Bagel Market. YUM.
5. To drive in the Vermont countryside

But is is moments like THIS that I am going to miss, that I hope I never forget:

Dusk is settling as I walk home for dinner.  Though I have only been in Salamanca for a few weeks, it already feels as though I know this city well.  I have walked around the pond with the ducks, past the apartment complex with the old Franco symbols, and after the next corner and beyond the bridge is the entrance to my flat.  As I pass the bus stop, a flicker from above catches my eye.  I look up to see warm, golden light spilling out of a second story apartment window, illuminating the chilly October sky.  

Walking closer, I can see that decorations cover the interior walls.  "That's strange," I think, because my Spanish family keeps their walls white and stark, making for a very clean, very organized apartment.  Because that is all I know, I figured all Spanish homes were the same; predictably bare and boring.   From what I can see, old maps, certificates, paintings of landscapes, old portraits, and war metals clutter these walls. I can just barely make out a bookshelf and a fireplace against the opposite wall. But what grabs my attention is the outline of a man, sitting by the window in an armchair.  Is he listening to music, reading a book, having a conversation with somebody sitting across from him? I will never know, because it is just far enough away and so far up that I can only see the decorated walls and the outline of the chair.

I pause only briefly, because I need to hurry home for dinner, and it is getting chilly outside! Walking home, I would like to think that he must be an interesting old man with quite a story to tell.  With all that artwork and so many books, how could he be boring?  I have since walked down this sidewalk many times, and when I remember, I like to look up and find that 2nd floor window.  When the window is illuminated and when he is sitting there, it gives me a sense of peace and comfort.  I have left to travel,  I have gotten lost in so many cities, I have had adventures, I have met so many people, and I have had so much fun.  But whenever I return, I can always find him there, sitting, waiting, watching the world go by, and that makes me feel at home again.  That the simple things never change, that is when Salamanca felt like home.  

I will leave soon and say goodbye to this city, until, possibly...forever.  I'll go home, return to school and begin another chapter in my life.  He will never know who I was; I am just another person outside the window.  Yet when I recall memories of this place I have called home, I will always remember the old man in the apartment.

makin' lists

In part of my saying goodbye process to Spain, I have compiled a couple of lists! They definitely contradict each other, but that's kind of what makes this experience so frustrating, amazing, and unforgettable.

50 things I will NOT be missing about Spain

1. Lettuce + oil + salt = a salad
2. Really slow people you can't pass on the sidewalk
3. 90% of stores closing between 2-5 pm
4. Bad reggaeton music
5. Over-aggressive Spanish men
6. Lack of costumer service, everywhere
7. Sharing a really tiny yellow room
8. Not having any privacy in my homestay
9. Boiled vegetables
10. Expensive peanut butter that tastes bad
11. Super boring classes
12. Ham, for dinner, always
13. Dinky Spanish phone
14. Running out of credit on my phone
15. Language barrier 
16. Feeling clueless
17. Creepy policemen
18. Spanish women
19. Converters for appliances
20. Conversion of dollar to euro
21. Ryanair staff
22. Really easy classes (did I already say that?)
23. My bed
24. Rita (my host-dog. Ugh)
25. Dog poop on sidewalks
26. Smoking cigarettes 
27. Being unemployed
28. Having to walk everywhere
29. Lunch at 3pm
30. Dinner at 9pm
31. Military time
32. 6 hour time difference between me and home
33. Feeling disconnected
34. Bad Mexican food 
35. The bugs on the bathroom floor in the wee hours of the morning
36.  Breakfast cookies
37.  Mini muffs
38.  The begging gypsies outside of Carrefour
39.  Dryers that do not exist
40.  Laundry machines in kitchens
41.  Men dressed as clowns with their faces popping out of a stroller, who squeal "guaapaaaa" when girls walk by
42.  Tile floors instead of carpet
43.  Bland, flavorless food
44.  Expensive deodorant  
45.  Hard white bread at mealtimes 
46.  Boxed milk
47.  San Boal
48.  Streaming TV shows online
49. My loud neighbors
50. The view out my bedroom window

100 things I will miss about Spain & Salamanca

1. 2 besos on the cheek to say hello
2. Jamon iberico (the good kind) 
3. The ability to walk everywhere 
4. Hearing little kids speak Spanish 
5. The Plaza Mayor 
6. Siesta time 
7. That leaving a tip is optional 
8. Train rides through the Spanish countryside 
9. Real Madrid vs Barcelona futbol games 
10. Don Simon 
11. That park by the library where I watch the sunset 
12. Boys in purple colored pants 
13. Shoe stores everywhere 
14. Zara 
15. Churros con chocolate at Valor 
16. The Duque 
17. Seeing the sunrise after staying out all night 
18. Overcoming a language barrier 
19. Learning new words 
20. Intercambios 
21. Old people hanging out all day in parks 
22. The rock I found that overlooks the river, where I go to think 
23. Old men on benches 
24. Pinzones 
25. Fancy Fridays 
26. Cobblestone streets 
27. The street cleaners 
28. Sitting in the middle of the Plaza Mayor to watch people 
29. Pandas 
30. Litros at Paniagua 
31. The euro (it's like Monopoly money) 
32. Old women in wool coats 
33. Art in the Prado 
34. Writing this blog 
35. Jamon flavored chips 
36. My friends (duh) 
37. Days by the river 
38. The Puente Romano 
39. 800 year old churches 
40. Tapas 
41. Simplicity 
42. The "No pasa nada" mentality 
43. My host dad, Felix 
44. The storks that live in the bell towers 
45. Las Conchas, my library 
46. The man who plays his violin while his old, beautiful dog is curled up at his feet 
47. Sounds of church bells 
48. A warm jamon y queso empanada for 1.10 euro, from La Taberna de La Abuela before my 1:30 class 
49. Blanco 
50. La Chupiteria 
51. Sonia, my mujeres profesora 
52. Kebobs 
53. The 16 hour store 
54. Hearing British accents 
55. Speaking in English and nobody around me can understand a word 
56. Being foreign 
57. Carrefour 
58. Snow in the Plaza Mayor 
59. Bull running 
60. Landing in a new city, seeing a new country 
61. Churros con chocolate 
62. Jamón bocadillos 
63. Seeing the lights turn on in the plaza 
64. Sunsets on my walk home 
65. Dancing and singing to "Ai se eu te pego," shamelessly 
66. The ducks on my walk home 
67. Spanish bachelor parties 
68. Cute Spanish boys 
69. Birds chirping out my window
70. The music collection at the library
71. The ISA office & staff
72. Spaniards in costumes for no reason
73. Dar-ing un paseo 
74. Paella
75. Having zero responsibilities 
76. Bombones 
77. Arasmus friends
78. Corte Ingles
79. Sonia, my mujeres professer
80. Lazy afternoons by the river
81. Bumming cigarettes from Spanish strangers
82. Random religious holidays 
83. Excursions around Spain
84. San Boal
85. 50  cent coffee machine
86. Dinner at 9 pm
87. Overwhelming amounts of free time
88. Spanish tortilla  
89.  Very clean streets 
90.  Babies in European hipster outfits
91. Hearing conversations in Spanish, French, Japanese, Russian, English, German, and Dutch all in the same day 
92. Looking up and seeing the architecture   
93. Sipping wine and eating tapas in the Plaza Mayor
94. Being able to speak English with my friends and nobody around us can understand what we're saying
95. Parque de Jesuitas 
96. My host family
97. Calle Torro 
98. The view on my walk home, right before I turn down my street
99. This sense of adventure everyone seems to have
100. Moments like this with friends I'll never forget:

Photo courtesy of Sergius Colin

IT HAS FINALLY HAPPENED!!!

I woke up on Saturday morning from a weird dream I was having. I was talking to my dad, who was picking me up at the airport. In the dream, I was seriously confused, and slightly frustrated, because all I wanted was to be able to express myself to him, having not seen him for so long.  I understood what he was saying, but it wasn't normal.  I heard what he was saying, it made sense, but something wasn't right..

As I woke up and rolled over, a smily grew across my face as I slowly realized something: I had been dreaming in Spanish.  My dad was speaking to me, in my dream, IN SPANISH!

If it happens that one time, that's okay, because I never thought it would happen.  So after Saturday I can finally say: I have dreamed in a foreign language.

And that makes me happy.

Why the world *never ceases to amaze me

In February I wrote a blog post about poetry I was reading to help me learn Spanish.  About a week after I posted the poem, I received an email from a man named Chema.  Translated into English, he wrote:

Hi, I'm Chema Negron. I was pleasantly surprised that you published a poem written by my uncle, Angel Negron Colomer.   I think he would have liked very much be on the Internet (I guess like any poet). He was a very educated man, a chemist, a political scientist ... but above all, POET. Interestingly you have posted his poem on the day the first year anniversary of his death, which was the January 29, 2011.  Coincidence?  In any case, THANK YOU Kelsey!

This blew my mind.  I mean, how cool is that? And random, because I had no idea. I want to say THANK YOU, to Chema, for letting me know!

Unfortunately, when classes started up again and my schedule got busy in February, I stopped reading as much as I had been.  Then, this past weekend, on an afternoon it FINALLY stopped raining, my friends and I went to the park.  As we watched the world pass us by, we read a bit of Spanish poetry together and learned some new words, and Mark (sorry if you hate me for posting this!) wrote a few lines about Salamanca. It was day that was "super guay," if you ask me.  Days like this, completely average and unexpected, those will be the best memories.  

Photo taken by Miss Somer Stapleton

Stating the obvious, perhaps

This past month I discovered a tool that has "changed my life" here in Spain: Google voice.   If you don't have it, get it.  It is an app through google that allows me to call American phone numbers (cell phones, home phones, business phones)  from a computer, FOR FREE.

I mean, it's insanity. My European cell phone charges me a 50 cent connection fee, then its 30 cents a minute. And unlike skype where you have to arrange a time to call somebody and make sure you look decent enough since it's face-to-face communication, with google voice you're given the anonymity of being just a voice from the other end.  In trying to figure out my apartment lease for next year (UGH!!!), it has actually been quite helpful.  

But sometimes I wish, selfishly, that I could be living here 10, 15, or 30 years ago...or in a time where communication was less developed and the only way of talking to friends and family was by "snail mail." Hand written letters and postcards are the best, but let's be honest: they take time to write and to send.  How weird would it be to go home after having been abroad and see my family and talk to them after having been away for 9 months?!

I guess what I am trying to say is: with tools like Google voice, my world gets smaller and more connected. So that when I need to deal with my lease crisis for my apartment, I can call my mom or best friend at my convenience, and that's awesome.


PS Happy Spanish Labor Day! aka, another day of no school for me! I love this country.