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Main >> News Listing >> December 2003 >> Article ID 3160
Study Abroad | Type: Internet Article |
| | Do I really have to come home? | Dec 03, 2003 | by Katy Bishop
Summary:
"This is nothing new; he knows all of Christina Aguilera's moves better than she does herself and shows them off whenever the mood hits him, which is usually every 10 minutes. " |
I swear that was the shortest three and a half months of my life. Now I have to summarize 12 weeks in less than 1000 words, which will be very difficult, because I talk a lot.
Before I go onto my sad, final, sentimental recap of my time in Spain, here is a quick summary of our trip this past weekend to Barcelona. Barcelona: our last excursion on the big, purple tour bus. The last time Peter would yell at us to be quiet, the last time Meghan and I would loudly sing '80s style Karaoke without background music to annoy the people on the back of the bus. How sad.
We stopped over in the city of Logrono for dinner the night before arriving in Barcelona. This dinner turned out to be one of my favorite memories so far, and I will tell you why. Long story made short, our group of 23 was dining in a fine winery when the only guy in the group, who is openly gay, started dancing up on the back of my chair. This is nothing new; he knows all of Christina Aguilera's moves better than she does herself and shows them off whenever the mood hits him, which is usually every 10 minutes.
Anyways, the waiter was watching with a strange, yet interested look on his face. I swear I saw a glimmer in his eye. Who knows, maybe it was bad lighting. A couple minutes later, we hear Spanish clubbing music come on over the restaurant, and our waiter emerges sprinting through the kitchen doors. He then continued to jump onto a table and started breaking it down like a Chippendales dancer.
I thought I was drunk; this couldn't be happening. Forty-year-old men are not allowed to gyrate their hips like that. Somehow, a turntable and disco ball were thrown into the mix, and we were all dancing until it came time to head back to the hotel. Random, but so funny.
So that was Logrono, but Barcelona was even better. The city was historically beautiful and exciting; we saw the artwork of Gaudi and saw the Olympic stadium from the '92 games. Every 20 feet you could find a different street performer, and the nightlife was great. We joined a pub crawl and ended up in an awesome club on the water.
Of course, the night couldn't be complete without being followed home by a weirdo from the club. His name was Fabio. No, not Mr. "I can't believe its not butter" Fabio, but a short Italian with a long ponytail who I tried unsuccessfully to run from for an hour.
In the end, Barcelona was great, and no one wanted to leave. So now, I must reach as far back as my first article and respond to the myths and preconceptions about Spain that I had prior to leaving the United States.
I have successfully proven all of them true or false, so now in order I will address them.
Myth 1: Moving to Spain with one suitcase - Try three, you stingy bastards at the airport. No one can tell me that there is not enough room to bring my teddy bear. My carry-on was the size of a small horse, and I snuck it past the luggage scales at check-in. Insert evil laugh here. Question is, after months of shopping, can I bring it all back?
Myth 2: Spanish food equals obesity upon return to the United States - I was convinced I'd be rolling off the plane a Spanish butterball in December, but instead of gaining 50, I lost 10. My Nani cooked me wonderful, healthy food every single day and I enjoyed everything she set in front of me. Spain is ridiculously healthier than the United States, and I have not seen one obese person the whole time I have been here.
Myth 3: Whatever you do, don't stick out! OK, so I stuck out, badly. What do you want me to do, die my head black? Spanish men love blondes. If I had a dime for every time I heard one yell "Que rubia!" (translation: how blonde!), I would buy them all cameras so that they could take a picture, because, hey, it lasts longer.
Myth 4: Nude beaches - Yes there were nudies on the beach and no, I did not enjoy it. Enough said.
Myth 5: Love or hate your host family - Loved them! Naturally, things were awkward at first, but that went away with time. Lucia and I became friends, bonding by watching "The Simpsons" at lunch. Nani was the best Senora I could ever have asked for. She always provided me with everything I needed; she made me little bag lunches when we went on field trips, and when I flipped out and cried over my bad art exam grade she consoled me and made my favorite food for dinner that night. I am really going to miss her, but I know that another lucky student will get to live with her next year.
Going to Spain was the best decision I have ever made, and the trip turned out to be the best months of my life. Spain changed me. Don't get me wrong; I am still a smartass who loves Bojangles', Enrique Iglesias, rap and prefers speaking English, but my eyes have been opened to so much more. I found that you learn more about your own country by being outside of it, and being away from your friends and family for longer than a week will not kill you. I can't speak for the whole group, but I think that everyone had a great time, including the girl who spent 99 percent of her time worrying about what her boyfriend was doing back at home.
Good and bad things happened for everyone while they were here: three people decided to stay for the year, one girl fell in love with a boy who I do not doubt she will marry, and everyone made new friends. I encourage anyone to study abroad if at all interested; I guarantee you the time of your life. |
Source: Technician Online | |
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