Now that it's been almost two months since my last post, and over one month since I've been back on the motherland, I figured, "What could be a better time than now to finish my blog?!" Perhaps it is knowing that this is my last post that has churned some sort of inner-melancholy, provoking me to stall and procrastinate on writing my last entry. Or maybe it's that the last week in Spain, I wrote three final essays for Don Quijote and my "internship" and the idea of jumping on the ole laptop to write some more, more or less, made me nauseous. I'll go with a combination of the two.
Arriving back in Spain after running around Europe, gave me surprising feelings. As strange as the country can be, I felt like I was coming home. I realized that I had missed Cervante's hometown and the thought of leaving for good so soon really did make me sad. The reunion with the Terps was fantastic. We had a big dinner out and comparing that last dinner to our first dining venture, I realized how much of a family we had become. We argued, we laughed, we cried, we dos besoed. It was great.
Moving out was not such a great experience. I parted ways with Carolina, my mother-like figure of Alcala. Sad. I said 'goodbye' to La Yenna when she left. Sad times two. Then I said 'goodbye' to Funglah when I left. Triple sad. But then, just to mix up my emotions some more, I got to see Le Ginge and her family in Santiago with Marta and her rents! We went out to eat, and the experience was phenomenal. Watching the cultures mix was pretty awesome.
My real last days in Spain were spent in Pontevedra with my Spanish family. We went to the beach, climbed oceanside cliffs, went to an empty parking lot to hang out, (not illegal), and my Spanish dad serenaded me with a song on his guitar sung in Gallego. I really felt like their Spanish daughter, and if I wasn't coming back to see them when I'm abroad in England, I would've let all my girlie emotions show and bawled. Luckily, I didn't have to do that. :)
On the flight home from Frankfurt I sat next to a Romanian grandpa who didn't speak English. He would tuck in my blanket when I fell asleep and I would order him food. I also helped fill out his immigration form. By help I mean I drew pictures and made animal noises to figure out if he had been by livestock lately. I also let him listen to 'Numa Numa' on my iPod. He was more fascinated by the iPod, which he had never seen before, than by the fact that I knew a Romanian song. When we parted ways it was sad times four.
But then I got to reunite with the fam, friends, and all of my little pueblo, which I have come to love more dearly than ever.
The end. =)
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