Coming home last Thursday (June 11) literally put me in a depression mode. I was broke, snatched from Europe due to faulty internship planning, no job, and in the middle of the suburbs in Jersey. However, my awesome boss from last summer, Yianni Garcia, had sent me a facebook message the same day I decided to head home to the states informing me that one of his friends was looking for an assistant for a new york modeling agency. Honestly, I was a tad hesitant because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to enter back into the fashion industry. Being in Spain allowed me to focus heavily on my community work in addition to providing a great atmosphere for me to write. Well needless to say, I went on the interview with Code Model Management and got hired on the spot. They were impressed, I was impressed, and everything just fell into place. This position is literally the best thing that has probably happened to me. My co-workers/supervisors are amazing and there is so much room for growth in the company and my career. Between scouting for new models, booking test shoots, putting together portfolio books, and a ton more, I almost run to the office every morning (and you all know I am NOT a morning person). I am just pure excited about this new job. Now I just have to focus on simultaneously building my writing portfolio; however, I doubt that I will be leaving Code anytime soon. Feeling pure bliss!~
It has been an interesting semester, hasn’t it? I began January by flying to Madrid to be in NYU in Madrid’s program, living in Spain’s capitol, and feeling for the second time what it’s like to be a study abroad American student in Europe. And then I returned and I saw my country swear in the first African-American president in our history and stood on the front lawn of the capital experiencing something that I hope to tell not just my children, or my grandchildren, but my great-grandchildren and I hope the stories continue to go on generation by generation. It was that amazing tone that seemed to set my semester to something incredible, to a level that I couldn’t even imagine at the time. And then my father was sworn in to be a superior court judge that same week, something he has worked for endlessly during his career. The sentiments continued to build because dreams were becoming a part of everyday life all around me. It was no longer a stretch of the imagination to say “my president is Black!” or that perhaps America was moving toward a new era that we’ve all been waiting for…change, the same word that an amazing campaign was built on, change and hope. I returned to Madrid a few days later to work on the moment God had given me. In truth, the honeymoon phase had passed and now I was in a city, with a language that I was not fluent in, and city folks that truly weren’t that friendly. As someone who refuses to stay in any bubbles set for myself, I could feel myself becoming upset that the interaction I expected with native-Spanish speakers and Madrid’s citizens was not coming to pass. Instead, I was there with my American friends in and out of class, speaking our common language of English, having a great party life, and feeling my Spanish reach a plateau where it wasn’t getting better or worse…it just “was”.
With this feeling of just existing and not progressing, I waited, I meditated, and I prayed for guidance. Then after something like a fairytale, I booked a weekend trip with my friend Tammy to Sevilla to get away in hopes of clearing my mind from my surroundings and focusing harder on what I was supposed to receive from my study abroad experience. After meeting so many international students from all over Europe and South America, and even some from the U.S., all studying in Sevilla at actual Spanish universities with native Spanish students, I knew immediately that HEY THAT’S WHAT I CAME HERE FOR!!!!
So I did the unthinkable and left my program in Madrid to move to Sevilla and enroll in a local university called the Universidad de Pablo Olavide, by far the most adventurous thing I’ve done in my life. Moving to a place, I’ve only seen once and completely risking my academic semester, but I had one of those “feelings” that it was right even though it logically could not be explained. But four months later, I can tell you that my Spanish literally has me feeling that I am reaching the top of the ladder to fluency, if not being two steps from already achieving it, I made a life friend (love ya Tammy), and I got the opportunity to experience Spain and its inhabitants on a completely different level. Between my trips to Granada, Barcelona/Catalunya, Ibiza, Palma Mallorca, Valencia, and Cordoba all within Spain and then to Greece and the Greek islands, it is clear that God had a plan and something to show me. That extent of traveling would not have been possible on my NYU in Madrid schedule and the Spanish I had to use to communicate and most importantly hear the stories and histories of the locals would have never been at the proper level. But still Madrid was a blessing, Sevilla was a blessing, and every person I met contributed to my life in a unique way. I thank God for making all of this possible including the family and friends that supported me through this. To my Mom, Grandmother, and Auntie that were always there to hear me vent on a phone call, I can’t tell you how much it meant to have people to talk to when you’re so far away from home. To my Aunt Candace and Uncle Bruce that literally financed this trip and gave me the spiritual talk that I needed before I left their house in Michigan/gave me great advice while I was abroad, my travels and attitude toward this trip would have never been the same without you. To my sister who managed to keep me laughing through this whole process between her emails, comments on my blog and our phone conversations, I LOVE YOU! And love to my brother Bryson and Asha for coming all the way across the Atlantic to see your little sister! It was great to see you guys and some familiar faces in Spain. And to my Dad who gave me some great words of advice for returning to New York and my last days in Spain, it was exactly what I needed to hear to prepare me for my last year of school.
Although I thought I’d be moving to live in Cordoba for the next 2 months to intern for the Plataforma Andaluza de Apoyo al Lobby Europeo de Mujeres (Andalucian Platform of Support to the European Lobby of Women), I ended up moving back home to Jersey and currently thinking about my next steps. My senior year of college starts in less than 3 months and I’m sure that God has a ton more things to show me before that accomplishment. I wanted to put together some picture memories for you all from all my trips, experiences, and last days of being in Sevilla. Thanks for all the continued support while I was abroad. I love you all!!!!!
I’ve always been the baby of my friends thanks to my Dad putting me in pre-school early. But even in college, I just always seem to drift toward the older crowd, not by much (the typical age gap between my friends and I is between 2-5 years) but just enough for me to sit back and observe the “life and trials” of a recent American college graduate. Just about all of my friends graduated a few weeks ago and the story has been the same: no job (or one without benefits), moving home (because they can’t afford to live on their own), and literally just confused about what steps to take next in life. Grad school rejection letters have been flying left and right because “hey” that was everyone’s chosen direction once the economy crashed, “I’ll just stay in school until it’s over.” And now everyone is kind of just sulking on their living room couches dealing with the after effect of being a college graduate with loans about to kick in, in approximately 6 months.
I was talking to one of my friend’s in London about the whole American student thing of needing to find a job within 6 months to pay off student loans and he looked at me like I was crazy. Supposedly in the U.K., student loans are attached to your social security number, when you get a job, the bank takes out a certain percentage of your salary to go toward your student loans, but if you end up unemployed then you aren’t obligated to start paying back the debt until you get a job. Wow, isn’t that a novelty? That would sure help out a lot of students in America right now and take off the stress of finding a decent job as soon as possible. But since America is really just one large bank, I mean our Federal Reserve actually is privately owned, I doubt something like that would come to pass. I’m thankful that my president is throwing out billions in aid to American families, but really the whole system needs restructuring. Why put the monster on a diet when you can just kill it?
In the “meantime” (as I always like to quote Iyanla Vanzant), my friends have all found themselves at the crossroads. Spending time on your parents couch and watching reruns of Maury, will always make you think. The truth of the matter is (at least I believe) that God always shows you what direction to take. He probably showed you months ago and perhaps you weren’t listening, or maybe you need to be at home right now for reasons yet to show themselves. Don’t fret, it’s all going to work out, and I’m not just saying that because I’m in Spain. America always bounces back. The question just becomes, how much longer until another recession and how will we all prepare to not be in this situation again?
After 469 pages, I had this somewhat epiphany that went something like “Arielle, remember when you used to blog about the random thoughts that popped into your head before you moved to Spain?” Admittedly, not having 24 hour internet access and having to pay a drink price at café just to use their wifi, has kind of disconnected me from the online world. Yes, it’s true. I manage to check my email still just about everyday and mostly the same for my Facebook. I try to blog after I travel. But up to date devices such as Twitter (and yes, ladies and gentlemen thanks to Undercurrent, the social media think-tank, aka my former employer that introduced me to the blogosphere/social media world from a business perspective, I had Twitter way before CNN or any other major media brand made it extremely popular follow me at ariellep for updates when I return back to NYC) unfortunately, I don’t have the opportunity to use it that much here in Spain, nor do I have the desire to. I really enjoyed being in New York, walking down the street and seeing something funny and putting a comment through a text message to have it update my Twitter feed. But that luxury is no longer there thanks to Verizon not being able to service an affordable international plan through my LG touch screen phone (you would think something decently technologically advanced would have such capabilities), but these days I guess the only way people get things done is through a Blackberry, right?
Well to that I say, damn the masses and after reading Candace Bushnell’s One Fifth Avenue after one of my nostalgic moments where I started to think, “hey, maybe I do miss New York,” and rushed to Casa del Libro where I remembered seeing the book on sale in English, I realized that I simply don’t. I do not miss New York. Although once and always considered a suburban Jersey girl, after a year at New York University, New York has become home. It is my home. It’s a part of me and gives me the same feeling that every student feels when they return home to see their parents in their hometown, extremely excited at first to have a great home cooked meal and family attention, only a week later to find out, OMG I am ready to move back into my little dorm and reclaim my freedom. I think my return to New York will be somewhat like that. I’ll be so excited to be back in the hustle and bustle, and then after about a week and the reality of senior year facing me, I’ll be ready to fly back over to Europe, back to my little room I am renting in this old house in Sevilla, Spain.
I guess the pursuit of happiness never really ends, and it is somewhat bothersome that it’s penned so clearly in American capitalism and symbolism. Although I am not a continuous Bushnell reader, what she did do with quite grace was point out the ridiculousness of New York society, money, wealth, and how everyone moving to New York has this goal to “make it” in the big city. I was there almost 2 years ago, a 17 year old senior high school graduate, who just had to move to New York and attend New York University to make her dreams of becoming a writer and magazine editor come true. And I started blazing that path and accomplished a lot, but right when you think you have it all planned out, a fast ball hits you in the chest. After losing my wind and coughing up what seemed to be a refreshing revelation, I realized that I probably will not be living in New York after next year. I also realize that I could be taking that back with the proper job opportunity presenting itself, because New York has this thing where it sucks in any type of humble or peaceful mentality you arrive with and spits back out this hungry monster that wants to ball all types of potential success into the quickest route possible. Bushnell points that out so vividly, and I encourage all aspiring New York socialites or future professionals to read her book and realize what you are getting into. Admittedly, I didn’t see the light until I moved to Spain because even in London, I was obsessed with getting back to New York and spent the majority of my winter break there instead of in Jersey. Not saying that will change when I return, because I really do like having my space as a young woman, but now New York has just become a temporary skyline. It will always be there but never a permanent fixture in my brain. I like being in Sevilla and being able to repeat the same pair of jeans 3 times in a week or having to hang my laundry on clothing lines because we don’t use dryers. Also, I love washing dishes without a dishwasher, and that I could literally sit in my cozy bedroom and read six novels consecutively in a week, manage my homework, travel, and learn from so many people just because you have made a point to learn and speak their language. New York doesn’t have that; it is the most relevant microcosm of America and our consumer heel in the ground style. I’m out of the bubble now and it will never be reconstructed. STICK ME IN A HOUSE IN BRASIL SOMEWHERE AND LET ME WRITE MY NOVELS! (after I manage to learn Portuguese lol)
So I couldn’t have been more excited about my brother Bryson and Asha coming to visit me in Spain. They had been planning this trip for months and I was soooo happy to see it come through. Other than my Aunt Candace popping through to London (and me meeting her there), I haven’t seen my family since late January, so it felt great to see some familiar faces in my temporary home of Europe.
Although I reeeallllyyyy wished Brys and Ash would’ve came to Andalucia (the BEST region of Spain PERIOD!), it’s definitely understandable that Spain is a big country even though it seems little. It cannot be done in a week comfortably. Therefore, I flew up north to meet them in Valencia after they experienced Barcelona and Palma Mallorca. If I had to pick my favorite place next to Sevilla, hands down it would be Valencia. The paella and the city is a mix between a Madrid/Barcelona and Andalucia. The people are fairly nice and its a decent paced environment for a working professional. Nevertheless, as tourists, we ate great paella, went to a biopark (aka a zoo) under Asha’s insistance lol, hit up the LLADRO factory (I now understand why those little porcelein glass figures are so expensive), and then they went to the aquarium while I went to hunt down this store named Mala Mujer that had this t-shirt I saw on this girl in Sevilla and wanted lol (no seriously, I really haven’t been shopping here like that to save money for plane tickets lol).
I then flew to Madrid (they took the train), and we went to a beautiful flamenco show (which was surprising because the best flamenco shows are typically in Andalucia, where flamenco was founded). But it was no surprise that all the dancers were from where….you guessed it…ANDALUCIA. Can you guys tell that I’ve become an Andalucia girl at heart? hahaha Anyway, the following day I spent almost 12 hours writing my final 6 page paper on psychology theory in Spanish. After endless hours of torturous readings in Spanish, citing, and writing, I officially can declare I’M A SENIOR BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, family get ready for Ari’s graduation next May But we celebrated that night by checking out Madrid’s night life and then I left the following afternoon to head back to Sevilla. In all, I think Bryson and Asha’s first experience in Spain and Europe was a positive one and I hope they get to come back (thanks to the mess ups of Air France)!
Without a doubt, Sevilla is the place for artistry. Whether you are a writer, painter, sculptor, photographer, artisan, dancer or whatever, the inspiration is here for your craft and with nothing but pure natural happiness alive in the atmosphere; so many great things have been created. For one, the Feria festival had all types of medieval artists selling their crafts for almost 3 days straight (I actually got a lot of friends and family gifts from there!). But moreover, at night there and all throughout the day, there were performances by dancers, flamenco and contemporary singers, amongst other talents. It was definitely a lot of fun and a great way to enjoy Sevilla before my final exams (which went really well!). Below are some pictures of an oriental dance group that did belly dancing/hindu routines.
However, the most remarkable artistry by all that I have seen in Sevilla was definitely the Desvuelos exposition by photographer Angéle Etoundi Essamba. She photographed the most beautiful images of African women in veils and head pieces that I have ever seen. The exposition is right in the middle of the tourist area, walking from Plaza Espana to the Giralda, and simply captivates who ever’s eye that glances by it. As a writer, I love seeing people who follow their art even when it’s the less popular societal or monetary choice. Although in truth, one day we all have to support ourselves, it’s so important to stay true to the talents God has given you, because you never know how he may use you to express them!
Here are a few snapshots of Essamba’s exposition, enjoy!
I think Santorini was the trip of “you only get to do this once in a lifetime.” It seemed like every crazy activity my friend Tammy and I got ourselves into was extremely exhilarating or just plain crazy.
1. We decided to walk up an active volcanoe, in flip flops, and with solely two bottles of water. WHEW!!!!! I thought it was going to be over, I must be out of shape because there were definitely some older people doing the same hike and moving at a great pace hahaha. Nevertheless it was amazing and we got some great pics.
2. I swam in hot springs (Tammy wasn’t trying to get her hair wet lol). Our boat pulled up about 40 meters from the hot springs, so we had to literally jump off the boat into really cold water that was definitely deeper than i expected and swim 40 meters after the cold temperature shock to get to the beginning of the hot springs. Once we got there, it was definitely really cool. It wasn’t exactly hot, but it was pretty warm and must’ve been great for my skin. But then swimming back to the boat and going through another cold water temperature shock wasn’t that fun. But in all, it was worth it. I can now tell my kids, I swam in hot springs next to a volcanoe in Santorini!
3. Tammy has had this fantasy about riding a donkey since we got to Greece. I honestly wasn’t to keen on it because frankly I think donkeys are gross. But I said hey, “only once in a lifetime!” and decided to ride up a super steep mountain with a group of tourists on a donkey. I thought my life was going to end. Between the donkeys half trying to compete with each other and our crazy old Greek ride leaders trying to speed things up, I thought that I was going to get thrown off the donkey over the edge of the cliff. Yes, I was truly scared, but again it was worth it. So yes, I have offically ridden a donkey up a mountain in Greece hahaha
For the rest of the trip, we had a great time, met great people, and ate more GREAT GREEK FOOD!!! This is probably it for my travels other than when Ash and Bryson come to Spain. I’ll be finishing up my semester in the next 3 weeks and preparing for my summer plans (which still aren’t concrete mmmm hahaha). The traveling has been great though while it has lasted! -Ari-
Funny enough, Mykonos has probably been the most memorable consecutive 4 days I have EVER had in my life. It was filled with the type of memories I would tell my grandchildren and reminded me so much of the story my Aunt Candace told me about her and my mom in Jamaica. For one, we arrived in Mykonos at the port and had a man from our hotel “Paradise Resort” waiting for us to bring us back to the “resort.” So we get in the van and then make one more stop at another port where a group of eight rowdy Austrailian guys got in our van. So the first thing I was thinking was…is this really a “resort” that we are going to? Because not for nothing, they looked more like the tent camping type with their backpacks and dirty hiker boots and clothes. Little did we know, they were way more dressed for what we were about to experience. We pull up to Paradise “Resort” and go to the reception desk but I still didn’t see this “hotel” building that I expected our rooms to be in. Well, Paradise “resort” is actually a camping site composed of cement cabins and tents with iron beds inside of them. The funny thing was I thought of my mom and sister as soon as I rolled up and opened the door to our cement cabin with our two iron beds on each wall and was about to SCREAM. We won’t even go there about the bathrooms, I think you get the idea. But as me and my other friends always say, YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR. And for 20 euros a night for the cabin and a free breakfast, we got what we paid for…granted we had better luck in Spain when we paid the same price, but you live and you learn, and realize that the best vacations have nothing to do with your sleeping accommodations.
Since we got to Mykonos in the early afternoon, we chilled on the beach at our “resort” even though it was a little windy, but with the mountains off in the distance and the Mediterranean seas various colors along with the little white cement houses up in the cliffs, it was definitely a place for us to reflect on our entire abroad experience. That night, we froze. The blanket they gave us for our beds kept sliding off in the middle of the night and it was so bad that Tammy and I would literally be looking at each other in the middle of the darkness, half asleep and probably thinking the same thing, damn this “resort.” But we got smarter after the first night and asked for another blanket and slept just fine the following night. The interesting part began after our first night though. We woke up early in the morning and headed into Mykonos town where there are a ton of small streets and shops. We walked through the entire place in almost 2 hours, but in the process sat down for drinks and met this awesome Greek waiter that gave us the run down about the entire island. His name was Yiannis and he is originally from Athens. He moved to Mykonos 3 years ago to get away from the city life and see more of nature as he put it. This man told me he makes 3,000 EUROS, which is like 4,000 dollars a month. I was like huuuuuhhhhhhhhh!!! To serve drinks?????????????????????? His rent for an entire house here is 330 euros which he splits with a roommate, and then I told him that he better stop before I move to Mykonos and never return to New York. Nevertheless, we had great conversations about life and made arrangements to meet up later on. Since Tammy and I are known as the “old ladies” of our friends, we never came back into town to meet him later because we really didn’t feel like partying, but ended up going to hang out with him the following day. Yiannis did recommend we get dinner at a place close to the bar he worked at which had small little white tables facing the sea in direct view of the sunset. The food of course was incredible because all Greek food is incredible, but the view was just spectacular, which made the food 20 times better.
Before we had left the town that day, we met a bike and quad shop owner, who said he would rent us some quads the following day if we wanted to explore Mykonos in a less conventional route. He had my imagination racing with every movie of young students riding through the mountains and seeing the coastline on little streets in the mountains before he even finished his sentence. We had actually gotten the quad/motor bike idea at our “resort” but the worker there didn’t speak English well and told us that it would be 15 euro per hour but you had to rent it for 24 hours. So I was like wait you’re gonna charge us 360 EURO to rent a darn motor bike for a day????? And because I started speaking really fast (because that’s naturally what you do when you are baffled) the guy just nodded so Tammy and I walked off laughing and squashed that dream. But the guy who owned the quad shop in Mykonos town told us he would give it to us for 15 euro a day, and hearing that price difference made our dream come back to reality. The guy’s name was Manos, typical old Greek guy, but he has lived on the island his entire life. He told us where the best bars were and where we could see some authentic Greek dancing. We were of course excited and the next day we returned to the town to pick up our motorquads early since we unfortunately missed the last boat to Delos, the ancient archeological site/island close to Mykonos. We had been going to town by the bus that runs from our cabin site to the town and the Greek bus driver was not exactly my cup of tea. He was SO rude when I simply asked him when the last bus back to the resort was, so I wrote him off and Tammy and I gave the bus (that looked like it’d been alive since the 60s) the nickname of the “truck that is disguised as a bus” and the “bus driver that never got a chance to drive his truck.” Moving on….his spontaneous coffee break made us miss our boat to Delos, but God has everything happen for a reason and it gave us more time to explore Mykonos on our quads. We decided to be adventurous and not take a map. So when we stopped at the first gorgeous site on the side of a little mountain road to take pictures and turned our motorquads off, we realized that Manos never showed us how to turn our motorquads back on. We had officially made it 5 miles out of the town (Mykonos is only but so big) so imagine being in the most rural area where people don’t speak English and only Greek and then us trying to explain to them that we need to call the owner of our motorquads to tell him to come and get us. We at the time assumed that he gave us messed up quads and didn’t realize that we never asked how to turn them back on, so we took the opportunity since we were still at a pretty site to eat lunch and wait for him to come and get us. So as we ate he eventually rolled up on his motorbike and laughed saying “wow you grew to miss me that quickly” we then looked at him and were like “did you just give us messed up quads?” clearly we were not amused, but then we ended up being the silly ones because as we showed him how it wouldn’t “start” he calmly came over checked the gas, saw it was fine, and then pulled down the engine pump, pressed a button and then it started. So we all laughed and then he told us where the gas station was again, since we somehow missed it after he told us the first time as we were driving. And then we were off again, exploring Mykonos with our quads, helmets, and gorgeous mountainous view of the Mediterranean sea’s coast. We still couldn’t find the gas station and since we were stopping trying to figure out where we were/my quad turned off again and had to figure out how Manos restarted it the last time. When we looked up and there were two old greek guys, with the movie stereotype of four teeth looking at us, clearly seeing we were tourists. Of course, they also spoke no English, which made it 10 times more fun as Tammy tried to explain that we were looking for a gas station. Eventually the old man said he would come and show us, so he jumped on Tammy’s quad and she rode on the back. We joined a line of motor bike riders and rode one mile up the road to the gas station, clearly seeing how we passed it thanks to the limited English of Manos, even though he is one of the better speakers we met. So then we got gas and the old man jumped on the back of my quad and we rode him back to where we found him sitting. In Greek (like I could understand that) he asked me where I was a from, and eventually I figured out as he started listing countries what he was asking me, so I replied New York (which is the only place they seem to know in the U.S.) and he said “oh New York, New York!” and then proceeded to laugh and scream “MYKONOS!!!!!!” As we rode on the street back to his post, I couldn’t help but crack up because it was literally something out of a movie.
After we dropped him off, Tammy and I continued on our no map adventure and found a secluded beach off some road to stop and chill/write post cards. The view was just breathtaking, so we stayed for hours, dunked our feet in the water, and then went back into town to meet up with the waiter Yiannis after he got off work. After another amazing conversation about life, his advice, and his captivation with our hair and why we would perm it (that could be another blog post in itself), we returned back to our resort on our quads watching the sunset during the 20 minute ride. Later that night, we went to Oniro Bar and Restaurant, which overlooks Mykonos town and the old bay. It had a gorgeous view! Probably the best way to end our Mykonos experience. We woke up the following morning and latched our suitcases on the back of our quads (see the videos) and then rode into town to catch our boat to Santorini. Mykonos will definitely go down in my college history and stories to everyone I talk to!!!!
After a 6 hour bus trip from Sevilla to Madrid and an overnight sleepover in Madrid’s airport, I finally was off to Athens, Greece which would be the amazing entry port to my Greece experience. As I have found in many European cities, modernization has seemed to consume every corner leaving very few neighborhoods to spare. Of course, the city like atmosphere gave us our welcome between our bus and subway rides to our hostel and all the people who seemed to be in a rush to get nowhere (much like New York). Nevertheless, we found our hostel on a little street fairly close to the subway stop, entered the room and officially declared it our worst hostel experience in Europe (little did we know, Mykonos’ Paradise “Resort” would give that title a run for its money, more on that in my next blog post). The woman seemed like she had no idea we had a reservation, how much we were supposed to be charged, or when we were scheduled to arrive/leave. Secondly, there is one key for our 6 person bed room, for us to share with complete strangers. Supposedly the system is that the last person in the hostel leaves the key at the front desk and the first person to go back in to the hostel retrieves it…this must be a Greek system because every hostel we stayed at in Spain would never suggest such foolishness. To make matters worse, as my friend Tammy sat on the bottom bed of one of the bunk beds, a wooden board fell from the top bunk bed and hit her on the back of the neck (no worries, she’s fine), we weren’t exactly pleased. Then the random hip hop songs being blasted by other Americans in the morning trying to “show off” their American culture to our Greek receptionists…I was about ready to cuss some one out! But we toughed it out, it was only three nights and we were too excited to be in Greece to let anything or anyone ruin it. So the following day, we did our site seeing around Athens, visiting the amazing Acropolis, Ancient Agora, and Temple of Olympian Zeus. As you’ll see in the pictures, the history in Athens is absolutely amazing, and definitely something I recommend for anyone traveling to Europe.
Now I had to start a new paragraph for this because yes it’s that serious, GREEK FOOD IS DEEEEELLLLIIIICIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!! Ok had to be dramatic, because for the first time in months I experienced great customer service and great food. The Spanish are far too lazy to deliver anything close to American customer service, so being in Greece was refreshing. I ate an awesome Greek omelet for my first breakfast with FRESH fetta cheese, tomatoes and sausages. For dinner, I had the tenderest lamb cutlets wrapped in ivy leaves with fetta cheese and mushrooms in the middle, delicious gravy of olive oil and something the chef wouldn’t reveal, potatoes and rice. I literally felt like I had to be rolled away from the table and Greeks have this custom of giving free dessert after every meal, so it’d be rude not to eat it when it’s given to you. Let’s just say, I was STUFFED by the time I backed away.
Our last day in Athens was fairly simple mostly because we just went to the ship port, picked up our tickets, ate another great meal, and then returned to our hostel. We were way too excited about leaving for the Greek islands because after you see all the ancient history in Athens, it’s just another city like New York. In all, I have to say site seeing around Athens was one of the highlights of my abroad experience, it’s something I’ll be able to tell my kids that I saw and hopefully one day they’ll get to revisit it and continue the traveling legacy.
It has been an interesting semester, hasn’t it? I began January by flying to Madrid to be in NYU in Madrid’s program, living in Spain’s capitol, and feeling for the second time what it’s like to be a study abroad American student in Europe. And then I returned and I saw my country swear in the first African-American president in our history and stood on the front lawn of the capital experiencing something that I hope to tell not just my children, or my grandchildren, but my great-grandchildren and I hope the stories continue to go on generation by generation. It was that amazing tone that seemed to set my semester to something incredible, to a level that I couldn’t even imagine at the time. And then my father was sworn in to be a superior court judge that same week, something he has worked for endlessly during his career. The sentiments continued to build because dreams were becoming a part of everyday life all around me. It was no longer a stretch of the imagination to say “my president is Black!” or that perhaps America was moving toward a new era that we’ve all been waiting for…change, the same word that an amazing campaign was built on, change and hope. I returned to Madrid a few days later to work on the moment God had given me. In truth, the honeymoon phase had passed and now I was in a city, with a language that I was not fluent in, and city folks that truly weren’t that friendly. As someone who refuses to stay in any bubbles set for myself, I could feel myself becoming upset that the interaction I expected with native-Spanish speakers and Madrid’s citizens was not coming to pass. Instead, I was there with my American friends in and out of class, speaking our common language of English, having a great party life, and feeling my Spanish reach a plateau where it wasn’t getting better or worse…it just “was”.
Well to that I say, damn the masses and after reading Candace Bushnell’s One Fifth Avenue after one of my nostalgic moments where I started to think, “hey, maybe I do miss New York,” and rushed to Casa del Libro where I remembered seeing the book on sale in English, I realized that I simply don’t. I do not miss New York. Although once and always considered a suburban Jersey girl, after a year at New York University, New York has become home. It is my home. It’s a part of me and gives me the same feeling that every student feels when they return home to see their parents in their hometown, extremely excited at first to have a great home cooked meal and family attention, only a week later to find out, OMG I am ready to move back into my little dorm and reclaim my freedom. I think my return to New York will be somewhat like that. I’ll be so excited to be back in the hustle and bustle, and then after about a week and the reality of senior year facing me, I’ll be ready to fly back over to Europe, back to my little room I am renting in this old house in Sevilla, Spain.
But we celebrated that night by checking out Madrid’s night life and then I left the following afternoon to head back to Sevilla. In all, I think Bryson and Asha’s first experience in Spain and Europe was a positive one and I hope they get to come back (thanks to the mess ups of Air France)!
