Last day in Spain

We had just seen Natalia’s final ballet performance and were heading home when it hit me; this was my last night in Salamanca with the Lopez family. As we drove by the library, I was reminded of the countless hours I had spent there studying. Most days Allison went too, and we would help each other out, exchange stories, and give each other a little break from the constant strain of thinking outside your own language. We drove by Navega (the soccer field) and I remembered the countless practices I had there, and all of the crazy girls on the team. They all signed a team picture for me, saying they were sad I had to leave, that they would always remember me, referencing inside jokes and what not. We passed Cristina’s house where I would eat lunch with her and her father almost everyday after school. I remembered sleeping over at her house after some great nights with her and her friends, and playing soccer through the hallways with her little brother, Victor. I had thought I would be fine, that I would be happy to go home, but in that moment, driving back to their house, our house, for the last time, I found myself questioning what “home” meant to me.

When we reached the house, Carlos noticed that I wasn’t exactly peppy, and in an attempt to distract me, he said, “Ven a ver mis tomates!” “Come see my tomatoes!” You wouldn’t think that tomatoes would trigger any sort of emotional response, but for one reason or another, remembering Carlos tending to his tiny tomatoes that had now grown around 6 inches really got me. I started bawling, much to Carlos’ bewilderment. I came around a few minutes later and we started making dinner: crepes, the same meal we had my very first night in Salamanca. I felt better during dinner – joking and talking about the day with my family like always. As everyone finished up, I remembered the gift I had for them. “ESPERAD!” I shouted before anyone could get up. I sprinted upstairs to get the little wooden hippopotamus I bought one day in el Rastro (an outdoor flee market) along with a letter I typed up.

When I came back down, they insisted that I read them the letter out loud, which I hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t until I read the words I had written out loud that they took meaning, and so began the waterworks once again. Later, even though I didn’t feel like it, Fonsey and Carlos insisted that I go out with my friends one last time, so at 1 am after we’d taken a photo all together, had quite enough crying for one year, and eaten our full of crepes, Carlos drove me into town where I met up with Allison and some soccer friends for the last time.

It ended up being one long night. We sang, we danced, and we enjoyed where we were until five in the morning, two hours before our train would leave from Salamanca to Barcelona. I stopped at the house to pick up my bags and change, and then I was off.

Allison and I spent the first half of the train ride teary-eyed and reminiscent, and the second half sleepy. We arrived in Barcelona nine hours later, met up with the rest of the exchange students, told stories each other stories, and spent our last night looked back on five beautiful months of challenge, learning, and discovery in Spain.