Perched near my front door are two zipped houndstooth suitcases, a bubblegum pink Jansport backpack and coral camera bag. Just off to the right of my neatly packed bags are a mountain of half full chinese food cartons, an empty bottle of wine, three McDonalds bags, and a few scattered pill bottles; my father and I searched to no avail for a zanax or anything strong enough to calm my mother down from the stress of last minute packing.
In a few hours my ears will be popping, there will be a faint sound of a mother coaxing her child to stop yelling and a father slipping a sleeping pill into his complimentary beverage and wishing he never had kids, and I will be starring out the window, telling myself I will look-up the scientific explanation for airplanes but knowing I never will.
So begins my four month journey to Segovia, Spain (about an hour from Madrid, hence the guidebook pictured above). The goal of my four month stay abroad is to become as fluent in the Spanish language as it is possible for a native english speaker to become. I am savoring the feeling of writing in English, the fluidity and comfort I find in these words. Learning foreign languages is a passion of mine, but the feeling of having the language skills of a middle schooler and attempting to express complex ideas while sounding like an adult with a speech impediment is an undeniable downfall of speaking a non-native language.
In Spain I will be living with a host family and one of my very best friends. If that isn't an ideal situation then I'm not sure what is; for that I am grateful.