Two things were confirmed at the “bailaste” class I just attended at my local gimnasio in Madrid: 1. the box step is a universal dance move; 2. I cannot dance. As I attempted, and failed, to shimmy along with a group of 30 middle-aged Spanish women, I came to the conclusion that bailaste would be my first and last zumba-like dance class I take in Spain. Painful as it was, I do not regret attending the class. It was one of the many things I plan to try while on my semester of “yes.”
Before departing for Madrid almost four weeks ago, I received countless words of advice from friends who had travelled on semesters abroad before me. The best advice I heard was two simple words: say yes. Sure, it sounds simple; but for someone who is perfectly comfortable with her family, friends and life at Amherst, “saying yes” could prove to be a bit of a challenge.
I will be completely honest. I was not excited to come here. I was perfectly content at home and would have gladly returned to Amherst to repeat, yet again, orientation week with my lacrosse team and take extremely difficult classes and wonder how I was accepted to Amherst. But four weeks ago I boarded an airplane and cried my eyes out for the first hour of the flight and wondered what the hell I was doing.
It didn’t exactly feel like I was going abroad for a full three and a half months. At the time it felt like an organized school field trip with a bunch of Syracuse kids who must have all been best friends. I believed no one could understand me because I went to a small liberal arts school in the middle of nowhere Massachusetts. I spent a good amount of time clarifying at the airport that no, I do not attend UMass and no, I do not party there. The first ten days of my trip were spent traveling Spain with my seminar class. I was instantly awarded the nickname “mom.” A week and a half after leaving the states, I was terribly homesick.
No one tells you that part. Everyone says you arrive in Europe and its like rainbows fall from the sky and you never want to leave. Nope, sorry not true. I received snap chat after snap chat of Amherst orientation, viewed countless instagrams of my friends reuniting, read too many emails about the location of the annual lacrosse barbecue, and I wanted to go home.
Then I arrived in Madrid. Scared as hell. First things first: I do not speak Spanish. I was in AP Spanish senior year of high school, took the exam, and received a one. You get that for writing your name, as far as I know. So there I was, going to live with a host family in Madrid that does not speak one word of English. Devyn and I hopped in the car with Regina and Carlos, arrived “home,” and it hit me that I would be here until December. I realized that this was going to be as much fun as I made it.
So I said yes to getting my nose pierced. I said yes to riding on the back of a motorcycle. I’ve gone to art museums and beautiful parks and plenty of churches. I’ve tried food that I didn’t know could be food. I’ve taken classes at my new gym and have been laughed at for being the only American. I have made new friends and will continue to meet new, amazing people. I’ve said yes to more nights out than I should have, but don’t regret a single one. I tried absinthe (disclaimer: it is, in fact, worse than it looks). I have flights booked to different cities and cannot wait to explore this continent that is much larger than it appears on a map.
Yes, I miss my friends. I will miss tailgating at the football games. I miss being best friends with my Professor. I miss being able to actually communicate with people other than the students. I miss my mom and dad. I miss Flayvors. So much. Why is it so hard to find ice cream in this city??
But I am having what I imagine will continue to be one of the greatest experiences of my life. I am so fortunate to be immersed in a culture where I stick out like a sore thumb (I may be the only redhead in this country, literally). I have three months left here, and plan to make the most of it. Here is to a semester of “yes.”