Dear BC, I Miss You

Dear BC,

Hey! I MISS YOU! How is BC? Are we still in agreement about housing next year? Let me know if anything has changed. And give Sorwar a hug for me! I miss him too much. Abroad is great. I love the new friends that I’ve made here, the foods that I’ve eaten, and the culture that I’m experiencing. Spanish tortilla is the And the coffee here? Don’t even get me started. I’ve also never eaten so many olives in my life! Oddly enough, I love the milk here. It comes from the cows of Bilbao in Northern Spain, according to my host mother, which is why it’s so good. As much as I love everything in Spain, I do miss certain things about you. Yeah, yeah, I know that I said I wouldn’t miss you at all. But you were right; there are a few things that I yearn for.

I miss Lower. I miss grilled chicken with pesto being thrust upon my ready plate by the sometimes-smiling dining hall staff. I miss your spinach and baby carrots and buffet of fresh vegetables. My host mom likes to cook veggies, but she doesn’t quite understand how much I love vegetables. I need some green in my life that comes in the form of more than a few green beans in my paella. I need your endless options. Don’t get me started on how much I miss your lentil soup. And if someone were to offer me a bowl of your brown rice-black bean salad right now, I would inhale it. I miss your options, some healthy, others not so much. I yearn for your readily available chopped pineapple and your multi-flavored froyo station, complete with Oreos and all. But what do I miss the most? Addies, of course.

I miss your gym, full of machines and young people. There, I said it. I miss the Plex. I miss the windowless, stuffy fitness haven that we all know and love to hate. I miss your fitness classes at all hours of the day with instructors waiting eagerly to push us to our cardiovascular limits. I miss the Plex even if it’s hot, crowded, and decrepit. If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is.

I miss your students. I miss my friends. I miss the people who know everything about me. The ones who know my strange quirks, preferences, and flaws. I didn’t really consider that going abroad meant spending time with people who don’t really know why I am the way I am. They don’t always laugh at my dumb jokes or respond the way I hope to my odd statements. They don’t know what I’ve gone through or the way that I work. Am I supposed to explain that to them, or go about like I’m someone who I’m not?

I miss your weekends. I miss off-campus parties and nights spent in my dorm with my best friends. I miss the fun of getting ready with my roommates and blasting “Timber” and “Just Hold On, We’re Going Home.” I miss coming back at 2am or 3am instead of 6am or 7am. I almost miss Franzia. Almost. I miss the Saturday nights that we decided to stay in and watch dumb movies and order froyo. I miss not having to explain why I didn’t want to go out. I miss trekking to Whole Foods on Saturday afternoons. I nearly whimper at the thought of Fuel, your resident hipster coffee shop. I can’t say that I miss studying in your library, but I miss your readily available printing center. That is not a thing here in Europe, which really puts a damper on one’s day.

What don’t I miss? Your 5-day-per-week classes. The Europeans know what they’re doing with classes Monday through Thursday. I am thoroughly enjoying siesta, the time block from 2-5pm during which everything shuts down and we all just chill. I don’t really miss the difficulty of your academics. No, I definitely don’t miss that. I don’t miss your 3am fire alarms in the dorms. I am glad to have a break from your deceitful laundry machines; you know the ones. One minute left? Think again, unsuspecting BC student. More like ten minutes. Time to pretend like you’re texting someone when you’re really just refreshing your Instagram feed over and over until the machine finally stops.

I don’t miss your strict alcohol policy or the lines in your dining halls or trudging up the Million Dollar Staircase. I don’t miss your tiny dorm rooms and semi-functional hot water. I am faring just fine without paying an arm and a leg for the textbooks that I never read. I will make it without the Comm Ave bus. I love life without your frigid temperatures and infinite snow. I hate feeling like this. Sure, the skies opened up and brought you a snow day. But I’d pick 65 degrees and sunny in Spain any day over a day stuck inside going stir-crazy by 1:30pm.

As much as I miss your familiarity and reliability, I think I’ll make it here in Sevilla. I am adapting to my new environment and really embracing it. What’s not to love about a culture that embraces naptime, carbs, and the true enjoyment of life? I know you’ll always be there for me, which is one of the reasons why I chose to go abroad. I have an entire year left with you, don’t worry! We will get back into our old routine and it will be like I never left.

I hope to come home with a broader and more experienced worldview. I don’t want to come home and think that I’m better than you because I studied abroad and I am Euro-chic now. I hope that we can meld our worldviews to become one incredible vision! I hope that you ask me a few questions and are interested in my answers. I hope you don’t forget me while I’m gone! Don’t ever think that you’re not in my heart, because you’ll always have a special place there. And don’t worry; I’ll bring you back some tinto de verano and maybe even a croqueta! That is, if they let me bring it on the plane in May. Do you want a Cristiano Ronaldo jersey? Let me know!

Miss you and love you! Lets FaceTime soon.

Besos y abrazos de Sevilla,



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