looking back one last time
No more "i miss spain" blogs. I promise (PS: I miss spain). Here's an article I was asked to write for the new magazine, the "Continental". They asked me to write something about my study abroad experience, to somehow describe in a short piece "how it changed you". God. What a question. So here is my response:
My last night in Spain, I sat on the edge of the Alhambra and looked out over the lights Granada. It was about two-o’clock in the morning, and the air was thick and humid with midsummer heat. There was a magnetic silence in the soft breeze, which blew every couple of seconds and brought with it the syncopated clapping of the flamenquistas in the caves of Sacromonte and the soft tones of guitars and laughter. I sat upon the ancient wall, my legs dangling over the edge of the city and contemplated the last six months of my life. Memories of people and scenarios flashed to mind, silly anecdotes and earth-shattering conversations, friendships that transcended the boundaries of language, culture and nationality, all textured with the smooth twist of Spanish. I laughed to myself as I wondered, how was it that I had come so far that even my memories were in a language different than my own? And so, as I looked out over the horizon behind me, I saw the outline of the Sierra Nevada mountains; the mountains with icing snow in the heat of summer were the only constant witness to my transformation, or rather, my affirmation into my own. In that moment, with the mountains, the soft music, the twinkling lights and the soft breeze, I knew that I was about to return to the United States a different woman.
At first during my travels abroad I made some very conscious decisions about the direction my semester would take. I avoided Americans and “American bars” as much as I could. I pushed myself to enter situations that may not have been very comfortable or familiar. But eventually I found myself naturally entering these situations, and becoming more comfortable in them than I could ever imagine.
One of my favorite memories of Granada occurred at about 5-o’clock in the evening on a Tuesday. My friends and I were sitting at a table in a plaza, drinking tea and discussing music. We are all from different countries: Mostafa from Syria, David from Spain, Rashim from Morocco, Rachel- a Lebanese American, Ben and Naomi from Israel, and Toli from “The Soviet Union.” We all spoke different languages, so Spanish was our common tongue. About midway through our discussion, it occurred to me how strange our situation must’ve appeared. Technically, all of our countries were afraid of each other. Technically, we were supposed to hate each other, to hold against each other the grudges and fears of our own nation. I remembered my own feelings of fear of the middle east while watching American news media, and I smiled ironically as I looked around the table. Yes, I was surrounded by people with histories, cultures, political and religious beliefs that were perhaps drastically different than my own, but there we sat. We acknowledged the common humanity that we all possessed, and forgave each other for the sins of our countries. It was as if we were able to transcend the boundaries and limits of culture, society, politics and fear. To me, that’s what studying abroad is really about.
It’s hard to say exactly how my study abroad experience changed me, or when exactly this change began to occur. I left the United States that day in January with one overwhelming emotion: fear. I was terrified of being alone in a foreign country, terrified of being away from my friends and my family, terrified of being surrounded by a new culture and most of all terrified of failing. But if anyone had told me to get off the plane and go home, I wouldn’t have. There was something stirring inside, deeper than the fear and the preoccupation of leaving my country behind: it was the promise of a viewing a new and different world. What I found, however, was not that I was able to view the world through the narrow lens of an American student, but rather I was able to look into my own life through the vast lens of the world.
My trip to Granada was about conquering my fears and accepting and understanding myself as an independent and capable individual. I always say “if I could do it in Spanish, doing it in English will be a breeze.” I know now that nothing ever really holds us back from leaving the country, except for our own fear of failure. Sure, our friends, our family, people that care about us may express concern, but if they know us well enough, and know that we know ourselves well enough, they will surely understand. It’s so important to conquer this fear of what is foreign, what is different from our own, to step out of the hard shells of our lives and see our world from a completely different view. It is only when we embrace our fears and doubts that we conquer them, only when we leave ourselves behind can we truly understand who we really are.
My last night in Spain, I sat on the edge of the Alhambra and looked out over the lights Granada. It was about two-o’clock in the morning, and the air was thick and humid with midsummer heat. There was a magnetic silence in the soft breeze, which blew every couple of seconds and brought with it the syncopated clapping of the flamenquistas in the caves of Sacromonte and the soft tones of guitars and laughter. I sat upon the ancient wall, my legs dangling over the edge of the city and contemplated the last six months of my life. Memories of people and scenarios flashed to mind, silly anecdotes and earth-shattering conversations, friendships that transcended the boundaries of language, culture and nationality, all textured with the smooth twist of Spanish. I laughed to myself as I wondered, how was it that I had come so far that even my memories were in a language different than my own? And so, as I looked out over the horizon behind me, I saw the outline of the Sierra Nevada mountains; the mountains with icing snow in the heat of summer were the only constant witness to my transformation, or rather, my affirmation into my own. In that moment, with the mountains, the soft music, the twinkling lights and the soft breeze, I knew that I was about to return to the United States a different woman.
At first during my travels abroad I made some very conscious decisions about the direction my semester would take. I avoided Americans and “American bars” as much as I could. I pushed myself to enter situations that may not have been very comfortable or familiar. But eventually I found myself naturally entering these situations, and becoming more comfortable in them than I could ever imagine.
One of my favorite memories of Granada occurred at about 5-o’clock in the evening on a Tuesday. My friends and I were sitting at a table in a plaza, drinking tea and discussing music. We are all from different countries: Mostafa from Syria, David from Spain, Rashim from Morocco, Rachel- a Lebanese American, Ben and Naomi from Israel, and Toli from “The Soviet Union.” We all spoke different languages, so Spanish was our common tongue. About midway through our discussion, it occurred to me how strange our situation must’ve appeared. Technically, all of our countries were afraid of each other. Technically, we were supposed to hate each other, to hold against each other the grudges and fears of our own nation. I remembered my own feelings of fear of the middle east while watching American news media, and I smiled ironically as I looked around the table. Yes, I was surrounded by people with histories, cultures, political and religious beliefs that were perhaps drastically different than my own, but there we sat. We acknowledged the common humanity that we all possessed, and forgave each other for the sins of our countries. It was as if we were able to transcend the boundaries and limits of culture, society, politics and fear. To me, that’s what studying abroad is really about.
It’s hard to say exactly how my study abroad experience changed me, or when exactly this change began to occur. I left the United States that day in January with one overwhelming emotion: fear. I was terrified of being alone in a foreign country, terrified of being away from my friends and my family, terrified of being surrounded by a new culture and most of all terrified of failing. But if anyone had told me to get off the plane and go home, I wouldn’t have. There was something stirring inside, deeper than the fear and the preoccupation of leaving my country behind: it was the promise of a viewing a new and different world. What I found, however, was not that I was able to view the world through the narrow lens of an American student, but rather I was able to look into my own life through the vast lens of the world.
My trip to Granada was about conquering my fears and accepting and understanding myself as an independent and capable individual. I always say “if I could do it in Spanish, doing it in English will be a breeze.” I know now that nothing ever really holds us back from leaving the country, except for our own fear of failure. Sure, our friends, our family, people that care about us may express concern, but if they know us well enough, and know that we know ourselves well enough, they will surely understand. It’s so important to conquer this fear of what is foreign, what is different from our own, to step out of the hard shells of our lives and see our world from a completely different view. It is only when we embrace our fears and doubts that we conquer them, only when we leave ourselves behind can we truly understand who we really are.
posted by Jessica @ 12:20 PM
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