I hate the feeling I get when something is ending. It’s a rushed, frantic, neurotic feeling like I have to do EVERYTHING all at once. The only problem is that I’ve got 3.5 months. And most likely the summer (my parents are very pro-don’t-work-this-summer-and-we’ll-help-you-out-if-you-need-it), and all of next year. But it’s strange how I’ve really been getting the ganas to travel and get out of Sevilla. Even if it’s just for a day trip (the Monteros ruined my plans for a quick jaunt to Jerez to go to some bodegas and castles). I’m planning to get up to Salamanca and Valladolid with Kike to visit his former town and mine, then I’ll be in Germany for a few days to visit Eva, and I’ve got plans with Kate and Christine to go to Galicia in May for three days. But, I’ve been a crazy person dicking around on travel sites trying to figure out how to get to Amsterdam, Switzerland, Prague, Vienna and up to London to visit my cousin. I’m on country #18 of 25, and I’ve still got 2 1/2 years!
I read a friend’s blog, which had a recent update on Americanism. I have to admit, I feel really Spanish. I would choose shrimp and carne a la brasa over chicken fingers any day here. I relish in my midday siesta, and I stay as far away from Calle Betis as I can. It’s not that I don’t like other Americans. I just feel that I need to use this time to experience Spain. My whole weekend, I was with Spaniards – not to mention pretty much the only chick, which was actually fun. It gives me the chance to practice my Spanish and go to really great bars that aren’t in guidebooks. When I studied in Vdoid, I felt immersed in the culture because I lived with a family and Vdoid isn’t exactly a tourist draw. But being in Sevilla and having Spanish friends and looking forward to doing Spanish things has made me really love everything about the culture and the people and the language and the food. I went to McDonalds once with Eva, and Fridays once upon Kike’s request. I’m trying really hard to get into Spanish tv, like the dance program Fama. I’ve got my traje de flamenco and complementos. More importantly, I’ve got Spanish friends, which erases some qualms I had about living here next year. Which I’m pretty sure I’ll be doing.
So, America, you can’t have me back until June of 2009. Sorry.