The last of España.

Now that I've been home for a few days and am nearing the end of my battle with jet lag, I will post the last pictures from Spain.  

Full moon!

This little french bull dog would be sitting on the window sill of this window almost every night when I would walk home for dinner.  He was always excited to see you.  He would never bark, but when you went to pet him, little snorts of contentment (characteristic of these short snouted doggies) uncontrollably escaped him.  

Not sure who exactly took this one, but whoever did, good job.

On one of our last nights there one of the host families threw us a costume party complete with seventeen tortilla españolas and a BUCKET of sangria.  I know that some people were worried about finding a costume on such short notice, but almost everyone dressed up.  Fun was had all around!

On the Friday before we left, we hopped the border into Marvão, Portugal.  It really was a city on a hill.  (A very big hill...)  The view was spectacular and out of all the castles that we were lucky enough to see, the one on the hill in Marvão was the most preserved and complete.  It was all so breathtaking.  

Near the castle in Marvão there was a beautiful garden.  There were gorgeous brightly colored flowers everywhere.  

One last walk up to La Coria for the farewell reception.  

At the reception.

After the reception some of us decided to take a walk down to the ruins of a eleventh century church.  Our farewell sunset gave me goosebumps.

The staircase of the church was still completely intact, most likely due to the fact that it was inside a tunnel-type structure.  So, of course we climbed the stairs to see where they led.  They brought us to the top of the skeleton of what was left of the building.  It seemed so surreal.

Photo Cred: Kelsey.

On top of the church with the castle in the background.  Nice one Kelsey!

This is the view from the outside and bottom of where we had climbed up.  The photo doesn't quite do it justice.

This is my little host sister Maria and her older cousin Loretto.  I was pretty sad because I didn't feel like I had gotten the chance to say goodbye to them and tell them how much I had grown to think of them as my little sisters.  (I don't have any sisters in real life.)  After the farewell reception my parents were headed to a party so Maria went to Loretto's house and Angela, the baby, went to her grandparents' for the night.  I had resigned to the fact that I wouldn't get the chance to say goodbye to them.  After the reception, experiencing the ruins, and an obligatory last night ice cream cone, I was saying goodbye to some friends.  I was going to go back home to finish packing.  Mid-sentence I felt a shy tug on the bottom of my dress, and as I turned around I saw Maria eating an ice cream cone behind me.  Loretto's mom had brought them to the plaza that night, and somehow, she had found me.  So I hugged her and told her all the things I had wanted to.  She had been six-year-old best friend, confidant, and companion. Loretto joined us and I had a friend snap this photo.  It's easily one of my favorite photos from the trip.  Shortly after they left me to return to their games and playing with all the other little girls, I cried.  In the plaza, in front of everyone.  That's when it hit me that these beautiful gracious people let me just waltz into their lives and it was time for me to walk right back out.  I was heartbroken.  A fragment of my heart will always be in Spain.

The morning I left for Spain I woke up at six in the morning to take care of all my last minute packing and make sure that everything was all tied up in a perfect little bow, so to speak.  While showering, I felt short.  I'm a pretty average heighted individual, so I haven't had that sensation since I was a child.  And even then, I don't have any recollection of the feeling.  I counted the shower tiles to give me some sort of measurement to feel grounded in.  Fourteen small blue shower tiles.  That's how tall (or short) I was that morning.  Any time that I was in Spain and felt unsure of myself, I thought of those little blue tiles.

In the Albuquerque Airport, I said goodbye to my mom, my grandma, my boyfriend, and the city I've known most of my life.  As I boarded the plane, it all hit me.  This was really happening, and there was no turning back now.  What a scary but invigorating feeling.  It's like the anticipation you feel when you're on a roller coaster and you can feel it climbing up the first big hill one. small. lurch. at a time.  Usually, when I'm on a plane and it's taking off I'm that person that holds their breath and closes their eyes until you're "safely" in the air.  Not this time.  Eyes wide open, I stared out the window as Albuquerque shrunk, then faded from view.  I left the window open the whole time.  I don't know if I've ever felt anything so surreal as being in an airplane at however many thousand feel and watching the sun rise and set.  It was then and there that I decided that this was not the time to be afraid, that this trip I would LIVE every moment that I was there.  I think I did a pretty good job of keeping that promise to my self.

While in Spain I met some people that have changed my life.  They've changed the way that I view myself and others.  I learned not only about the Spanish language, culture, literature, and cinema, but I've also had my share of life lessons.  I now have a pretty good chunk of student debt, but I would not trade this experience for the world.

So now I'm home, thrown back into my reality of current joblessness and everything that comes with that.  I wasn't ready yet.