The Latest from Spain

Sep 8 5:50pm
Barcelona

Songs of a Troubled Paradise

by Max

“Ohla! Ohla! Estás aquí?” slam thud thud “OHLA!”

I pop an eye open, face glued to the mattress. “Sí! Sí! Estoy aquí!” I’m still recovering from a rather unsettling dream involving the slow mastication of my feeble body in the web of a million spiders, but I manage to roll over and glance out of my new room onto the patio— sun berating hot red tile, florescent chairs glistening vibrantly, me wearing one sock and a ragged tank top. “Uno momento por favor!”

Aug 31 6:16am
Salamanca

Finding a comfort zone abroad

by Natalie

I have always maintained a relatively small comfort zone. 

When my parents first dropped me off at preschool (age 3), I refused to get out of the car, then cried, then sat on the slide for hours until my teacher convinced me to make mud pies with her in the sandbox and I begrudgingly agreed. This daily routine continued for about three months, crying and slide-moping and all, until I finally developed a sense of comfort in this brand new place.

Aug 30 8:17pm
Barcelona

Predeparture Painting & Procrastination

by Sallie

Hi everyone, my name is Sallie and I will be studying abroad in Barcelona, Spain for the next three and a half months! I only have one more full day left until my departure, so I have been frantically running errands, making lists, and throwing really unnecessary things into suitcases. During this exciting time, I have been painting to calm my nerves and ease all the anxieties that come along with moving to a country I’ve never been to before (and it’s a great way to procrastinate packing).

Aug 30 7:04pm
Barcelona

Barcelona Ain’t Ready… Or Maybe That’s Just Me

by Max

Bulky, olive and brutish, frays schism and cleave at every corner. Hard plastic worn smooth. Metal neatly pinched together. It waits, patient and tranquil, unrelenting and demanding, prepared to be prepared. 

Aug 26 12:01am
Madrid

Why I am going to Madrid, Spain

by Michael

When I was young, my abuelita would lay down next to me before I went to sleep and do four things: she’d tell me how much she loved me, she’d tickle me all over, she’d pray to La Virgencita to watch over me, and she’d tell me a story. I remember many of her stories—stories of past loves, of my mother when she was a child, of life in Colombia. They were always very colorful, fun, and meaningful—the perfect way to end the day.