Life Abroad: Week Three
This special room of memories
This week passed by unremarkably. But one remarkable thing that happened is that Karah is in Madrid finally! For my readers that don’t know, Karah is my best friend from high school and one of few people I still hang out with from FHE. Because she goes to Indiana, our updates are usually communicated through texts every few weeks and long Ada drives sipping Meijer slushies over the holiday. So, my worlds are colliding; it’s amazing finally having a semester to spend and live life with her. And in all places, in Spain. Kindergarten Rachel and Karah could’ve never imagined this would be in the cards for us. Our luck is immense.
Karah, Casey, and I got churros with cups of chocolate from San Gines on Tuesday night and I beamed while Karah and Casey chatted away. It’s always a bit intimidating to introduce friends from your different life spaces to each other but the three of us chatted about Greek life and Karah taking classes fully in Spanish (gasp, but she’s a spanish double major). Something I really enjoy about coming to a foreign country while other abroad people are here is that everyone is down to hang out and make friends because no one really has that many (Is this what life after college will be like when I move to another city?). I’ve gotten drinks and dinner and gone to random events with people whom I had never said hi to or known of in Ann Arbor. In doing so, we’re creating this space of time, adorning each with new memories, particular senses and feelings.
When I think about this in my head here’s how I picture it. The inside of my brain takes the shape of a house made up of different rooms. There’s a room filled with memories from my hometown and high school: running to my minivan after Model UN to race people to Wendy’s, blazing pink sunsets at football stadiums where I always lost my voice for no reason. There’s a room in the house for each place I’ve lived in Ann Arbor: the freshman one tastes like cheap vodka and microwave mac and cheese and smells like hairspray and it’s blue, dark blue. My room from from sophomore year is colored with playtime always and walking to Dairy Queen and cleaning on Sunday morning and the incense we lit in the living room; it’s sitting on our beloved porch watching the sun go down together, talking about life and drinking tequila+limeade huddled around the lantern. When I picture junior year, it’s creaky wood floors and texting the house gc because I forgot my key; it’s going to Sreya’s room to unpack the events of the night while making Trader Joes appetizers in the toaster oven. It’s crying from stress and drinking a lot at tailgates, on weekends, and making new, younger friends, and it’s red. If you can’t tell, I’m feeling quite nostalgic right now. This image is the same concept as the house in Taylor Swift’s Lover music video, so if my rendition didn’t suffice just go watch that.
If you couldn’t tell, I love writing about the feelings and moments of the past because I can warp it to be as beautiful as I want it to be. My description of the room bubbles above in my head is just romanticized versions of past pockets of time in my life. As humans we love romanticizing the past (to a fault. A quote from the book I’m reading paints this really well: “..the heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and [that] thanks to this artifice we manage to endure the burden of the past”). While it’s not good to dwell on the past so we don’t live the present, I think as humans it’s lovely that we’re able to remember all these beautiful things better than they actually were at the time. I don’t care if it’s just my mind playing a trick on me; romanticizing life is the way I put my best foot forward with a smile on my face.
I hope that when I think back on Madrid and see this particular room in my head, I see sunrises and sunsets. Sore but smiling feet after days spent walking around cities with cobbled sidewalks. Long conversations with Casey, new amigos from university. Deep gratitude and grace for everything and everyone I’ve been lucky enough to meet here and the people I’m lucky enough to have and miss back home. Going somewhere new really does make you appreciate the comfort of what you already have. And I hope the room is green, my favorite color. The color of serenity and growth.
As I’ve met all these new people, I’ve also found myself being extra conscious about the words I’m using and how I’m presenting myself. This might sound like I’m insecure, but really I’m using it more as a self-improvement exercise: trying to eliminate filler words, using people’s names in conversation, making better eye contact. I’d fallen into the prey of comfort with my friends back home, so it’s fun being able to meet new people and be more alert this way. Part of the reason why it can be fun is because it’s the potential of all the things that could happen, in the same way as flirting and first dates. Really, a lot of the reason why studying abroad was so appealing was the potential for change and growth. I read an awesome article about this earlier in the week.
Some things I’ve done this week:
My university didn’t have class for some reason on Wednesday so there was an event at Le Botique on Tuesday night. Turns out the boys in MY MAJOR (Information systems) planned and executed this event for the whole uni which is hilarious because they spend all class texting on WhatsApp and playing computer games and never seem to know what is going on. Casey and I met up with Raymond there briefly and we bought way too expensive drinks (15 euros each :( ) and danced. The club played all American music (Pop Smoke, Plug Walk) which was funny. Here when you sign up for clubs, the ticket will usually say what type of music they’re playing (EDM, Reggateon, or Comercial which is American). It was quite strange to see kids from my classes at the clubs and overall a very fun Tuesday night.
There’s this hidden gem spot where you can get cookies from nuns in this random alleway that’s quite hard to find. You put the money on the turntable and spin it around and they put your cookies on it. You never speak to the nuns or see them, the only thing you say is what flavor cookies you want. We got vanilla with powdered sugar but honestly the cookies were not very good.
Watched lots of sunsets. One at the palace/cathedral, one in Toledo, one at the park.
Ate the best tacos of my life. It was so good, we went there again on Sunday. If you’re ever in Madrid, go to Takos Al Pastor: the line is worth it and they’re 1 euro each. Get the pastor taco.
Took a day trip to Toledo where we went to Santa Iglesia Catedral, Mirador de la Valle, and Puente de Toledo.
Attempted to go out on Thursday night with Karah and Casey, ended up not finding anything and instead went to 5 guys and got burgers. How american of us.
Update on roommates is that another blackout night has happened, resulting in a facial scar (stitches required) and black eye, shattered phone, and lost credit card. Third times the charm?
That’s all for now. It was not the most exciting week, but this is also not vacation for four months. I have to constantly remind myself: I’m living here. Real life is bound to be monotonous at times, and there’s a beauty in that. It’s pretty remarkable to say that I’m living in Madrid; that in and of itself, is enough for now.
Thanks for reading, happy living.
With love,
Rachel
