¡Vamos a Ethpaña!

Coincidentally, I found out some life-changing news exactly three weeks before I depart the country – that I have deep personal ties to my home for the next four months. That’s right: I am an entire ONE-SIXTEENTH Spanish. Not only does this add to my diversity cred (because unfortunately, no, I’m not part-Asian), but it means that I am returning to my homeland for my fall semester.  This is not just studying abroad. This is a journey to the origins of my ancestors. This is fate.

[End melodramatic hook.]                             

Or it’s the random start of an amazing adventure which in itself is only half of the epic that will be my junior year of college.  First off, I’m heading to Salamanca, Spain, to be followed (only chronologically) by a semester in Washington, DC.  And no, this is not the result of any discontent with Santa Clara University.  In fact, I’m so grateful that SCU is providing me with these opportunities to get real-world experience with my two majors: Political Science and Spanish.  I’ve had an amazing two years there thus far, and I’ll be excited to get back to everyone there by the time senior year rolls around.

That’s why I’m writing this. Because of these coming adventures, that means I probably won’t be seeing you all that much in the next year, my dear family and friends (and perhaps, random stalker?). Maybe this isn’t too far from the norm, since college/life has already separated plenty of you from me geographically.  However, I am writing this blog as an attempt to keep in touch with all of you (i.e. not be completely forgotten), as I process and share my experiences outside of northern California (and also because mi madre requested it).  

Now, with less than a week left until my departure, I realize that I’ve been spending months saying goodbye to people in preparation for this trip.  From moving out of the dorms to chatting with my neighbors, I have repeated the phrase, “Well, I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but…” far too much.  It’s gotten to the point where I don’t believe that I’m ever going to actually leave, let alone spend such a long time in extremely foreign places (such as the East Coast).  That is, until I sit down with a to-do list that just keeps growing twice as fast as I can accomplish my tasks.  Then I get antsy, and walk off to play guitar or spend time with friends, as I try to avoid the stress of packing. Ah, procrastination.

I’ve also repeated, “Just come visit me in Spain!” far too often with far too little success. You lazy bums.

(And yes, I would use a Radiohead reference as the title of my blog, and you knew it. Congratulations!)