Adios, Valencia

FSU Valencia Summer Session 2

     As I’m sitting here writing this, it all becomes clear that it is all over now. The best summer of my life is in the past and all I can do is replay the memories left in my head and smile. As they play, I see the faces of those who have come into my life and taught me so much about myself in this short month. The ones who have taught me to care less of the opinions of others, rather to care more of the opinions of myself. As cliché as it may be, I have truly learned more about myself in this past month than I have in 21 years of my life. The learning comes with maturing and realizing that I can no longer be completely selfish. It is important to remember the choices I make in life reflect upon those around me, such as my family.

     I cannot thank my family enough for this incredible opportunity they have allowed me to experience. It was worth every cent and more. I only wish they could have been there to experience it with me. Homesickness hit me over the last couple weeks I was in Valencia. I thank God for it though, because I realize now that some people are not blessed with a family to miss.

     So what now, you say? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind. It’s unclear what my life holds for me. I have a strange feeling, though, that there are good times ahead. No more merely surviving, but instead it’s time to thrive. They say, “You only get out what you put it,” well I think it’s time for me to find out just what I can get.

It's not ‘goodbye,’ Europe. It’s a ‘see yah later.’

The Power House – Then and Now

The Colosseum - Panoramic View 

My heart was captured this weekend. Captured by an ancient love for history, culture, food, and spirit. Rome has been calling my name for years now, but I had never expected the welcome that I received. Two steps out of the airport I was surrounded by beauty. People left and right draped in high-end fashion that I could only dream of wearing. The essence of them left me standing with my jaw to the floor. I’m not saying every Roman walked as if they had the world at their fingertips, but the ones that did made me feel as if they could conquer it effortlessly. The confidence they held is not to be confused with cockiness, but instead, should be admired.

My favorite time of day was dinner. My first meal in the ancient city consisted of a recipe just as old. This spaghetti with marinara sauce was literally to die for; not kidding, I would have taken a bullet for it. It amazes me how recipes so old that were passed down through generations can still, to this day, be just as incredible.

Though my love for this city was already growing rapidly, it was set in when I came upon the ancient ruins of the Palantine Hill. I stood there in awe at the sight of this once “power house” of a city that now is only rubble on the ground. Its memory, though, is as strong as ever. The best part, though, was when I stood at the top of the hill and looked out over the ancient streets and pictured men and women, alike, draped in beautiful gowns. Chariots filled the streets and people from all ends of the land gathered at the coliseum to see the gladiators fight for their lives. So much has changed since the ancient times, but the people are still as lively and passionate about their city as ever.

It reminds me of America, at its best. We all come together at times of trouble, or celebration, but we lack the everyday love for our country and the traditions we hold. We celebrate Independence Day once a year and Memorial Day once a year, but what happened to the days when everyone flew flags outside of their homes? How often do we say the Pledge of Allegiance and actually mean it? We are given so much in this country and don’t think twice about where it all came from and the struggle it took to get us this far. In the book titled Strays, by Jeanne Webster, she compares each person’s life to the stitching of a blanket. This concept can even be applied to the USA. If you look on one side you see knots and tangles of thread, but if you look from the other, all you see is the beautiful pattern. If we always look at our country from the one side, we can never witness it from above and see the beauty that it really is. I know this is a very simple concept, but if we all just take a step back every now and then and see all that this country has to offer, maybe we’ll begin to appreciate it a bit more. After all, George Washington didn’t even expect this country to last more than twenty years – two hundred thirty eight years later and we’re only just getting started. 

I'll Be Comin' 'Round the Mountain

 

In the Mountains of Spain

     Mountains are always intimidating. Everything about them suggest a challenge. They remind you that you are a mere speck in their valleys as they look out over the rest of the world. This weekend I faced the challenge of climbing to the top of one of the mountains in Eastern Spain. The view from the top was incredible to say the least. Describing the feeling that came over me as I looked out over the land is almost impossible. It felt as though I had no limit. I felt unconquered and genuinely proud of myself for the first time in a very long while. It may sound dramatic giving this much credit to one hike up a small mountain, but for me it stands as a metaphor for the goals I wish to accomplish in my life. If one mountain can be conquered, then why stop there? 

     Though the view was unmistakably perfect, the climb to the top was everything but. At the lowest part of the mountain the path was wide with a soft uphill stroll. As we got higher, though, the rocks became loose and the once easy stroll became strenuous. Many times I caught myself as the rocks beneath me made for a less-than-trusting path. Surrounding me were metaphors of my life: The uneven pathway that began to narrow; the rollercoaster-like motion of the mountains' many bumps; even the view as we climbed higher and higher. At one point I became frustrated with the fact that this route was taking us back down after just having climbed halfway up. This is when a friend informed me that she had always heard that in order to climb a mountain, you must go both up and down before reaching the top. 

     This may not have been the largest mountain in the world, but it was an adventure I'll never forget. The sore legs and beads of sweat only left me itching for more. In due time, I hope to be given the chance to climb a taller one. I can only imagine the view from there.

My First Impression

View of Valencia atop the Torres de Serrano

They always tell you, “Look before you leap.” Well the truth is, I was never given that chance. My once in a lifetime chance to escape the sheltering walls of my small rural town was quickly passing. So as one would expect, I leaped. I flew with the clouds beneath my knees for more than 12 hours, staring blankly into the seat in front of me as I nervously awaited my arrival in a whole new world.

            My first few hours in Valencia were spent acclimating to the sound of Spanish words and accents flowing smoothly from the natives’ mouths. With my less-than-impressive Spanish class history, it was, and still is, hard to understand most of everything they are saying. I have truly already gained respect for those who speak even a touch of English. They have taken the time to learn a second language in order to accommodate those who visit. It has encouraged me to push myself in my own way to learn Spanish in order to make it easier for those around me.

            Throughout my days here I have spent most of my time exploring every corner of this incredible city. Mostly getting lost on the metro trying to find my way back to the Torres de Serrano, which stands as a signal that home is ahead. The getting lost, though, seems to be my favorite part. It is from experience that in order to find yourself, you must first get lost. For me, it was amongst the towering ancient architecture of Valencia. The most shocking part of my experience, though, is the fact that each of these buildings, however old, are to this day still filled with as much life and culture as they were one thousand years ago.

            Overall, it was the love for their culture and heritage that really caught my eye. Walking through the streets I witnessed women dressed in traditional Spanish dresses headed to a festival atop the Torres de Serrano. I witnessed couples salsa dancing in the middle of the sidewalks to classic Spanish music blasting from the parks. Even more, in every restaurant you were guaranteed to be proudly offered paella and Agua de Valencia. Witnessing the cultural preservation of the city and its treasures is incomparable. This was an irrevocably perfect first impression that has been bestowed upon me, and for that I am forever grateful.