Thinking Back A Little

It's the end of the six-week program, and the time between now and the beginning seems close and yet far, like an elastic band that lengthens and contracts depending on the amount of focus I use.
   I was having dinner with my Spanish family the other day, fresh shrimp and full-fried sardine fish, when my host brother, Jose, and  I reminisced about the day his father, Juan, and he picked me up from the bus stop.

      The conversation on the ride to their apartment began well, I knew how to say the                   pre-programmed "Hello, my name is...," and not much else besides simple conversational phrases that could only lead so far. It was interesting. I had been more than a little nervous, and the inadequacy of my knowledge of the Spanish language in turn made me feel inadequate. I soon forgot my self-centered pity, though, as I rapidly became familiar with my family, began picking up the language, and generally settled in. 

   I traveled to the Albaycin, the Alhambra, the Mesquita in Cordoba, all beautiful historic locations, but also learned how to order a drink, and a tapa, make friends with the cafe owners and the spot my friend Grant and I would sit down at during out class break, begin conversations on the bus, and watch my Juan as he prepared a delicious three course lunch consisting of Salmorejo, papas fritas, and fried lamb. It was fantastic.
  Now I'm writing this blog with my bag half-packed, Juan in the kitchen preparing two boccadones (sandwiches, but with real Spanish bread) for my trip, and feeling a little nostalgic for the time I've spent here. I'm about to go spend another 2 weeks exploring the other parts of Spain (Madrid, Barcelona, Bilbao, San Sebastion, and even Toulouse, possibly), and thoroughly enjoy it. But I'll miss Granada, with its small-city feel, it's tapas, and the people I remember meeting.

It was a good trip.