Tomorrow will be my last day in the United States. It almost doesn't seem real to me. I will be away from my home, and everyone that I love for almost 4 months. No Wellesley, no Portland, nothing familiar. Even though I picked a school 3,000 miles away from my home state, I'm definitely a homebody. The idea of living with a new family, in a new country is just terrifying. I need to remember that this is something I need to do if I want to achieve my goal of being fluent in Spanish. However, knowing that I need to do it does not diminish the fear I feel. It's kind of funny since I bought a guide book for Great Britain a few days ago. I'm more excited about visiting my friends in the UK than I am for being in Spain. I'm hoping this will change once I arrive in Spain and I get to see how amazing it is there. The last time I was in Spain I was six years old. The only things I remember from that trip is the enormous dragon slide in Barcelona, the dragonflies, the huge pig carcasses hanging in the markets, and the paella. It's funny what memories will stick in the memory of a six year old.
The more I write here the more excited I get. I love speaking in Spanish. When I first came to Wellesley, I was so nervous throughout orientation. The only time I finally calmed down was when I went to the Spanish Language placement exam, and sat in the room for the people who placed out of the first two years of language courses, listening as the professors all spoke in Spanish. Immediately after that meeting, I called my mother and told her I wanted to be a Spanish major. She told me not to get too ahead of myself, but it turns out that I was right. Here I am, a Spanish and Medieval/Renaissance studies double major. And about to head off to España. Half of me is ready, half of me isn't. But it will be an awfully big adventure.
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