I am in mourning. I sit here in this building that has so quickly become my home, next to a friend that has begun to feel like family, which terrifies me. I search my mind for the words and definitions for every emotion I am feeling and beg it to form sentences that could convey just what these past three weeks have meant to me. I feel betrayed by my own heart, for allowing myself to become so attached to this place and these nine people so quickly. 

Barcelona was never somewhere I felt called to. It was a spur-of-the-moment idea and a last-minute decision. I supposed the timing was right, a big adventure to kick off my senior year. I thought three weeks would be long enough to enjoy sites and not get too homesick. However, I was not prepared for the way I would be impacted by this city, as though I were hit by a city bus full of emotions and excitement. 

From the vibrant buildings, old and new, to the passion for food, music, and culture, I was at home. I fell in love with each part of the city and all the unique characteristics it has. I woke up excited to uncover some hidden gem the locals love or see something touristy and obvious, eager to savor every sound, smell, or meal that was always served with pride and care. Barcelona taught me more about myself in three weeks than I had ever learned in three years of college. 

I yearn for the smell of the streets, the aroma of damp cobblestones and cigarettes. I long for the independence and peace I found even as I stood amongst massive crowds of people, all going about their day. I ache for a two-dollar coffee and croissant before heading to class, feeling inspired by the world and peers around me. 

Each person is different, contrasting against the others, yet so similar you can predict their next move. And each person has found themselves in love, ready to move and die for this city that we have inhabited for three weeks. We know the metro lines like the veins under our skin, always drumming quietly in us. We frequent our favorite spots, drinking from fountains and pretending to be locals so that one day our wish may come true. We venture to unknown places on unplanned outings and journey together in unison, laughing at each wrong turn and stopping for every coffee, photo, or random gift shop. 

I haven’t had many opportunities to connect with people in this way; I have always found new friendships to be fleeting and temporary once you leave your childhood bubble. But with this particular group, I feel a connection that just might last forever. To my familia, words aren’t enough to express how much I love each of you, and can’t wait until we are all together in Barcelona again.

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Students studying abroad are often told they will experience some amount of culture shock. The different languages and foods may initially be overwhelming and are often warned of homesickness. But for me, this has not been the case. While discovering how to get around and practicing a few phrases in Spanish have been a learning curve, I have realized that most of the cultural differences here actually make more sense.

Barcelona is a big, bustling city filled with tourists and people from all over. It’s a cultural hotspot, and despite the number of people in the city, the streets remain fairly clean. This is partially due to the fact that on every street you will find multiple containers designated for each variety of recycling. Barcelona also has a custom of recycling bags for purchases, most of them being paper or canvas. The practice of utilizing recyclable products is very common, and this helps to eliminate litter. It’s these environmentally conscious efforts that help keep one of the busiest, oldest cities clean.

Students traveling abroad are also warned of jet lag. But the time zone change did not stand out to me nearly as much as the meal times in Barcelona did. Dinner starts after 8 pm, much later in the evening than I am used to. Businesses are open later and some don’t close until sunrise. This stood out to me so significantly, because I can’t even order a Happy Meal from my usual McDonalds past 10 pm.

I would say that the locals are quieter and more reserved than any American you meet. Often times I find our group laughing and having a good time, only when the laughter dies do you realize how quiet the room is. We constantly remind ourselves to be on our best behavior and to not be “typical Americans”. It’s not as though the locals are quiet out of reservation, but more out of peacefulness. They sit quietly at patio tables, sipping their drinks and pensively people-watching. You can always tell who is a local and who is a tourist because of this.

Another huge thing I have loved is the availability of public transportation. At first, I was hesitant to ride the metro or any bus, but after living here for a week I have come to realize how helpful it truly is. I have fallen in love with morning metro rides, accompanied by my cappuccino and croissant. I love the simple act of inserting my ticket into the slot and walking through the gate as if part of me belongs here. Lining the streets are motorbikes waiting for someone to rent them, and taxis ready to take you home.

Barcelona is such an innovative city, that strives to make environmentally sound efforts and maintain historic sites while keeping up with technological advancements. I think more than anything I appreciated the combination of old and new buildings, all covered in street art and embracing individuality. Every day you discover something new and unique to Barcelona’s culture.

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