SPAIN GETS RICH

Thursday, October 17, 2013

The Perfect Shampoo

When I was fourteen years old, I discovered the "perfect shampoo", and once I found the one that made my hair exactly the way I wanted it, my family started to buy it... in Costco sizes. The orange bottle will forever be an ingrained image in my brain when I think of my early teenage years. Forget using my friends' shampoo after sleepovers, and god forbid hotel products.

I remember asking my mom in August of 2012, before I embarked on the biggest adventure of my life, if she could send me my "perfect shampoo" periodically throughout the year. I was days away from getting on a plane, immersing myself in a new language, meeting a completely strange family, leaving everything I knew and loved, and I swear to god that was one of my biggest predicaments.

I got to Spain and I ultimately faced what would have been my biggest fear, that my travel sized shampoo bottles were not going to last me through the next ten months. I parked myself on the bathtub ledge, and sat there. I contemplated. There were three bottles. Yellow. Blue. White.

I chose white, but only because there was no orange option. Of course. I patiently awaited my possible horrific first day of school in Valladolid, Spain, where I was expected to start school the next morning. To my surprise, my hair looked, perfect, maybe even better. I was a little uncomfortable, straying off the path a bit, but to say the least, it was worth it.

I asked my new host family what kind of shampoo it was, so I could buy some later that evening.

It was dog shampoo.

I kid you not, my biggest problem in life was that I was leaving my "perfect shampoo", and ends up there is foreign dog shampoo that i had just said was a comparable match.

I learned a few things from this awfully embarrassing hair crisis.

First, I need to raise my standards.

Second, I ended up using whatever random shampoo product my host family bought that week, and I realized the real importance of this situation. There was none. I have learned to embrace every bad hair day with a grain of salt, and i guess I've learned to take that risk. Maybe sometimes that means choosing the white shampoo bottle, or sometimes that means spending your junior year in Spain.

Through and through, I have come to realize that sometimes all you really need is a little hotel shampoo to keep you humble.

It's good to be home.

Monday, May 6, 2013

Camino de Santiago 2013

There are a lot of easy-way-out's in life, a million get out of jail free cards, and more than not I have managed to take advantage of that. Now this trip to Galicia, where I was to walk 112 kilometers in five days, there was no getting out of that. I realized about five minutes into the whole thing that I, Meg Rich, was going to be walking every single one of those kilometers.

For the ones reading this who know me pretty well, they know "El Camino Santiago" is not exactly a trip I would be particularly excited for. I am not really the "hiking type" or the "outdoors type" or the "let's walk five days in the forrest type". Why I signed up for the trip? For that exact reason. I am not here in Spain to stay in my comfort zone, to experience things I already know and like. I am here to open up, try things that I had never even looked twice at. I am here to learn, and what better way then throwing yourself into something like this.

Looking back on this trip, I realize I learned a lot. I learned a lot about myself, about my life, and more importantly about who I am and who I want to become. Let me just reassure you though that I am not planning on going hiking anytime soon, now I haven't changed that much.

We began our journey through Galicia on March 22nd, in a town about thirty minutes outside of Lugo. The group was about 50 people in total, and around 30 exchange students from all over the world, studying in Spain. We were reunited, and more than anything ready to get started. I remember the first day being surprisingly easy, first of all because it was the first day, and we all had seven months worth of catching up to do. On the first day, no one had blisters, nor wet or dirty clothes, and most importantly everyone had gotten to sleep pretty early. As the days went on, the amount of blisters increased, as well as the amount of laundry. All I remember is waking up and sliding into my sopping wet sneakers, then walking downstairs to our breakfast, another morning of toast and milk. Let's just say by the third day, for the non-experienced hikers like me, it was getting old.

I was always one of the last people to get to the hostel at night, which I guess isn't very surprising. I was always somehow three times as soaked as well. Everyone was already clean, dry, and had made their trips to the nearby grocery store for late night snacks, while I was JUST finished my walking for the day. Now the last day we only had to walk 17 km, which at the time seemed too good to be true. We had been walking for about thirty minutes when we realized we were lost. It was too good to be true. I am not going to lie, at that point I was trying to convince Amy to call the volunteers, so that we could be picked up in the car and taken half of the way there. The others were about 10 km in front of us, or more. Amy denied my request, and no matter how slow I was going, no matter how much I complained, she encouraged me the entire way. We entered Santiago, what a relief. We were finally here, little did we know that we had to walk another hour through the hilly city to get to the Cathedral, the final steps of the Camino.

That final hour, was the most incredible hour of my life. Being so close to something you have worked so hard for. Taking those final steps up to the cathedral, turning around and seeing such a beautiful and historical site. To be standing there, where millions of others have stood before you, making the same incredible trek. It is breathtaking. I let out a few tears of joy and relief, and hey honestly a few tears of pain. We really soaked in the moment, and then headed to meet the group. We arrived two hours after everyone, but the arrival was so much more than who got there first. It was getting there. We all did it, I did it.

This trip in a lot of ways is a metaphor for my year in Spain. I can't tell you how hard it has been, from the rough start in the beginning, to the language barrier, to switching host families, cities, schools, to making friends, to learning to adapt to a new family, to more language barriers, and most of all to the constant longing for chipotle and panda express. A lot of it has been a struggle. It has been the easiest most difficult thing that I have ever done in my entire life. It has been the best and worst year of my life. There is no other way to explain it.

I am so incredibly proud of all of the AFSers who finished the Camino, and to myself for making it every kilometer of the way. There isn't a better feeling in the world than saying you are going to do something, fighting for it, and accomplishing it. Exactly how this year has felt. I have just recently passed the eight month mark, meaning that I have two months left and I will be back home in Alexandria, VA. I will have made it. I am close, but still very far away. And no matter how lost I have been, no matter how lost I get, I will make it all the way. So for now I will just keep on walkin.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Long Time, No Write

The last time I wrote was almost two months ago. I am so incredibly sorry for the long awaited blog posts, but it seems like as the time goes on, it just gets that much harder to find the inspiration to write. These past two months have been filled with amazing adventures and I can't even begin to explain how great things are in Valladolid.

Things are hard, but things are easy. Three months left on exchange, and I can't even begin to wrap my mind around the fact that soon I will be boarding the plane to come home. Three months is far off, but at the same time three months is absolutely nothing. I remember counting down the days before I left for Spain, I remember when there were five months left. Now look at me, three months away from returning to the city where I was born and raised, to finish up my senior year. Leaving behind all of my new friends, my family, and most importantly my country.

I will try and post some update posts from my trips to Segovia, and Galicia (Camino de Santiago) over the next few weeks. I will try, but I won't make any promises. At the beginning of my trip, I honestly thought the most important thing was that I needed to document every detail, I needed to keep everyone updated. But in reality, I need to live. I need to live every moment, and not let one second go. Because the minutes are limited here in Spain, and I need to take advantage of every single one.

These past two months I have been learning how to do that, I have been learning to take advantage. To take advantage is to not let go of an opportunity. One of my favorite spanish words is "Aprovechar". "Aprovechar" is "to take advantage of". I end up using this word a lot, because it is so relevant to my life. It has become relevant to my life, but I have realized that whether in Spain or not, it should have always be a commonly used word.

Now why has it taken me so long to start writing again? For the exact reason why people don't have blogs. People write when they have something to say. When they have news to tell. No one thinks that people want to hear about daily life. And life here has become daily. Life here is unbelievable, but it is normal. I wake up, I go to school, I hang out with my family, I go out with friends, I go to sleep. Life is life. And I guess I have become adapted to life and culture, and I don't find myself in as many awkward situations, funny stories, or even as confused about the culture or language. I find myself living just like I lived ten months ago in America, only new and improved.

I hope you all understand that life is great, and Mom please remember that no news, is good news.

Mid-Stay Orientation (The truth behind the name change)

This orientation, we were in a much smaller group, and instead of meeting in Ponferrada, we met in Valladolid. My city. The other kids from our chapter got there on Friday night, but Paige, Esther and I arrived at the youth hostile Saturday morning. We arrived to a group of about eight kids begging us to bring snacks from our houses. Apparently the dinner the night before had been pretty bad. We settled into our rooms, Paige and I ended up in the boys room... which was trashed, and on top of that just smelled like boys. After making our beds, we all went downstairs to the room where all of the activities would take place.

The first activity was to draw ourselves, a way to introduce ourselves to the group. We then had to surround our picture with certain things that explain our lives, or just things we love to do. I started to draw my objects, of course the first thing I drew was my cheer bow and pom poms. I realized after I'd finished that that particular thing is no longer significant in my life, nor explains who I am. Yeah I can tell people I play sports in America, but here that means nothing. I went three years of my life being defined by three sports, and now I have begun to realize that they mean nothing. They don't actually define me, I am so much more than that. I am Megg, I speak Spanish, I love to take pictures and make videos, I would love to travel the world, and learn to speak every language. I love food, and more than that I love the culture and the stories that come along with each plate. I love meeting people, but most of all I love getting to know people. I love that here in Spain, I can be a person known for and appreciated by my personality, my attributes, instead of my sports and grades.

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So, I wrote this beginning section at the end of january, so I can't give you exact details on each activity but I will try and give you an overview.

Now, there were a lot of significant moments throughout the weekend, but one of the biggest, a moment that will stick with me forever, was when I decided to change my name back to Meg. If you didn't already know, my name is Margaret, but I was born with the nickname Meg, with one G. When I was in seventh grade I decided Meg, just wasn't good enough. Also, take into account that seventh grade was the worst year of my life. Anyways, I started spelling my name with two G's. Which I loved, honestly everyone loved it. By the time I got to high school, no one even remembered that it was originally spelled with one G. As you are hearing this story, I am sure you are thinking wow this girl is crazy, who cares how many G's she has in her name? I guess I care. And that is the reason for the name change, because I don't need two G's to be original, to be cool, to be different, to be more Me. My name is Meg, and I am one hundred percent sure that I can be those things with our without the G. The extra G is irrelevant. But after four years I finally began to realize that what I needed was an attitude change and a confidence boost, not a G. So as you see, the last G is crossed off in the picture above, signifying the Meg, not the new one, but the original one.

Overall, the weekend was amazing. Getting together with my fellow AFSers is always a pleasure, and it is so sad to think our last orientation is this coming May. But I thank every single one of you, for helping me realize who I am, and I who I am striving to become. I am so lucky to have you all by my side, I don't know what I would do without you.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Carnavales 2013

"Carnaval" which would be translated to Carnival (Feb 11), is a holiday celebrated across the world, mainly Europe. I am sure there is some actual historic, maybe religious, reason for it all, but I am not the person to come to for historic explanations. For the people of my age group in Spain, it is a weekend of dressing up in crazy costumes, and going out on the town. I went out with a few friends, and met more as the night went on. We went to a few disco's and had a great time. I found that Carnavales here are more like our Haloween. The costumes are a lot of the times cute and fun, I didn't see any scary costumes, or ridiculously funny (I had two friends to dress up like chickens).

The Friday before the Monday of Carnaval, I went shopping for a costume. We walked into the costume shop, which was literally called Party Fiesta, and I was instantly overwhelmed. Costumes flying everywhere, there were so many people I barely had room to breathe. After an hour of GPS and trying to find the right store, I spent two hours searching for the right costume. Ultimately to pick the simplest one I could find. I decided to be a bumble bee, buy a yellow tutu and wings, then add leggings. Easy, and well.. just easy. I was kind of dissapointed in myself for lack of a better idea, but I think overall my first Carnaval was a success.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Fifty Percent

half way through.

five months in Spain. five to go.

While the first five have been full of everything new and exciting, learning the language, understanding the culture, the next five will be all about embracing it. Embracing it all as if it were mine. Because it has become mine.

I have realized that a lot of times when I am speaking, I talk with questions. "I had a great day?". "I brought you candy from the kiosk?". "Around four, I am going to the gym?". The real reason I speak with questions, is because I'm not sure. I am still embarrassed to speak, even if most of the time what I am saying is correct.

And culturally, it was hard in the beginning. Because not only am I learning a new culture, but a new lifestyle. A new way of doing everything, and most of the time i even screw up the things I know how to do really well. My first five months here have been all about learning.

My last five months here will be all about living, about experiencing, about really becoming me. I found that without fluency in a language it is extremely hard to be the person you are, or even trying to be. Sometimes you can't even explain where you are, or ask where the flour is at the grocery store. Imagine trying to have a heart to heart with someone, or imagine trying to tell a joke to your friends at school. It's hard to connect with people, hard to get further than the "hey, what's up" conversation with a lot of people.

But when the language comes, and the culture sinks in, it gets so much easier. You start to understand why people do this, why they say that, and most of all you start to follow along.

At the start of February, I finally got around to joining a gym. It doesn't seem like a big step, but it took me about three months to "get around to it". I might need to mention the fact that it is literally right across the street from my house. I started last Tuesday, and I have gone almost everyday since. First of all, to work off all of the food I ate over Christmas break, and secondly because I just needed something to do. I've found that after a long day, it is also a great stress reliever. And to top it all off, it makes me feel a lot better about leaving my sports behind in the US.

AFS Castilla y Leon Chapter in Valladolid (La Plaza Zorilla)

And a few weekends ago we had our mid-stay AFS orientation. It is ridiculous how the time has flown, and I'm positive July 1st will come in no time. Meaning, I only have a little bit left, so the objective is to make the most of it all while I still can.

So as I begin the second half of my exchange, I keep in mind how much has changed, how much has progressed, and I realize how much more I have to change, and how much more progress there is to be made. I may be efficient in the Spanish language, and I may be understanding the culture a lot more, but there is and will always be more for me to learn.

I take into account all of the good and bad moments, everything that has gotten me to the half way mark, and I put it all behind me. It will all take part in the person I am becoming, but to dwell on the past, is to not be living in the present, therefore I am ready to live all of the good and bad that awaits.

fifty percent, half way there.