Mallorcan Mensajes

Midway across the Atlantic, I see no better time to reflect on my experiences over the past three and a half months. In this literal and figurative transition between countries and cultures I find a mix of emotions. It’s tough to say a final goodbye to people and places, not knowing when or if I’ll ever return again, but amidst this difficulty, there is a sense of satisfaction in the way that I spent my time. I explored what Palma had to offer, took advantage of all opportunities to see new places, and enjoyed the many new friendships that I made. A common reflection over a long period of time is that, “it all went by in a flash”. I disagree with this statement. Sure, it’s still hard for me to believe that Christmas is two days away, but this doesn’t mean that I can’t accept the end of my study abroad experience. I enjoyed my classes, took my trips, had my fun and made the most of my cultural immersion. In this alone, I find closure.

At the start, I had my doubts about how our small group would impact the quality of my time in Palma. As I made clear in my early posts, it was tough to adjust to my new companions, but we eventually found equilibrium in our own individual schedules (and became close friends in the process). Freedom became my escape and I’m happy to have done a significant amount of escaping.

It all started with a spur of the moment 21-hour trip to Ibiza. Next was a group trip to Madrid, a two-day venture to Barcelona for Sensation, a long weekend in Sevilla (and Granada), another visit to Barcelona, another to Madrid (including Toledo), and finally a grand finale of London, Milan, Venice and Paris.

Traveling alone is something that many people avoid, but when given the opportunity, I think it’s a very rewarding thing to do. Buying tickets, finding hostels, and deciphering public transportation systems are all actions that are complicated by a language barrier. Out of necessity, passivity becomes hyper-observance and it’s in this observance where cultural differences are perceived.

Cultural differences are the most important aspect about studying abroad. Three and a half months isn’t long enough to completely understand a new culture, but it’s plenty of time to gain a new understanding of your own. In order to truly gain a sense of American culture, it needs to be seen through the eyes of a foreigner. We might think that countries of similar development levels have similar ways of life, but this is not the case. In the bubble that is our American lifestyle we’re too myopic to critique our own customs, positively or negatively. For example, after experiencing the Spanish professional culture, I have a new appreciation for the work ethic that is ingrained in American society. Sure, I learned plenty about Spanish culture in my day-to-day life, but having 20 years of American experience to compare it to, the emphasis is unconsciously placed on what I know.

Another drastic change for me was adjusting to city life. By choice, I go to school in the middle of nowhere, so I knew that I wanted something different from study abroad. Palma isn’t a huge city, but it’s a city nonetheless. Living in a small apartment with a Spanish host padre (Carlos), dealing with a 45 minute walking/metro commute to classes and just navigating crowded streets every day were all drastic changes to my lifestyle, and I’d be lying if I said that I’m not excited to go back to having a car, a room with windows and a two minute commute to class.

I think I’m so satisfied with my experience in Palma because I was constantly pushed out of my comfort zone and forced to adapt. New friends, new family, new language, new food, and a very different lifestyle all offered a challenge that I was forced to meet in order to survive the three and a half months. I needed to get out of my comfort zone to emerge a changed person, and I think I did exactly that. Study abroad is a personal journey and you truly get back what you put in. I’m content to say that I came to Palma with an open mind and a strong desire to use the tools at my disposal, and I feel that this mentality paid off. This chapter in my life might have come to a close, but I can say definitively that it has drastically altered the way that future chapters will be written.

Matt

Cultural Encounters Class

Goodbye to British friends

Eating Caracoles

Caracoles

Casual paella street snack

Marc

Cue the music: it’s the final countdown. My life wasn’t exciting enough to justify a post last Thursday so try not to be too upset with me. Lucky for you though, I have plenty of excitement from this past week to make up for it. Globetrotting Europe (Europetrotting?) for eight days is guaranteed to produce some interesting anecdotes, and I was certainly given my share. So call me Santa, I’m about to wrap them up and throw them under the tree.

My journey starts in a land far away where they speak a strange language called “English”. Once adjusted to the language shock, I must say that it was quite enjoyable to be able to communicate 100% of my ideas. Not that I had many people to communicate with though: yes, I stayed with my Colby roommate’s sister and her boyfriend in their apartment (which was awesome), but I walked around the city alone for two days. London is gorgeous. I spent hours navigating the “Tube” (London Metro system) in order to see everything, but I think I made it to all the hotspots. Westminster Abbey, The London Eye, The London Bridge, Tower of London, Harrod’s, The Royal Palace: there are obviously more, but that pretty much covers it. I ate some quality fish and chips (with an ale, of course), and made more than enough stops at various Starbucks locations. As stated before, my hosts were awesome and it was great to play FIFA again even for such a short period of time. I was also privileged enough to help decorate the apartment for Christmas; something I will miss out on here in Palma because in the wise words of Carlos: having a tree and decorations is “too much work”. Regardless, the streets here in Palma are decked out in lights so the Christmas spirit is still partially intact. But back to the real story. Overall, it was really cool to see London and it’s certainly a city that I would not hesitate to go back to for work or pleasure.

After wishing London farewell, it was Italia time. I flew into Milan on Tuesday evening to see my friend from home. As you might expect, I got an awesome calzone and pizza for dinner soon after arriving. The entire time I was there I had to sneak past the security guard of the dorm, so after extensive practice of my pronunciation of “ciao” and some clever uses of hooded sweatshirts, I survived all entries and exits unscathed. The next day we awoke early to go see the sights. After a quick croissant we walked toward the tram in search of tickets. None of the usual bookstore kiosks were open to make our purchase (blank tickets that get stamped on the tram or bus), so we decided to hop on anyway. “I do this all the time” my friend stated confidently upon embarking. “No one pays for these things because no one ever checks for tickets”. Famous last words; I think you can see where this is going. Halfway through our journey, a group of uniformed transportation workers swarmed the doors. In a dash to get off and avoid them, we were quickly stopped. After a useless 10 minute attempt at explaining our tourist naivety, we were threatened by a call to the Police. With no desire to deal with the local authorities, we resentfully coughed up the €51.50 each (cash only) that we owed for the fine. After the most expensive public transportation ride of my life, the city of Milan really lost its glamour. We saw the Duomo, got some more calzones and walked through a Christmas market, but it just wasn’t as enjoyable as it should have been. Regardless though, I left for the train station early that afternoon and thus began my three hour journey to Venice.

As is customary for me in most forms of transportation, I took a nice nap on the train ride from Milan to Venice. I glanced out the window when periodically awoken by the loud Italian phone conversation happening three feet away from my face (yes, I had my headphones on and yes, the conversation was essentially the entire ride), but there wasn’t much to see except industrial areas and barren land (an Audi/Seat/Volkswagen plant was the highlight). Soon after awaking form my final siesta of the ride, I walked to the Venice bus station. This isn’t your normal bus station though; it’s a dock. And the busses are boats. Most of you probably knew this already, but this was news to me. Excited to get on a boat, I accidentally went the wrong direction, but the sunset cruise was well worth it. Finally made it to my friends in the hostel, which was much more of a hotel. We found a nice place for some drinks and then got dinner at what seemed to be a local hangout (always a good call). After some pizza and pasta, the only reasonable thing to do was go back to the room and watch The Italian Job, so we did.

We awoke to what should have been our final day in Venice (ah, the suspense) and after a leisurely breakfast we checked out, left our bags with the reception people and hopped on a boat to Murano, an island known for blown glass. As you might expect, we watched some glass creation, made the rounds to the tourist shops and tried to do some Christmas shopping. We went back to “mainland” Venice for some more pizza (nothing else is worth eating) and a little bit of wandering to kill time before we had to leave for the airport. Eventually we decided to head back to the hostel to hang out and drink tea for the last hour or so that we had. Casually chilling at the upstairs tables, we decided to grab our computers and maybe get a little work done (facebook, etc). Walking down the stairs, only two backpacks were visible (along with our two other bags). No problem, they must have moved our stuff around once we left. Negative. One backpack was missing in action. A backpack containing a Macbook Pro Laptop, iPod, various jewelry, vital books for class, running shoes and a United States Passport: a traveler’s worst nightmare. With only a few hours before our flight for Paris left Marco Polo Airport, we soon realized that making that plane was not going to be possible. From our remaining computers and crappy Spanish cell phones we called embassy hotlines (which were closed for a national holiday), skyped with parents, changed flights, contacted the Polizia and had stern conversations with the hostel workers (whom we’re still suspicious of). After a lot of scrambling with the few resources at our disposal (and some significant language barriers), we came to the conclusion that my two friends would take the 5:15 train to Milan in the morning in order to get to the U.S. Embassy as soon as possible. From there, my friend who lost her passport would go back to Sevilla and the other would head to Paris as previously planned. I got an afternoon flight from Venice for the next day and we bargained with the hostel to give us a significant discount for another night (because ultimately, they were responsible for the whole problem). For my friends, a painful 3:15 wakeup call, a long train ride, and few hours in the embassy resulted in an emergency passport and the consequent flights went smoothly. It was a sad end to what should have been a continuation of an otherwise great time in Venice, but when all the dust settled we realized that worse things could have happened (but we obviously still feel awful for our friend).

I did eventually make it to Paris and the plane ride over the alps was really awesome (until I passed out for the last hour of the flight). I eventually made it to the metro stop in the airport but soon realized that I neither spoke nor understood any French. My understanding of broken English (a great skill) really came in handy as I eventually ended up with a ticket on the correct train. Ultimately I found my hostel (of the real, low quality type) and quickly met the majority of my seven new roommates. My friend got in from Milan that evening and we met up with another Colby friend for dinner. We had some French fries and French onion soup, you know, traditional fare. Topped it off with some crepes and called it a night. Paris day two was action packed: Notre Dame, The Louvre, more crepes, two other museums, Eiffel tower views from afar and hot chocolate all before dinner. We then had another traditionally French dinner but rushed out when we realized that the Eiffel tower observation area closed at 11:00. We jogged to the metro, changed trains three times and eventually got to the Eiffel tower stop. We sprinted full speed for a solid half mile from the metro stop but somehow managed to arrive at the ticket booth 30 seconds late. Disappointed, we settled for a botellón next to the tower, but it just wasn’t the same. The rest of the night was fairly straightforward and next thing you know, I was waking up in the hostel and packing my bags.

You might think that my journey ends here, but you would be mistaken. After making it to the airport I approached the check in and was quickly intercepted by a heavily armed national guardsman. Luckily, I was not the only one being escorted away. Everyone (including workers) was being evacuated because of an unattended bag near security. So there I was, early for my flight, being a good citizen, and I’m rewarded by getting to sit on the floor with my bags for 45 minutes while the French Army decides what to do with someone’s forgotten luggage. I eventually get up to the check-in desk and lo and behold, my flight was not delayed and it’s leaving in 5 minutes. I’m also too late to check my bag, so I’m told to take my chances with bringing it as a carry-on. So, two carry-ons in hand (a European no-no) I cut the security line, take out my laptop and metallic objects, and think about how stupid the airport security process is. There was no question that my bags would be taken aside for further inspection, so as the security lady is rummaging through my duffel I give her permission to just throw away all of my liquids. She abides and I run to the plane. Last one on, I take my seat and take a nap. My three hour layover in Barcelona was uneventful and by the time the sun had set, I was back in Palma.

Overall, a great trip. We hit some rough patches along the way but these aside, it was really cool to see some of the most popular tourist destinations in Europe with some good friends. I don’t know that there will ever be another time in my life when I’ll be able to do something similar. I’m very pleased with how many places I managed to get to during my short time here in Spain and I know I’ve said it before, but I’m really lucky to be able to have this kind of experience. One week left and I’m back to the U.S. I have a solid 17 hours of travel/airport time next Friday so I’ll be sure to offer some closing remarks then. Until that time, enjoy the next week and I’ll see some (most?) of you soon.

Matt