In The Homestretch
At the end of September, I remember being astonished at how long one month on the other side of the world had felt. I was experiencing culture shock, jet lag, and homesickness all at once: a combination in which there is, unfortunately, no real cure for. Applying for a Spanish identity card, trying to find a house and enrolling in classes was no aid either, especially when the only way to get these done was by speaking Spanish, a language that I had nearly no confidence in at that time. And the cherry on top: I had nine more months ahead of me before I could see Canada again. As I write this, I'm facing three weeks left in my host country. Saying I'm out of here at the end of May doesn't sound too bad. But saying "three weeks" sounds terrifying. I visited 16 new countries, made two semesters worth of new friends (many who now feel like family), watched the northern lights in the arctic circle, walked the path of the running of the bulls, skied in the Pyrenee...
