Expatiperro

First off, apologies again for my lackluster blogging habits, and for leaving you all hanging about my time in Istanbul. I could write several posts about just my last few days there, but given that I'm short on time (for reasons that you'll discover soon), I'll just say that it was a wonderful break from my life in Barcelona, which put my teaching life behind me and gave me some perspective on my previous 9 months there. In my two weeks of travels, I met a lot of great people, drew up some future travel plans based on their advice, and had a fantastic time exploring Istanbul, one of the most fascinating places I've ever visited.

And now I'm back in Barcelona, soaking up my last full day as a resident of the city. My bags are 95% packed; my furniture is nearly all sold or pawned off; and I'm putting off taking down the posters on my wall until he last possible moment, as seeing bare walls would really make my impending departure that much more real.

The most frequent question I get asked when people know I'm going home is whether I'm sad to be leaving Barcelona. I really hate this question, not because it isn't valid (I would certainly be curious as well), but because any straight-forward answer would be too simplistic and leave out most of my real feelings. So the result is a rambling, convoluted mess of an answer that reflects my own unsettled thoughts about my feelings. Of course I'm sad to leave Barcelona- my time here has been one extended adventure since I arrived in September, and I'm just getting to the point where I feel like I know- really KNOW- the city and could almost call myself a local. My job here was engaging and interesting, with the added benefit of allowing my to support myself on 20 hours a week of work. The friends that I've made here are some of the closest people in my life, people from whom I've learned an immense amount. In short, I wouldn't trade my experience living in Barcelona for anything in the world.

So am I sad to leave the city? Yes. But I'm also excited to go back home. One aspect of living abroad is that when faced with a different culture and set of habits from the ones that you're used to from home, you end up reflecting a lot on your old way or life, and and you challenge your preconceptions on how the world, and by extension you, should work. Through this process, you realize one of three things- I really like things in this new country; I really like things in my old country; or I like things from both countries. Not to sound like Uncle Sam, but after nearly a year in Spain, I've come out feeling more American than before. I miss BBQ ribs, weekday afternoon baseball games, and the undeniable convenience of American shopping. I miss friendly, positive attitudes, a sense of destiny, and the belief that tomorrow will undoubtedly be better than today. And most of all, I miss my family, my friends, and my home.

This year has been an incredible learning experience. Among other things, I've learned how to talk constructively to children, and the related fact that kids are not dogs; how to manage my own finances; and how to live independently, and in a foreign language to boot. I've developed a new-found appreciation for European style; expanded my pork-related cooking repertoire by 800%; and come to enjoy shopping in open-air produce markets. I've conquered the manual transmission (in a medieval Italian city!); discovered my inner interior designer; and realized that the best way to learn a new language is to make a continuous fool of yourself for almost a full year.

There's a lot more that I can write now, but I'm off to prepare for my last Barcelona experience. And this one's a doozy- the first concert on U2's new worldwide tour. Sure, the new album kinda blows, and we'll be sitting too far away to see or hear much of anything, but at least I can take solace in the fact that when Bono closes the show with "Beautiful Day" (which he just HAS to do), he'll be singing it just for me. And what an end to my Barcelona year that will be.