I know what you're probably thinking.

Who in their right mind would *travel during a global pandemic*?

*Sheepishly raises hand*… me.

Let's back up. I was not just outrightly defying the warnings given to us by the CDC and other health experts. It was an agonizing decision, and the two circumstances that solidified my resolve were a). if something were to happen to one of my family members, I did not want to be an entire ocean away and, b). the U.S. government telling all citizens abroad to return home now or to be prepared to shelter-in-place to an "indefinite period of time". I do not like the word "indefinite".

[Caption]: An old picture I found of one of my older sisters and me going Black Friday shopping 9 years ago. Why did we have masks? I'm not sure, but it's too relatable now!

So, after a week of complete lockdown in Spain (no going outside unless it's to the store, pharmacy, hospital, or an essential job; fines of up to 30,000 euros for being outside without a purpose or for having more than just yourself in your car; etc.) I bought a ticket to head home to the United States for the following day. I packed as though I were fleeing the country, because that's exactly what I was doing.

I am already a pretty anxious person and let me tell you, I have never in my life had a more nerve-wracking night before a trip. I usually find it difficult to fall asleep the night before boarding an airplane, just from the excitement of it all, but this was pure anxiety that kept me awake for about six or seven hours, worrying about all of the worst possible scenarios. Images of getting stranded because of canceled flights, hospitals, ventilators, zoomed through my head, pumping my blood with stress hormones, keeping my body in full fight-or-flight mode. You know, the usual.

However, after a phone call with my older sister, I was finally able to fall asleep and feel well-rested for the next two days' worth of travel. I left for the airport extremely early, as I was not about to let something as nonsensical as traffic or one of those aforementioned fines get in the way of what I thought might be my only chance at getting home for the next six months.

I remember feeling that everything was so surreal as the taxi sped out of the city limits of Granada, the city in which I had spent the past six months living. It was almost too much to comprehend that I was leaving this place. Reality was a distant speck in some corner of my consciousness.

I arrived at the airport earlier than I had ever arrived for something in my life. I'm more of a "better late than never!" kind of person. But not this time. So, I sat. I read. I people-watched. Many had masks on. It was weird.

[Caption]: Waiting outside of the airport in Spain before my first flight. Pictured: Man with mask on in background.

On top of the normal stress of travel, there was the added anxiety of not knowing where the people around me had been, with whom they had come into contact, people not practicing the six-feet social distancing measures while standing in line, not knowing who has put their personal items in the plastic bins at security, TSA officers man-handling your belongings, etc.

Remember when public health officials told us to just assume that everyone around us is infected so we would take the precautions seriously? Yeah, not a very comforting thought when you're going through international airports. Oh, and when every two minutes there's a robotic voice over the intercom announcing that we have just entered into an area with a high-risk for COVID-19 along with a list of the symptoms in English and Spanish, that's pretty disquieting.

One thing that doesn't change, however, even amidst copious feelings of uneasiness is human connection. Even if those dots connect at a distance of two meters. I ended up meeting some of the kindest people during my trip, which helped to transport me from my head to the actual, present moment in front of me. I ended up meeting another girl from my teaching program who was in the same boat as me of not knowing whether to stay or leave (yes, the Clash's "Should I Stay or Should I Go" was my theme song during that tumultuous decision-making process). We ended up spending the entire night together curled up on couches (don't worry, we sanitized them) trying to catch some z's… and when I say "the entire night", I mean from about 12-4 AM until we were kicked out by the baggage checking employees.

[Caption]: What kind of airport has nice couches like this in the check-in area? Brits are strange.

I also met a kind man from Alaska, a spunky couple from Canada who was on one of the last flights out of Spain, and a woman from Tennessee who permanently lives in Greece doing research, but didn't feel safe staying in Europe alone, as she didn't have anyone to care for her if she fell ill. It was so interesting to hear what people were doing "Before", why their trip was coming to an end early, why their life was suddenly upended. Everyone has a story.

Actually, during a global pandemic, you're much more inclined to talk to the people around you, just because this is literally affecting everyone. Hence the word "global". And as I mentioned previously, chatting, even if it's about the virus, is a nice way to reduce some of the heart-pounding anxiety. We're all in this together, right?

All things considered, the trip went well. Spectacular, even. No cancellations, no delays, and I even had the pleasant surprise of spending nine hours in premium economy (I'm not sure why I booked that ticket – it must have been around the same price as economy because I'm telling you, this girl always gets put in the back of the plane) with extra space and good food. They even gave us ice cream. *Victory pose*. I gave myself ample time (too much, really) between flights so there was no running from gate to gate as per usual for me.

[Caption]: Airplane food is the best food. Mostly because there's not much you can do besides eat, sleep, and watch movies. Kind of like quarantine.

The health screening process was also quite painless. I had read horror story-esque articles highlighting the eight-hour lines at airports like O'Hare in Chicago the previous weekend after Trump made an announcement that seemed like even American citizens abroad wouldn't be able to get back into their own borders within 48 hours, sparking a frenzy of frantic flight-buying.

But less than a week later, the process was very much under control. I simply filled out a form, stating where I had been recently, and if I had experienced any symptoms in the last 24 hours. I was then ushered to an airport employee who asked me the same questions already stated on my form, scanned my temperature, signed my form, and I was on my way. The entire process took about two minutes.

Airports during a pandemic are… eerie. Too empty. The normal hustle and bustle just simply doesn't exist. It's a ghost town. Most restaurants were not open once I got to Dallas. Only one security line was open at the station I went to. And while I was so thankful that they were working so I could get home to my family, I wished so badly that the airport employees could go home and be safe with their own families.

[Caption]: We need nature. We need flowers and fresh air and each other. But right now we need isolation so we can return to all of those beautiful things.

I cried on the last flight. I think it was a mixture of both physical fatigue and intense, emotional strain. As I opened Facebook and read posts of how different people were handling the pandemic and social isolation, I just couldn't keep myself together anymore. Although we might share memes and try to use humor to mask the severity of the situation, we are living through some really heavy times right now.

People are separated from their families. People are out of work, with no way to provide for their children, let alone for themselves. People are living in abusive homes. People are struggling with their mental health. People are losing their loved ones. People are losing their own lives. I felt so immensely sad for the people. For everyone. I cried for the world.

However, I eventually dried my saltwater-stained cheeks and after close to 40 hours of travel, three planes, and two layovers, I felt so relieved when the plane touched down. I did it. The worst was over. Ahead of me lie several weeks of self-quarantine, but I am now on the other side of that.

[Caption]: The reemergence of sidewalk chalk – even by college students – is something that has been bringing a smile to my face.

I am still so heartbroken for the state of our world right now, but I am also so grateful that my family, friends, and I are healthy, and that we have all of the essentials that we need. And much more. I am thankful that I can go outside and fill my lungs with fresh air, something I could not do in my balcony-less flat in Spain. I am grateful to be able to barge into my little sister's room to annoy her whenever I please, and to be able to eat home-cooked meals with my dad.

I hope and pray every day that we will soon be able to get back to some semblance of normal, but that we do so with extreme caution, and not too soon, so as not to undo all of the work we've done thus far of containing the virus.

[Caption]: Never have I noticed the vibrancy of springtime flowers quite like I have this year.