Before I left for Europe for the first time in summer 2017 my dad asked me if it felt real. If it felt real that I was about to spend three weeks in Barcelona, Spain. I considered the question as we speed down the highway towards LAX to catch my red-eye flight to London. I responded by saying that no I honestly could not believe it. My dad laughed and told me that it wouldn’t feel real until my “Oh crap” moment. Confused, I asked what he meant. To this, he responded “It’s the moment it finally sinks in that you’re in a foreign country.
My moment was landing in London for the first time.
It’s when you finally understand you’re in a new place with a completely different culture that’s completely new to you.” My nerves went through the roof. That sounded completely terrifying. I’m being ridiculous, I thought, I’ve been away from home three times longer up at college. But that little voice inside me kept nagging that California to Oregon is a little closer than California to Spain (5024 miles closer to be exact).
Less than three hours later I boarded my flight to London and waited for it to sink in. I thought that maybe when the plane took off it would hit me, but instead of the panic I thought would ensue I only felt an odd sense of calm. I considered that maybe it wouldn’t feel real until I landed in London Heathrow airport, the third largest airport in the world, but as I landed and took the shuttle to transfer terminals, it still felt surreal.
Even as I boarded another plane and landed in Barcelona at 10:00 p.m. it still felt like a dream.
It wasn’t until I was in an alleyway in the streets of Barcelona at 11:30 at night in front of a locked door that I finally uttered the words “oh crap.” It began with me standing at baggage claim in the Barcelona airport with no wifi and no bag in sight. I looked around and realized two things: I was one of the few people left standing around the carousel and no more bags were coming up.
I automatically assumed the worst. My bag is lost, I thought, I’m in Barcelona, my Spanish is less than prime, and my bag is lost. I frantically tried to remember the words for luggage and lost as I looked around for someone I could ask for assistance. To my utter relief about 5 minutes later my bag made its way around the carousel, it may have been last, but at least it was there.
Now slightly shaken I forced myself out of the airport and into a taxi line. I summoned all the knowledge my junior year of high school AP Spanish class had given me and clumsily greeted the taxi driver and asked him to take me to the address of the dorms I’d be staying in.
Now, coming from a girl who had never even ridden in an Uber before and watches way too much Criminal Minds, I was terrified to be in a taxi alone. The man seemed nice and we exchanged the minimal amount of polite small talk that my Spanish would allow for, but still, I was in a completely new place and my phone was rendered completely useless. I was terrified.
When we finally arrived at my destination the taxi driver gestured to the door located in the middle of the ally way we were parked in and asked if this was the right place. I honestly had no idea. Deciding it was now or never I told him yes and handed him the Euros I had exchanged for US dollars the week before. I was excepting about 6 euros in change but to my confusion, he passed a handful of coins back to me. Too confused to argue I shoved them into my pocket, thanked him, and jumped out of the cab.
I swiftly turned to the door marked with the address I had been given and knocked and waited and waited. No one answered. About five minutes had passed and still no answer. So there I was, standing in front of a door in an alleyway in Barcelona at 11 pm at night with my suitcase and no cell reception and no way into the dorms. That’s what lead me to finally say “Oh crap.”
If I could go back and change it, take away all the panic and fear and confusion, honestly, I wouldn't. It’s that exact “Oh crap” moment that made my study abroad all worth it. Studying abroad is full of “oh crap” moments, and those are the moments I learned from the most. They’re the moments you realize you might be lost in the middle of Rome at night and need to try and tell an Italian hotel desk clerk who knows no English that you need to call a taxi. The moment you fall asleep on the train and almost miss your stop if not for a kind person waking you up. The moment you break your friend's toenail accidentally while attempting to dance and now your friend has a bloody toe and you realize they don't really have first aid kits in clubs. The moments you realize you shouldn’t have been up till 3 am because you have an 8 am flight. The moment you finally understand the importance of a supportive shoe and that walking around Barcelona all day in flip flops wasn't a great idea.
It’s because of these moments I became a more responsible and independent person. It made me realize that no one else was there to solve my problems for me, I had to be the one to do it. I learned how to problem solve and think on my feet. I learned to be aware of my surroundings and of the responsibilities that come with freedom. I was able to expand my knowledge of a new culture and grow my communication skills. I have never felt more like an adult then those three weeks I spent in Spain.
Studying abroad allowed me to not only learn more about another culture but also more about myself. I learned I was a lot more capable then I thought I was. I can look at my surroundings and make logical decisions while under pressure. I’m more confident in myself because now I know if something happens, I can handle it.
When I look back on the day I left for Spain, I can't believe how scared I was. I remember leaving my dad at airport security, my eyes plastered
I thought my journey began when my dad dropped me off at the airport, but my journey really began in that doorway in Spain with those two little words: “oh crap.”