She left the United States when she boarded the plane at Dallas/Fort Worth. Twenty years old and thirsty for adventure, the plane carried her over the ocean to the small Spanish city. She thought she was beginning the typical European adventure many other 20-somethings so desire, the one that would bring her to a new country every weekend. But when her plane returned her to the United States sixteen weeks later, the desperation in her heart to see everything possible had been excavated out of her and the passion for intimacy with her host city had filled its place.
Her first night in Cádiz was quiet. After traveling for 25 hours, she yearned for a warm meal, and teetered between sleep and wakefulness until she made it to her bed in her host mother Rosa’s apartment. The night had few sounds besides silverware clattering on plates and the pattering of Pepo’s paws on the hardwood floors. In the weeks to come, this nightly scene would fill with conversation and become one of her most cherished memories. But in the fatigue of travel and meeting new faces, the first night was quiet.
She dove into the Spanish immersion, desperate to become fluent in the language and to live and breathe a culture that was different from her own. While she prepared to hop around Europe as she had seen her friends do, she wandered Cádiz, this small city on the southern coast of Spain. In her wanders, gaditanos, the people of Cádiz, were often more straightforward than Americans were accustomed to, but tended towards kindness. The central market sold meats, seafood, and chains of vegetables of every color, hanging above the stands and tempting you to make a purchase. The ocean wrapped around the end of downtown, the waves folding gently on the shore of La Caleta. If a city could give you a hug, that was what it felt like to visit Cádiz. As she hugged the city back, the part of her that so desperately yearned to see everything was disappearing and the sixteen weeks ticked away.
Her last night in Cádiz was quiet. In the sixteen weeks that had passed since that first night, she had played with Rosa’s grandkids on the floor of the living room, she had laughed with Rosa at goofy television shows, they had exchanged stories about their families–all of this happening over so many meals that Rosa had generously cooked for her. She had missed her own family, but tried her hardest to soak in this life by the sea. So after these sixteen weeks, her last night in Cádiz was quiet.
In sixteen weeks, she came to know one country so much more deeply than she expected. She got to better understand the intricacies of its culture. She found a more intimate form of travel, suiting her better than the wild adventure through Europe that she had expected. When her plane landed at JFK, she knew that she was in love with travel and simultaneously she was in love with staying in one place.
Hannah is a Psychology and Spanish student who uses her free weekends to hike, cook, and spend time in good company. She is fortunate to have spent Autumn 2015 in Cádiz, Spain.
Comments are closed.