hasta luego

6:40 am SVQ time and I am ready- bags checked, through security… just waiting for a day full of waiting.  Note: after going through Sevilla’s airport security, I either am really concerned about it or I really hate TSA- this was so easy. 

I left my house in a cab at 5:30 am this morning and I really couldn’t comprehend what was actually happening, but I had the same sensation when I first came to Spain.  I probably won’t feel like I’m going home “for real” until I’m there.  Just after 5:40, the cab dropped me off at the Torre de Oro so I could catch the public bus that runs to the airport.  And just after 6:10, I arrived at the airport.

Now I’m sitting in a waiting area with boarding passes in hand- here much too early because I was expecting more delays with checking bags, security, and random, unanticipated airport problems.  At this point, “reflecting” on my summer still isn’t a possibility- I can’t actually accept nor come to grips with the reality that I am actually leaving and will be in Chicago in a matter of hours.  However, as I sat with friends this morning while waiting for our flights, I most definitely felt at peace with where I am, where I’m going, and most definitely where I’ve been. 

From studying abroad, I made some of the best friends- friends with whom I know I will maintain friendships, friends who will at least be “that person I know in (insert random state)” if I need a place to crash, and friends who have grown with me in some of the coolest ways possible.  These friendships- while not nearly close to the duration of lifelong friends or family - are strong and powerful and can withstand the toll of distance because only this select group of 30 really knows this part of my life.  “This part of my life” being the best, most terrifying, most emotional, most challenging, and most beautiful eight months that I, as hard as I try, will never be able to completely recount to my other friends and my family. 

Remembering my first few days in Seville is surreal, especially as I’m sitting in the airport fighting back tears and preparing to “ugly cry” on the plane- it’s inevitable.  I give endless praise and thanks to God for providing resources, protection, guidance, and love while on this journey of a lifetime.  I’m just drowning in His mercy and grace over and over again.  How else could I have lost a debit card, been lost- literally and figuratively (100 times), been pickpocketed, and still made it out okay? J

Hasta luego, Sevilla- nunca adiós. 

Hasta pronto, Chicago.