Knockin' On Heaven's Door

      This past week, I have had no classes at all and instead have been enjoying a week of traveling with my friends Kelsey and Elana in honor of La Semana Santa here in Spain.  The three of us were very much looking forward to the vacation we had planned: four days in Seville in the South of Spain followed by two days in Paris.  I was planning on relaxing during my first four days in Seville, since we had plenty of time to see all the sights and would be able to take on the pace of a true vacation.  We headed for the airport in Bilbao last Thursday without a care in the world, ready to enjoy a relaxing week together.

      We boarded and plane and took our seats.  Kelsey and I were each on an aisle, but we were still directly across from one another.  Elana was a couple rows behind us.  We settled in and prepared for takeoff.  Now, I am used to flying at this point.  I know that the plane sometimes makes weird noises that make it seem like we are going to explode even though we aren’t.  I know that the plane might dip a bit and make my stomach flip.  I know that turbulence is perfectly normal and that the scientific laws that work together to keep us in the air are not going to suddenly stop working and send us catapulting to the Earth.  All of these little bumps along the way are perfectly normal and do not ever make me feel that I am in any danger of any sort.

      That being said, I know that our takeoff from Bilbao was anything but normal.  We started speeding up and I could feel the plane start to tilt upwards as we ascended into the air.  Within 5 seconds, I felt the plane jostling both side to side and up and down much more violently than I have ever experienced before.  Kelsey and I didn’t expect anything to be drastically wrong and kind of laughed when we looked at each other, while simultaneously and surreptitiously clutching our armrests.  I figured we were just having a bit of a rocky time getting off the ground and that the feeling of being trapped inside a dryer on the spin cycle would end soon.

      It didn’t.  It got worse.  The plane started continued to violently shift back and forth while continuing to drop down at random.  This shaking and dropping could no longer be classified as turbulence.  Something was terribly wrong.  Kelsey and I stopped laughing.  I put my head down and closed my eyes, both to stop myself from getting sick and to avoid watching the panic seep into the passengers around me.  I felt like I was going to throw up anyway and was already beyond panicked. 

      The flight attendant came over the loudspeaker, telling us in both Spanish and English to remain seated with our seat belts fastened.  She began speaking with a steady tone and a steady pace, yet it quickly became clear that she was just as nervous as the rest of us.  She began speaking faster and faster as her voice got higher and higher. 

      “Como medida de seguridad les recomendamos que mantengan el abrochado durante todo el vuelo. Please remain seated for the duration of the flight.  Please keep your seatbelts fastened, please remain seated, stay seated keep your seatbelts fastened, SIT DOWN, ABROCHE SU CINTURÓN, PLEASE KEEP YOUR SEATBE----”

      She cut out mid-sentence, at which point I was positive that I was going to die.  I kept telling myself to calm down and accept the fact that there was nothing that I could control other than my own state of mind in these last remaining minutes.  The bumping and shaking and jostling and free-falling continued minute after minute after minute, and therefore I cannot describe the thoughts that flew through my mind as my life “flashing before my eyes,” but I did see images of my family and my friends, seeing the names of important people as words in my brain, flashing and fading, as I felt a great longing to call out to them.  I told myself to stay calm as I sent panicked prayers up to Heaven and screamed within myself, “I have so much left to do!  I have so much left undone!  Please, give me a chance to do all the things I have always planned on doing!”  I was sitting in my seat, clutching the armrests, and shaking my head.  There was so, so much left for me to do. 

      It got to the point that I started wondering if the end would be slow and painful, or quick and to the point.  I was hoping it would all be over before I knew it, and was saddened that my study abroad experience would be remembered by this terrible ending.  I was just about to reach for Kelsey’s hands when suddenly, the shaking stopped.  We climbed a bit higher, and the bumping and sloshing around came to an end.  We were smoothly flying through the air.  I slowly opened my eyes, and the Spanish woman next to me looked over and whispered, “Ya,” meaning – it’s over, it’s done.

      At this point, I looked at Kelsey with wide eyes and saw that she had been equally as panicked as I was.  I looked back to Elana, who held out her hand to show me that she was uncontrollably shaking, and noticed that the woman in the row between us was uncontrollably crying as her husband hugged her in an attempt to calm her down.  I turned back to Kelsey.

      “Kelsey, I was about to reach for your hand!”

      “Me too!  I was wondering how I was going to be able to hold   your hand and Elana’s at the same time!”

      I almost kissed the ground when we landed.  I felt like I had been granted a new lease on life.  We spent the next hour reliving the experience and trying to make sense of it all.  We discussed the thoughts that flew through our heads, both rational and irrational.  Elana wondered how her host parents would ever know if she had died, while Kelsey was glad that only the clothes she had packed in her carry-on would be damaged in the plane’s explosion. 

      We made it safely to our hostel and were greeted very warmly at the reception desk. There was a group in the lobby heading out for a pub-crawl, and they told us that we should meet up with them as soon as we could get out acts together.  We threw our suitcases in the room and were out the door.  Enough worrying for one night. 

      We quickly became a part of the hostel community, and made instant friends with whom we shared a truly hilarious night.  Elana, Kelsey and I danced our stress away as we followed our new friends from bar to bar, singing our favorite Spanish songs at the top of our lungs.

Girl Power.

Here we are taking a break on our walk back to the hostel, eating an orange that we picked off one of the many orange trees in Seville.  It was not until the next day that we read in a guide book, "The orange are too bitter to eat in Seville."  You can say that again.

     

      The next four days were spent exploring the beautiful city of Seville.  The South of Spain is a totally different ball game from the North.  The people are certainly much friendlier.  However, one of our teachers here made an interesting comparison between the people in the South of Spain and those of the North, saying that people in the South of Spain are indeed much friendlier up front, but they smile they appear to be hiding something behind their eyes, while Northerners have their friend’s backs and their loyalty for life, even though they might be harder to warm up to in the beginning.  

Plaza de Espana.

Elana and I dressed as twins in the Plaza.

Plaza de Toros - Bull Ring.

I like this girl.

By the river in Seville.

We love each other.

      On Monday morning, we were up by 6:45 to head out for our flight to Paris.  I was slightly (read: incredibly) annoyed at the RyanAir flight attendant who decided that my carry-on was oversized and decided to charge me 55 dollars, but I decided to put it behind me, as I had bigger things to worry about.  Namely, the takeoff of this next flight.  Once the engine started, I literally bawled my eyes out for 5 minutes straight.  Elana continuously whispered, “We’re going to die,” into my ear, which was less than comforting, but I held her hand anyway. I would have held Kelsey’s hand too, but she was in her own world of suffering and could seriously not be talked to for about 5 minutes before and after takeoff.  The landing was equally as terrifying as the takeoff had been, as we bounced on the runway, which was just about the last thing we could handle at that point. 

      We landed about an hour and twenty minutes outside of the center of Paris, so we had to grab a train towards the city at the train station.  It was in said station that I went through a basic rite of passage in Paris: being pick-pocketed.  Goodbye money, ID cards, debit card and Ipod!  I miss you!!!!

      At this point, I was rather puffy-eyed and pissed off at Paris. People had warned me that it was an expensive city, but I most certainly had not expected to lose hundreds of dollars before even arriving at the city center!  After 9 hours of traveling, we arrived at our Bed and Breakfast starving, sad, and exhausted.

      Luckily, our Bed and Breakfast was by far the cutest place I have ever been in my life.  The host took unbelievably good care of me, setting us up with coffee and a plate gingerbread cookies (and then another one when we shoveled the first 10 cookies down our throats in record time) while calling the debit card company to cancel my card and offering his phone about a million times to call my mother.  My parents were sending me a barrage of incredibly sweet emails reminding me that these things happen, and Elana and Kelsey were doing everything that they could to make me smile.  I was reminded about a million times over that the people in my life are so much more valuable than anything a silly pickpocket could ever take from me.  Mind you, I do hope that whoever ended up with my Ipod is enjoying my awesomely crafted playlists, organized by the names of colors that correspond to certain moods expressed by certain songs.

      We headed out that night to enjoy the city of lights. We ferociously ate dinner and then took a boat tour along the river and saw the Eiffel Tower all lit up.  Then, we happily headed back to our cozy little room and watched Ratatouie until we fell asleep in our warm and comfy beds.

Note the Eiffel Tower in the background!  Also, please note our silly new hats.

      We woke up to the most precious breakfast in the entire world, including the freshest and most delicious croissants in the entire world.  Our two hosts at the Bed and Breakfast had truly thought of everything to make their place as comfortable and welcoming as possible.  They helped us to plan our day ahead, and then we were off to climb to the top of the Notre Dame Cathedral (as recommended by my dad), walk along the river and grab lunch, visit the Arc de Triomph, and head up to the Sacred Heart Basilica.  Paris is absolutely stunning and so full of history, and I truly enjoyed exploring it all day, despite the fact that my absolute inability to say even one word in the native language allowed for some rather awkward interactions.  It turns out that speaking a mixture of Spanish and English will not trick people into thinking that you are speaking French.

Sacred Heart Basilica.

In front of Notre Dame.

At the top of Notre Dame.

Locks of Love! CA + EG + KA 4ever.

Our yummy breakfast!

      The following day, we toured the Louvre and visited the Eiffel Tower during the day.  We couldn’t believe our time in Paris was already up, so we made sure to buy some chocolate croissants before we left.  Honestly, I would give Paris another Ipod and another few hundred dollars if it would give me another one of those bites of Heaven.

Oh, hey Mona.

      We made the journey back to the airport and braced ourselves for takeoff once again.  This time, we were all holding hands.  We suddenly found ourselves singing Backstreet Boys as the engine revved up in an attempt to keep our minds off our panic.  We were far from over the trauma of the first flight, and even small bumps on the metro had terrified us over the course of the week.  Our eyes were all closed, our hands were interlocked, and we were huddled together, singing.  “You are…my fire.  My one…desire.  Believe when I say, that I want it thaaaat way.”

      The plane started moving.

      “But we are two worlds apart, can’t reach to your heart, when you say, that I want it that way.”

      The plane started its ascent into the sky.  I buried my face into Elana’s shoulder.

      “TELL ME WHY, AINT NOTHING BUT A HEARTACHE, TELL ME WHHHYYY, AINT NOTHING BUT A MISTAKE, TELL ME WHY!!!! I NEVER WANNA HEAAAAAR YOU SAY, I WANNNNTTT IT THHHHAAAATTTT WAY!!!!!!!”

      And then we were in the air, smooth sailing, cruising back to our Spanish homes.  Safe and sound.  Back to Basque Country, for my final 10 days in Bilbao.  I can’t believe that my time in Europe is ending so soon, but at the same time, I can’t believe how many amazing opportunities I have had over here in such a short period of time.  This past trip has reminded me of how blessed I am to be here with the amazing friends that I have made.  We made one friend at the hostel in Seville who, after a day and a half with Kelsey, Elana and me, told us, “I have never met anyone who laughs quite as much as you three girls do.”  I feel I have done so much.  And yet, if I have learned one thing, it is that I have so, so much more left to do.

Laughing until we cry.  It is this, and these girls, that I will miss the most.