I'm teaching, learning, eating, studying and hugging my way through Spain. I'm also struggling, listening, developing, stumbling, screwing up, fixing, smiling, laughing, dancing, singing, explaining, memorizing... any other -ings you can think of, it's happening to me.
It still feels like a fairy tale, a dream land. To think that self-proclaimed "villages" actually do exist is mind-blowing. Not only do they exist, but I'm living in one. What is the hardest part about living in said village you ask? The answer is knowing that I have to leave. Soon. At first, I got through each new day knowing that in a few short months I'd be back home. Now it is this very same thought which once inspired me to get through the day that keeps me up at night. I know that when I leave, I will leave a part of me here. Yes, this place is small and cold. No, there isn't anything superbly enticing or exciting about it. Most of the villagers still stare at me and not many people outside my normal circle speak to me. I still don't understand half the things these people are saying to me everyday. Nonetheless, Navaleno is my village.
You try coming here for 3 months and tell me then if you ever want to leave.
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