My First 48 Hours of Study Abroad in Madrid

My First 48 Hours of Study Abroad in Madrid were memorable and a bit crazy. For all you out there who may have studied abroad (or are thinking about it) and felt some of these emotions, you are not alone!

I always knew I wanted to study abroad. My parents who took both my brother and me along on every adventure they could manage. So it’s natural that I would want to study abroad and really immerse in a foreign country.

When it came time to select a study abroad destination, Spain was practically chosen for me. As a Spanish major, it just makes sense to become an expert through cultural immersion. While there are lots of countries whose main language is Spanish, there’s really only one of those countries in Europe. So, when it came time to apply to programs, Spain was my main choice. I ended up choosing Madrid, Spain. My advisor recommended it to me based on my Spanish skills and relevance to my chosen major.

The Weeks Leading Up to Departure

The weeks before I left for Spain were a complete blur. I do remember distinctly that I had a stress ball in my stomach the size of a toro at a bullfight that didn’t go away until about two months into living in Spain. In that time I had extreme bouts of insecurity and indecision. Unhelpful thoughts kept racing through my head over and over. That little voice said things like “what am I thinking?” and “I wonder if I can get out of this.” Eventually, I resorted to carrying around a paper bag to address my panic attacks. Before I knew it I was in the car with my parents driving me to NYC for my flight.

PS – I was just kidding about carrying around a paper bag and treating my anxiety through bag-breathing exercises. However, if you think that will help you with anxiety you may be feeling, please feel free to try it if it helps!

I’ve always been on the frugal side, so I chose to book a flight separate from the rest of the group that was studying abroad. It saved about $200, and it never really even occurred to me that this may put extra stress on me. It’s truly messed up that I didn’t even consider that I’d be traveling alone for the first time ever. Add to that the fact that I was traveling to a foreign country with a different primary language, and you’d think that that I might feel apprehensive.

Yet there I was, suitcase packed and excited about the great abyss before me. I did not possess one iota of real knowledge of what was about to come, and I was still happy to face it. Whether this was bravery or stupidity, I’m still not sure. And so begins the story of my First 48 Hours of Study Abroad in Madrid.

My First 48 Hours of Study Abroad in Madrid Begins in NYC

When we arrived at the airport in New York City for my plane, it became apparent pretty quickly that there was a problem. The check-in took FOR-EV-ER, and lots of people were milling about. After checking my bags and feeling like I was about to walk the plank on a pirate ship, it was announced that our flight had been delayed twelve hours. The feeling of relief washed over me, and I got to spend the night in NYC with my parents unexpectedly. I think my guardian angel thought I needed that little bit of time before walking the plank. I was grateful for the reprieve.

Check in, Take Two went much smoother. We got to the airport, I got through security, and …. Well, it’s a bit blurry all these years later. I remember the flight was hot, the flight attendants shamelessly flirted with the men in first class, and the bathroom near me was broken. The plane landed in Madrid late, and the next leg of my new experience began.

The Arrival in Madrid, Spain

Once I landed, I collected my belongings and called my host. Even this was a new experience for me! I had twelve years of classroom study under my belt, and yet felt utterly unprepared to actually speak the language. It’s a very different thing to actually need to communicate with native speakers. My home in upstate New York just didn’t really give you that immersive experience. I muddled through.

The taxi cost me an exorbitant amount of money to get to my place, and was my first live speaking experience in Madrid. I’m pretty sure he ripped me off. But when you are tired, apprehensive, in a foreign country, and just want to get to where you’ll rest your head… sometimes, you just don’t care. When I arrived at the apartment complex, I met my senoras (a mother and daughter, both elderly) who showed me to my room. When that door shut behind me, I’m pretty sure that was the first full breath I took for a solid 36 hours. I was safe. Ish.

Madrid was in the middle of a heat wave, and the apartment did not have air conditioning. That night, I slept with the window open and a fan blasting on me, which barely touched the 90+ degree temperature in the bedroom. Even though my dreams were vivid and memorable, they weren’t very restful. I slept AWFUL.

Emerging from The Safe Room

The next day, I procrastinated as much as possible before emerging from my room. Like the hotel room before it, the small bedroom became a temporary safe haven from the scary foreign world outside. I was reluctant to leave it, but finally emerged when hunger overcame fear.

The my hosts were both very sweet elderly women. They had prepared lunch, and fed me as soon as I emerged from the room. Following their banter was somewhat challenging to me, though I mostly understood the conversation through the majority of the meal. Toward the end of lunch, however, they started speaking very rapidly, and I didn’t quite follow everything. Eventually I realized that Ninez (the mother) was asking me if I want to go for a walk. No big deal, I told myself. Sure, I said.

The “Quick” Neighborhood Walk

As we emerged on the street for my very first time in daylight in Madrid, it was humid and overcast. It felt like a storm was brewing. Sure enough, rain drops as fat as frogs started falling as we rounded a corner, and I asked Ninez if she wanted to go back. She said no, and plowed on.

We arrived at a little shop that was no more than a man sitting in a window. This was an “Estanco,” where you could buy tobacco, lottery tickets, and transit tickets. Again, I lagged behind what was being asked of me, but finally realized Ninez was showing me where to buy a ticket for the bus. Great! That would come in handy, I thought. Breathing a sigh of relief that we could head back now, I took a few steps back toward the apartment. I realized Ninez wasn’t with me, and turned to see her walking in the other direction. A little apprehensive now, I still reluctantly followed.

This is where my Spanish language skills became the backseat barrier to my upbringing. As many of you are familiar, public transportation is not that common to use in suburbs of small cities. We drive everywhere. I’d never even taken a public bus on my own, I’d never handled the ticket, I’d never needed to move myself via public transportation anywhere, ever. I drove.

The Bus Stop Inquisition

So when Ninez walked us to a bus stop and started asking questions of people around us, I realized she wanted me to know what bus to take to university. Although it didn’t start for a few days, it was good information to know. Mind you, all around us the storm had gone from threatening and a little rainy to downright scary. Lightning started striking, and it was close. Like, hitting within two blocks of where we were sitting close. So to me, the need to know what bus to take to the university had been learned, so in theory, mission accomplished, right?

Yet still we waited.

After a while, I asked Ninez why we were still standing there. I thought she said we were taking the bus to the university so that I would know the way. One more new experience, then. Well, at least we were going together.

*Snort.*

The Unexpected Trial by Fire

When the bus pulled up, Ninez put a surprisingly strong hand into the small of my back and shoved me on the bus, stuffing the ticket into my hand on the way. She didn’t come with me at all! It was only then that I realized that she didn’t say we. She said you are taking the bus. Oops.

So with lightning striking all around, that stomach ache rearing its ugly head, and no freaking idea where I was supposed to get off or what to do, I asked the one person on the bus whose job it was to get me from A to B, the driver.

Well, he was wonderful, though his driving was scary. We were on one of the major boulevards of the city, Paseo del Prado, which had multiple lanes and serves as a main artery through the city. As we drove along this very busy multi-lane tree-lined road, the very helpful driver drew me a map on a napkin while simultaneously swerving around traffic and driving down this very busy thoroughfare. Then he had me stand right with him, and he told me where to get off.

The Arrival at the University

Thanks to that scary-driving kind man and the handy dandy napkin map, the school ended up being just a block or so off that main thoroughfare. Just as I got off the bus, the storm passed and the sun shone down. I’ll never forget that day or how I learned to use public transit by being shoved on a bus by myself by a seemingly sweet old lady who thought it was no big deal.

My First 48 Hours of Study Abroad in Madrid were something to be remembered. It was terrifying, but I survived. You will too.

For all of you who I’d like to spare that type of experience, I’ve written a blog what I know about using public transit in Europe. Please click here for my blog on using public transit, and check out the big picture on what you need to know to get around. It talks about using public transit in Europe, as well as some tips if you plan to drive yourself.

As always, savvy travels = happy travels! Wander on, fellow trekkers.