Like countless Erasmus students before me, and like countless yet to come, I am torn between a desire to see my family back home again, and an overwhelming desire to stay abroad and not go back home at all. This is a stark contrast to my attitude of the first few weeks of this blog, but don’t let that discredit my point.
Anyone who has ever been on an Erasmus placement year, or any kind of student exchange year for that matter anywhere in the world can attest to the great pleasure that can be had during the time you’re there. You meet some fantastic people, make a huge number of friends in a short space of time, you see and experience whole new worlds and your life becomes one great big holiday (of sorts) with your new but already close mates. Now to many, home life means time away from all the ‘work’ that goes on on a year abroad, and a trip home for a long weekend or a mini holiday is a truly welcome break. Yet for a suprising number of us (i’ve spoken to a fair few people but this is hardly an extensive research project) the prospect of going home and leaving our cosy little lives overseas even for as little as a weeks holiday for easter makes us think ‘if only I had more time.’
I’m not saying i’m not looking forward to going home. If my parents are reading this- I’m very much looking forward to seeing you again, but I cannot deny that a part of me wishes to stay in Spain and keep life going in the way it has for the past few weeks and months. I guarentee that I am not the only one out there who misses home from time to time, but those times are few and far between. I realise this is a stark contrast to my attitude at the start of this blog, but don’t let that discredit my point.
When talking with a good friend of mine over a few beers a couple of days ago after work, we came up with a list of the reasons we don’t want to go home, we even ran out of fingers to count them on. But despite these numerous reasons ranging from the great cost of flights and public transport to the totally unfair yet ever present worry that life at home might seem a little slow and possibly even boring compared to our lives overseas. And of course the fact that the weather in our native land isn’t known for being that great, it’s a crying shame to be boarding a flight in the glorious Spanish sun wearing shorts and a t-shirt, knowing that your pee will freeze before it hits the toilet and your tongue will stick to a lamp post even in mid-August. Although why anyone would want to lick a lamp post in the first place is slightly confusing…
Yet neither my friend nor I had to think hard to list a great number of reasons why we actually do want to go home for a bit, why it’s actually just what we all need from time to time.
Firstly, regardless of your age, I don’t think anyone can argue that sometimes we need our parents there with us. We move out from the house, we grow up, we fall in and out of love and people come and go, yet our parents will be there regardless, and often defend us to the ends of the earth when others won’t. That’s something we sometimes forget while abroad, that while we are having the time of our lives, our parents are back home missing us and loving us more than ever.
Secondly, there’s nothing better than a home cooked meal. At the moment our kitchen is being refurbished, which is rather unfortunate since it means the ‘homecooked meal’ awaiting me is in fact a curry from the local takeaway, but nonetheless the point is valid. Living in Spain and eating amazing Spanish food is fantastic, and I already miss the tortilla I get everyday at work, but we still look forward to the meals we eat with our parents. The conversation topics may have changed, but it’s like being a kid again. And as we get older, who doesn’t want to feel young again?
I couldnt list all of the reasons we came up with for coming home, so i’ll end on one that has been a constant for me, one that has always pulled me home. Living independently in Spain is great yes, earning money and being semi self sufficient is good fun too (sometimes less so) yet the chance to have things paid for by the federal bank of mum and dad is never one to pass up. It may not be as lavish as it was when we were younger amd away at school or wherever, yet parents will provide and care for us better than we almost ever could.
So here we are, landed at the airport having left Spain in the glorious sun, and looking out of the window at grey clouds and grumpy looking ground staff. I’ll admit I want the pilot to turn around and fly us back to Spain, maybe to Barcelona or Cadiz, somewhere sunny… But home is where the bank account is, so i’m happy to be back.
See you in 10 days Spain, don’t miss me too much.
The Rain in Spain... 