The Perfect Time to Leave Spain

There are two reasons I gave this post the above title:

1. After my last post, it's probably pretty obvious that I needed a break from Spain. Don't get me wrong: I love Spain. I love Murcia. I love my job. I wouldn't trade it for anything right now. But after the debacle of at the university office and after spending close to 40 days of constant language processing, which can get quite tiring, I really started missing home. I started missing the American efficiency...and language.

This weekend is a long weekend in Spain (I only work Thursday next week), so I took full advantage of my time, packed my bags, and came here to visit my friend Rachael in Ramstein, Germany.

It turns out Ramstein is the perfect dose of America that I needed.

In previous years when I have traveled and/or studied abroad, I refused to associate myself with anything remotely American. I attempted to learn languages while avoiding English, I tried going to as my local restaurants as possible--and I refused to enter any McDonalds or Starbucks.

But through my own experience I've learned that living in a foreign country is completely different than visiting or even studying in one. When you visit or study, there are aspects you don't have to deal with like arguing in another language with people at the payroll office, sorting out documentation to establish your residency and national identity, and setting up utility accounts. Again, I want to clarify that I'm happy where I am and I'm happy that I get to experience these challenges. It builds knowledge and confidence. But sometimes it gets exhausting--especially when the culture is the polar opposite of your own in some aspects. You start missing parts of home that you realize you won't have for a while.

This getaway to Germany was one of the best 200 euros I've spent and at the most perfect timing. Here I have my one of my best American friends. I have a bedroom with heat. I have hot showers that I don't have to turn off in between lathers. I have two cats that cuddle and remind me of my own two cats back home. And I have access to an American Air Force base--an American expat's paradise complete with supermarkets with American food products, bowling alleys, non-dubbed Hollywood movies, franchised restaurants, super-casually dressed people--sweatpants, Uggz and all--and ENGLISH.

Last night Rachael and I signed me into the Refuge, and we ate at Chili's, where she works. I felt relaxed and at home as I ate greasy Tex Mex, asked for refills, spoke English without feeling judged, and paid my bill in dollars. Who would have thought that one of my favorite vacations would be in a Chili's?

But after my American indulgences, I woke up this morning ready to explore Germany. When Rachael worked this evening, I meandered through Kaiserslauten, a town that's a 30-minute train ride away. With neither a map or a plan, I wandered around the city, appreciating the chilled air, snow covered buildings, and traditional holiday decorations.

And for the first time this season, I felt the thrilling anticipation for Christmas. I stumbled upon "K-Town's" Christmas market (I find that the best travel moments normally involve "stumbling"). I admired the elaborately decorated stands, bought a cup of hot schoko, and savored it in front of a fire while listening to a live jazz band play carols.

Not only was it the perfect time to leave Spain, but it was the perfect time to visit Germany.

(See below for pictures of my German Christmas evening.)

I've strayed a bit from my original focus.

So that was the first reason this vacation was perfectly timed.

2. Forty-five minutes after my plane left the Madrid airport, there was a major national strike among airport controllers that caused eight airports to close, including the one in Madrid. More than 200,000 people were stranded.

I just feel like need to retype this: FORTY-FIVE MINUTES BEFORE MY PLANE LEFT THE MADRID AIRPORT

The airports finally reopened today, and officials are expecting everything to be back to normal in 48 hours. I'm here until Wednesday, so even if these officials are running on Spanish time and it takes 96 hours, I should be OK.

If you want to learn more about the strike check out this site and this video. The video shot is in the very airport I left from.

But I made it to Germany with 45 minutes to spare.

God knew I needed this vacation.