Honestly, the flight over went as smoothly as anything could, and it was full of mini-blessings straight from God. I had the exact change for my favorite Starbucks drink in the MPLS airport, which made me smile because I had just grabbed a handful of random coins before I left. Blues music was playing, so I was the strange girl in Starbucks dancing to myself. I flew from MPLS to Dallas, and my flight was delayed there, but that was a blessing as well. An older Spanish couple was sitting next to me, and I had the opportunity to get that first awkward Spanish conversation out of the way. They knew a combined 39 words of English, and the woman was half deaf. Combine that with my gringo accent, and you get lots of blank looks, "whats?"and then my favorite facial expression when something finally clicks. But they were old and adorable, so I was content.
The flight to Madrid was better than anything I could have wished for. When I sat down in my seat, a man asked me to switch with him in a different isle. I wasn't particularly attached to my seat, and I did so. Two minutes later, a Mexican girl my age sits next to me, all smiles. She is studying abroad in Spain as well, but in Guenca instead of Sevilla. We spent all the time that we weren't asleep talking and laughing...someone felt the same excitement and fears that I did, and she shared the moment with me. What a beautiful woman she is, too. Sweet, sweet heart.
I'm now writing from my hotel in Madrid. I'm honestly surprised at how quickly I've gotten over my fear of using Spanish--or perhaps it is simply incentive mixed with necessity. I couldn't get into my room (roommate was jet lagged and sleeping) and had to get in somehow, which meant that I could either ask for a key or wait. Also, I needed a security key for the Wifi. The important things in life, right? *shakes head* So the Spanish battle begins. I have to admit, it's kind of fun. Kind of a lot of fun. Maybe I won't come home? We'll see how the first week goes.