Nothing boosts your ego when you’re abroad quite like that moment when you’re walking home from the store and someone stops you to ask for directions. I know, this probably doesn’t sound like much of an accomplishment, and maybe I’m over-analyzing the

La Catedral Seo, which was breathtaking.

situation entirely. But in my mind, that must mean that I look like I know what I’m doing out here. And the fact that (after apologizing profusely for my broken Spanish) I was able to successfully guide the person to where they needed to go – I’d say that I walked a little bit taller the rest of the way home feeling like I have a place here in this city.

It’s almost been a month since my traveling companions and I arrived in Europe, and it’s pretty surreal to see how far we’ve all come since we were wandering around the Barcelona airport, aimlessly looking for our bus to Zaragoza and wondering how on earth we were ever going to be able to understand the rapid Spanish that we heard coming from the people around us. And yet here we are, able to communicate and finding ourselves walking the line between being tourists and being locals.

Through some trial and error, I’ve found that they key to this achievement has been to participate in “the little things” that are a part of daily Spanish life here. Going to a coffee shop to read the newspaper over a café con leche. Picking up the groceries for dinner from the supermarket. Taking public transportation. Going to a bar with some friends to watch FC Barcelona play against Real Madrid in the Copa Del Rey soccer tournament. And, of course, participating in local festivals and events.

Enjoying our Roscón de San Valero with a delicious thick hot chocolate made for dipping the cake into!

This past Tuesday was the Fiesta de San Valero (the Patron Saint of Zaragoza), and it was hands-down the best day I’ve had here so far. Around ten thousand people pack into the main Plaza in town at 10 AM to eat a piece of the Roscón de San Valero, a giant wreath-shaped cake that is made specifically for the holiday. Among that huge crowd of people was my little group of amigos and I, all international students hoping to engage in the kind of cultural experience that you can only get from participating in such a huge event. Aside from the delicious Roscón, the events of the day include an abundance of street musicians and bands, free access to historical buildings like the gorgeous Catedral Seo (pictured above), and the ever-anticipated parade of the Gigantes and the Cabezudos.

It’s pretty hard to miss this colorful procession. People pack into the street, and the kids climb onto their parents’ shoulders to better see these interesting traditional characters. Cabezudos are people dressed up in costumes with massive (somewhat frightening) heads. They chase the kids around the plaza, and are a big hit among the 5-10 year old crowd. (The kids who looked to be under 5 weren’t quite sure whether to be fascinated or terrified by them!) The Gigantes are massive puppets, probably 15 to 20 feet tall, that are carried down the street, flanked by musicians. There are about 8 of them, and they’re all different (a king, a queen, one that looks like Don Quijote, etc.).

The Cabezudos, and check out that crowd!

After seeing all the sights of the festival, we headed to a local bar to indulge in some delicious tapas and great conversation. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it, but it was such a fantastic way to end the day. There was just something about being part of the local celebration, followed by enjoying some local cuisine, that helped us to feel deeper immersed into the daily life and true culture of Spain. It’s those types of experiences – the little ones that have put me right in the middle of authentic Spanish living, that will stay in my heart long after I leave this incredible country. Consequently, it’s also those types of experiences that, little by little, help to transform Zaragoza from a tourist destination into a place that I’m glad to call “a home away from home”.

One of the main reasons I chose to study in Zaragoza was to have the unique opportunity to experience the richness of Spanish culture in the most direct way possible. However, I never in my wildest dreams thought that going to Spain would connect me not just to Spanish culture, but also to the lifestyles and traditions of so many other countries from around the world.

For starters, the class I’m in is made up of (easily) the most diverse group of people I’ve ever had the privilege of being in a classroom with. The nine of us (ten if you count my professor) come from all corners of the globe – Spain, Bosnia, China, Scotland, Gambia, Taiwan, Nigeria, Japan, and the United States. And that’s just within my class… I’ve made friends from other classes at my school from France, Ghana, England, Russia, and Jamaica. Therefore, the discussions that we have had in class about culture have been particularly rich in content. I’ve listened to Bosnian music, have sampled authentic sushi from a Japanese friend who made some especially to pass around at school, and have attempted to learn a few words here and there in French. It’s like an incredible double-shot of culture that couldn’t be more perfect: there’s nothing quite like enjoying a Spanish cup of coffee at a café with a friend from another country, talking about how the culture in Spain is both similar and different to our own lifestyles back home.

The men's handball team from Belarus huddles before their game against Saudi Arabia.

Yet another unique global experience that I’ve cherished immensely happened this past Saturday. My companions from Valpo and I decided to head to the Pabellón Príncipe Felipe (one of the athletic facilities in Zaragoza that was used during the 1992 Barcelona Summer Olympics) to watch the 2013 Men’s World Handball National Championship prelims. We saw three games total: Belarus vs. Saudi Arabia, Poland vs. South Korea, and Serbia vs. Slovenia. First of all, handball is an incredibly brutal sport. These guys have no pads and are ramming into each other and falling on the hard ground constantly – we were amazed by how intense it was! However, I think the best part of the experience was being surrounded by fans from all over the world. There were plenty of Spanish people in the crowd, but along with them were fans from each of the participating countries, decked out from head to toe in their respective colors, chanting and playing instruments and cheering for their home nation. Granted, it wasn’t a multicultural experience where I learned much about the different countries like I’ve been doing at school and through conversations with my friends. However, being (probably) the only Americans in the stadium, surrounded by such a colorful variety of different languages and cultural heritages was both humbling and exciting, and made the experience of watching this sport live so much more enriching.

There are so many little things around the world that don’t change, regardless of cultural norms or language barriers. I think that’s one of the things I’m learning with the most clarity out here, both in my connections to Spain and in my connections to the rest of the world, however tiny they might be. Things like sports, food, family, and a good sense of (culturally respectful!) humor can bring complete strangers together and erase the boundaries that are put up by distance and unfamiliarity. It’s a wonderful surprise to be experiencing so much global culture out here, and is only adding to the appreciation I have each day for the culture and knowledge that I’m acquiring in Spain.

This is probably going to sound incredibly obvious, but I feel like I’m living in a completely different world than the one that I’m used to. And yes, there are plenty of factors that contribute to that statement – the language (duh), the buildings on every block that are older than the United States, the cobblestone streets, the abundance of mopeds and tiny cars, or the laundry hanging from balconies to air dry. However, the biggest difference I’ve noticed between living in the U.S. and living in Spain is this crazy concept of the “Spanish Clock.”

Being born and raised in the fast-paced, “every second counts” American culture, living as a pseudo-Spaniard has come as an immense culture shock. I’m sure you’ve heard the stereotype that pokes fun at how the Spanish are never on time. That stereotype is true. On my first day of classes last week, my professor told us that she likes to sleep in, and will probably show up 15-20 minutes late to class on a daily basis. Like, no biggie. I just kind of show up when I want to.

As strange as that was, what I’ve found to be even stranger is the fact that the entire city shuts down at 1:30 pm to go to lunch. With the exception of some restaurants, every single business that I pass on my way home from school each day – from banks to pharmacies to clothing stores – has its doors locked up tight and its lights turned off. Kids get out of school at this time, too, only to return later in the afternoon. The busy streets clear out as people go home, traffic is nonexistent. To my American mind, it’s surreal – like every day at 1:30, someone turns off the power switch and doesn’t turn it back on until 4:30 or 5 pm.

Zaragoza comes back to life in the evening after taking a few hours of siesta time.

Another aspect of the Spanish clock that is still taking a lot of getting used to are the mealtimes. Lunch here doesn’t happen until between 2 and 3 pm. It’s the biggest meal of the day, and for my host family (and most families here), it’s the time of day when everyone in the house comes together around the table to catch up. After lunch, everyone takes a siesta – a nap/chill-out period ranging between an hour and three hours. The city comes back to life after that, and people go back out to run errands, go for a jog, or to get back to work for a few evening hours. Dinner is usually much smaller than lunch is, and is usually between 9:30 and 10 pm (I feel like I may never get used to how late that is!)

In the end, what I think it comes down to is that the Spanish live with different priorities than what we have in the United States. Time spent resting isn’t considered to be time wasted – in fact, it’s a crucial part of each day that’s built into the rhythm of even the most buzzing of Spanish cities. You don’t see anyone hustling to work with a to-go bag in their hands, or chugging a travel mug of coffee in the car. Instead, you see people sitting at cafes for hours, indulging in good conversation and good food, paying no attention to the thought of the work that awaits them back at the office. It’s definitely a different way of living, and although I don’t think I’ll return to the states with a “Spanish Clock” engrained in my mind, I’ll certainly take with me a valuable lesson about remembering to find some time each day to simply be peaceful.