Hasta La Vista, Baby

Published: September 27, 2021 / Updated: September 27, 2021 Vilma Life in Europe: Spain

I arrived to Spain eager to start the new chapter of my life.

2 weeks later I was ready to quit. Why? Let’s make a list:

  • I couldn’t stand the Spanish accent in Spain. In Latin America they spoke beautifully and the language was like music to my ears. In Spain, not so much…
  • The people in the Northern Spain reminded me too much of the people in my country – never a smile on the face…
  • The children did not want to learn English. It felt like they were there only because their parents could afford to pay for the academy.
  • The prep for lessons took up way too much of my free time.

Not to mention:

  • I was staying a tiny room in a tiny apartment.
  • The apartment was shared with 4 other woman.
  • I couldn’t afford a place on my own. The rental prices in town were outrageous!

Not all was doom & gloom, though.

  • Wine was good and it was cheap!

I did enjoy going for long walks on my days off.

Some days I’d walk for 10 miles or so.

But as I started working in October, the weather started getting chilly quite fast.

It was definitely not my cup of tea (or my glass of wine).

As soon as I moved there, I instantly clicked with my housemate from the UK. We’d sit at home sharing pizza at the end of the day and ponder about the fact how we ended up in cold Spain. We wanted to be anywhere but there.

I told her all about my time in Mexico. And so our secret plan was born – we would go to Mexico!

2 more weeks later we quit. Well, technically, we just left. Don’t shake your heads now, it’s not something I’m very proud of. It did take a bit of sneaking around to get the bus tickets in advance. Everybody in town knew who we were. And still, only a month after we’d come, we were back on the bus to the Madrid airport.

I don’t remember much about the flight itself or how we managed to get from the airport in Mexico to the town where our couch surfing host was waiting for us. All I remember is waking up the next morning and feeling the humidity in the air. And it felt like home.

Going sola

Published: September 6, 2021 / Updated: September 13, 2021 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

I cried when my Peruvian said goodbye to me in Berlin. It was all too familiar. I’d been in tears leaving Petoskey behind me. I’d had teary eyes when I said goodbye to Parga. And now I was sitting on a bus going from Berlin to my home country. After a strong hug and a brief kiss, he was gone.

We had left Latin America and came to Europe. My Peruvian was eager to visit. He was eager to visit every continent! To me Europe was home. It could never compare to the majestic mountains of Peru, vast desserts of Chile or Caribbean beaches.

He wanted to keep travelling. I wanted to sleep in the same bed for longer than a week. I needed a break. And just like that we parted our ways.

I had never seen him again.

I was so happy to see my family. It was great to be back.

But after two weeks a big ‘What now?’ crawled upon me. I had no idea. What DO I do now?

Back then I was the girl that lived day by day. I didn’t have a plan and I was just happy to go with the flow. Somebody called me that recently: ‘A girl who lives day by day – that’s you’. But they are wrong. Today that is definitely not me. I may be lost trying to create a perfect plan. But I am no longer the careless girl who’d drop everything at her heart’s desire.

I was 35 and I had nothing. Or, if you will, I was 35 and I felt richer than I would have ever dreamed of being. Seeing the world was my greatest achievement and the memories and experiences will stay with me forever. It’s funny how once in a memory from those hitchhiking years pops up into my head. Completely unrelated to what I am doing at that moment, yet always so welcome.

I remembered then, being at my mom’s, how much I enjoyed teaching English to those kids in Guatemala. And so I decided to get a TEFL certificate, which would allow me to travel and live abroad and make a living out of it. It was right up my alley.

200 hours online course was not easy, but it was great to remember the ins and outs of the language that I loved since I was a child. I remember how eager I was to lay my hands on the English books and magazines that my cousin got me. How I practiced my English from an old pocket book with my mom, while she did laundry (and kept telling me that she couldn’t remember much of the language!) That’s what I wanted to give to the children – that desire and that love that I had when I was their age.

I passed with flying colors and got my certificate. My poor mum couldn’t get anything out of me in the meantime, I was always sitting at the computer. I couldn’t wait to finish the course and go someplace again (so much for sleeping in one bed for long…) I always felt like that whenever I was back. It was amazing to be there, but it was more amazing to leave two weeks later.

Looking for a job as an English teacher was fun. Going back to Colombia was inviting, but the weather in Bogota didn’t warm my heart. Italy seemed interesting, but so did Spain. When the job offer from an English academy landed in my inbox, I knew I had another adventure coming. I just didn’t know it would turn out to be almost criminal.