T-9 To Barcelona

{{El tiempo vuela como vuelan los papeles olvidados}}

Somehow the time has flown, the time has come, and I am officially 9 days out from leaving the States for Barcelona. I have been home from Peru for over a month and I cannot believe how fast the time with my family has run by. Marker by marker slipped past me in revelry and festivity: one-week home, the start of my mom's winter vacation, my birthday, Christmas, various events with friends, various dinner parties and get-togethers, New Years' Eve, New Years' Day and the Rose Bowl, the end of my mom's winter vacation. I am officially registered for my classes; I am taking a course in Spanish Modern Art, Spanish Cinema, and Introductory French (yes, I know, French in Spain...). Now I have only one full week and a few days left to say my final goodbyes, pack everything, write letters to the Dartmouth admissions reaffirming my desire to attend Dartmouth next fall (a resounding "Of course!"), and generally organize myself to board that early-morning flight on out.

After one time around with packing for several months away, you'd think that I have it pretty well under control and I'd be able to whip together my bags in a snap. This, however, is unfortunately very untrue. First off, the baggage restrictions are quite different; now I can take two bags of 50lbs each, not two bags of 50lbs total. That one word-difference can really limit you!! Second off, I have to take an entirely different type of clothing with me to Barcelona than I did to Urubamba. In Peru, I lived in a small town and I spent the majority of my time up to my elbows in mud, so my clothes had to be able to withstand rough conditions. And if I wasn't working, I was just hanging out with people who saw me in my work clothes, so did it really matter that much anyway? Clearly, no. I also, if I wasn't working, was exploring the outdoors, hiking, climbing mountains, you know, the usual. In Barcelona, I am living in a big, bustling, European city that is known for its art and fashion. I will be attending classes, visiting museums, and generally hob-knobbing it in a more cosmopolitan environment. This is city living, people. Even Cusco, my Peruvian big city, does not compare to Barcelona.

So what does this mean? Well, I'm still figuring it out for my bag weight (and making sure I leave plenty of room for souvenirs to bring home, of course!), but so far it's looking like more fun shoes, dresses, skirts, and a larger variety of tops. This time, I've converted the ping-pong table downstairs into my packing station. Tomorrow I'm heading out to do some of my final shopping and the great pack shall happen next Monday.

Get ready Spain, because I'm a-coming!