(#1) Desde Casa a Casa: Los Angeles, California to Valencia, Spain

“One never reaches home, but wherever friendly paths intersect, the whole world looks like home for a time”

            ~Hermann Hesse

The City of Arts and Sciences

To the student traveler, no place on Earth can compare to the peace and tranquility experienced during our short twenty-eight day break in the states. Freshman year in Europe as opposed to a normal Freshman year on campus can really confuse the hell out of anyone. It can bring out the best of us (and certainly the worst). We live in close quarters with people we’ve never met before and learn to get along. We learn to survive on our own, but in a country so unlike the one we grew up in. And, perhaps the most intimidating of all, we have to learn how to navigate the world and bring back memories to tell back home.

But I think Hermann Hesse has a point.

The country we spent four months in–– the one so unlike our own–– has truly become home. The people we live with, who were as foreign as the people who actually live in Europe, have become family members. Survival skills have become second nature, as if we had been doing it our whole lives. (Albeit, not everyone has learned.) And the world that we grew up studying in textbooks or looking up online has become as accessible as walking out into our own backyards or looking out our balcony windows. This whole traveling thing has really been a blessing, and I couldn’t be more excited to be back home for another semester.

La Mestalla- Valencia's Soccer field

If there’s one thing that I wish I could have done differently last semester, it’s that I should have been more involved in Spanish culture. And what can be more Spanish than going Valencia Fútbol games? (Note: “fútbol” will be used in its European context and is used interchangeably with “soccer”.)

In Spain, however, the myriad of Baseball parks has been replaced by an overwhelming number of Soccer fields. In passing the riverbed in Valencia–– which has been converted into a three-mile long recreational park filled with various sporting fields, but primarily for fútbol–– an hour doesn’t go by where one cannot find a group of Spaniards kicking a soccer ball. Many American kids grow up with a baseball mitt and ball to play catch with their parents; Spaniards, however, grow up with fútbol frenzy.

So, as the saying goes, if you can’t beat ‘em–– join ‘em.

In the span of one week, I attended two different fútbol matches, due in part to the fact that the tickets were so cheap. (In total, for both games, I spent thirty euros on tickets. Not complaining.) Both games were great, but nothing compared to the experience of sitting so close for the second game against Las Palmas. For twenty euros, I sat maybe 10 yards away from the field. Although we tied, to be able to sit that close felt like a once in a lifetime experience. I had never even sat that close for a Dodger game!

Me, Elizabeth, and Beth. Two of my great friends here.

Since attending these matches, I feel as though I’ve been more immersed in Spanish culture. On top of attending games, I participate in school-sponsored recreational soccer every Tuesday afternoon. Aside from sports, I try to attend as many intercambios–– language exchanges between Spaniards and native-English speakers to practice the opposite language–– as possible. Spanish music has become crucial, but Spanish Spanish music: more like Latin American music.

Living here has really brought out a great appreciation for my roots and my culture, and I really look forward to seeing what I’ll learn next. But I guess I’ll have to see where new roads take me next.

Til our roads meet again,
Christian Camacho
The Traveling 'Nole