Red tape and in-the-meantime.

First off, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Rachel (nickname in Spanish is "Raquel", hence "Raqui"). I'm 23 years old, and I graduated from college 6 months ago. I was accepted into master's program in Alcala de Henares, Spain, which starts in September. I will be working on a Master's in Bilingual and Multicultural Education while I teach English in El Escorial (an hour west of Madrid).

A little background: I have a degree in Spanish and another one in Speech-Language Pathology, with endorsements in Leadership and Community Service (if those last two count).
I am the only person in my family that speaks a foreign language. I am also a first-generation college student and the only person in my family to complete a college degree. Because of this, my family doesn't really understand what would make me want to leave the country for a year and get a master's that will be worthless in my home country. But I think they're missing the point entirely.

I first visited Spain in 2010. I studied in Granada for 4 weeks, and decided to travel for another 2 after the conclusion of my program. I fell in love. With everything. I vowed to learn Catalan and live out the rest of my days in Barcelona, surrounded my Gaudi and Dali and Montjuic. But I digress.

I met some of my dearest friends during that trip. They came from the Ukraine, Turkey, the Philippines, Hong Kong, and many other countries. As cliche as it is, being in Spain felt like home: the museums, the lifestyle, the food, the language...I was enamored by everything I saw. And just as soon as it began...

...it was over. I felt a yearning that hasn't really subsided since August of 2010. When I learned I was accepted into my master's program, it felt like getting two degrees and working while I paid for everything myself had finally paid off. I had made it.

I was placed in El Escorial. It's picturesque. Absolutely lovely. I've always wanted to live in the mountains. There's a castle. It's just perfect. I'm going to ride my bike and use public transportation. And walk. Walk everywhere. I'm beyond thrilled at this prospect!

Anyway, I'm nearly done with the paperwork for my student visa. The only thing left is to get a certified and translated letter from a doctor that says I am in good physical health. Except I have no physician. Or health insurance. And there are no real criteria. Yay ambiguity and bureaucratic nonsense.

August 28 I fly away. The reason for the title of this blog (which translates to "Lost in Spain) has nothing to do with being lost in the negative sense, but rather getting "lost" in an experience (getting lost in a book, in thought, etc). I intend to lose myself in teaching English, learning more Spanish, and living in Europe for a year.

So here's to this adventure; some say I'm being foolish, some are envious, and some are just baffled why I would EVER want to leave a country like the United States when "the Euro is crashing" (not to mention self -appointed "experts" citing the movies "Hostel" and "Taken" as proof of the inherent danger in living in Europe).

So I work at the pharmacy, not languishing, not making enough money, but doing my best to save my pennies until I'm Spain-bound. And trying to keep from my employer that I'm leaving in 3 months. And fielding questions that are coming from every angle: "Are you and your boyfriend going to stay together while you're in Spain?" "Are you ever coming back?"

I'm not making any promises.