Kaxio, Hello in Euskara 

For the past two weeks, I’ve been waking up in Donostia-San Sebastian, Spain, to locals in the Basque Country. It is very important to make the distinction. Over the weekend, I had a blast, from pintxo pote on Thursday night, to the sunrise Saturday morning, to the San Telmos Museum on Sunday. This was last Monday here. I woke up thinking, Today’s the day I write my blog–but I have no idea what I am going to write about. 

Like every day, I rushed to get out of the door for Lacunza. But I always seem to make it on time. Taking in all the breathtaking views of the waves crashing in on La Concha, the way the sun hits the Island of Santa Clara, and the locals on their daily run. These views never seem to get old. No matter how long you’re here, there is always something you never noticed.

That Evening, we met Professor Z. at Cristina Ena Park for our Basque Language course. We had sat in the back of the park, where you could still hear all the commotion of fathers and children enjoying play time, the pigeons crowing, the beat of the traditional Basque drum. I had technically been immersed in the culture for two weeks, but today it was different. As I sat and watched the faces of my peers as Stewart, our Basque teacher for the evening, passed out packets, I wasn’t just observing the culture. It has come to me that I am living in the Basque culture. It was all around, but I never seemed to notice. 

Going to the San Telmo Museum, I had gotten an insight into Basque history. It wasn’t just the prideful culture everyone talks about. I was able to see the oppression fight the Basque people fought against to get here. I felt proud to deepen my knowledge and understanding. I had been here for what seems like forever, yet I still didn’t quite understand. 

Today I was submerged in Basque. It was during the lesson that everything went silent, and I heard the whispers of my peers practicing their Basque pronunciation. When I realized I was around Basque this whole time. 

At the beginning of this trip, I was star-struck at how much of this felt like a vacation. I was going to the beach every day, shopping in the Centro, and sightseeing.

Each day I lived five different lives. What’s not to love about this city? Right as the “bell rings” and school is out, I find myself going for a walk by the beach, getting my favorite snack, acai. Then going for a swim at La Concha, getting bronzed by the sun, enjoying every waking moment of this experience.

I ended the day by the combs of the wind, what’s better than that.. Just to take in that last moment before I headed off for the night. The combs of the wind are truly an inspiring place. As I sat there listening to the waves crash on the rocks and viewing the sculptures of the past, present, and future. I could only think of the conversation with Professor Z. at the combos of the wind, how life is a journey, and we are meant to be scared. How we sometimes pride our past too much, but then sometimes life places too much emphasis on the future. When we are just trying to remain afloat, in the present, the part we can grasp. 

I watched as the different people came to touch the present, sit for a while, and have all their fears and worries gone to snip that picture, to capture it all. Then just like that, the wave comes crashing back and we are snapped back into reality. The anxiety of the future creeps in, and the hurt of the past is back. It is important to just live in the now, take it all in. 

If being in San Sebastian has taught me anything, it is to live in the now, because there is no looking back, only forward, but you can’t be out there too much. Now I have no idea what’s in store for my final days here in San Sebastian, nor the traces of memory I will leave behind or take with me. 

Mila esker, Donostia, Basque for, Thank you a bunch, Donostia-San Sebastian.