arriving in valencia for the second time was much more exhilarating than the first. i had come here once before as an 11-year-old with my family, accompanying my father audio engineer father on his tour with an african-american gospel choir. i was exposed to the spanish culture without a doubt, but i was too young to experience my surroundings in full because i was tied down by my parents’ schedule and i obviously did not have the skill set necessary to create an itinerary for myself. i was incredibly jealous of my sisters, eight and 10 years older than me, for being able to experience the city’s nightlife scene and explore the city in a local sense.

i remember the graffiti, my parents allowing my first sip of sangria, the culture that is impossible to escape in the alleys that weave throughout the city but this time — this time was different.

i had decided to take this journey alone — granted, several other students were participating in the program but this was my first time flying solo internationally. landing on valencia soil was coupled with a sense of independence that was certainly familiar to me but heightened at this moment.

our host parents, carmina and santiago, immediately generated a warmth about them. i hadn’t had a sit-down dinner with my family since the seventh grade and participating in dinner table conversations wasn’t exactly something i was used to. the two of them live a calm lifestyle — pausing in the middle of their afternoon to have a meal and drink wine together. although i’m not typically a morning person, sitting down at the breakfast table with pan con cafe and striking up a conversation with santiago allows me to start the day with a fresh mind. it is a paradox of sorts — people run on structured schedules and adhere to the tradition of ‘siesta’ but it feels almost as if there is no structure at all. i admire the energy of the people here. they make it a point to enjoy every moment in the day and can appreciate the simpler things in life without worrying about the tedious details or stressing about a day that has yet to come.

at times, i feel somewhat lost — certainly because i don’t know the language and because i feel the need to rely on some of my spanish-speaking classmates to connect with the community. i don’t want to come across as an uncultured person and i wish i could communicate on an intimate level with people here the same way i do at home. however, i know that my experiences are my own and how i interact with this country and these people will affect my perspective as a journalist and as a human. i want to tell people’s stories and i guess i feel stuck. i want to be authentic in my approach and return to san francisco with a deepened understanding of the world and the people who inhabit it. although i am primarily here to “do good journalism,” as my high school newspaper advisor karl grubaugh would say, i want my experiences in valencia to count for something. when i look back on distinct times in my life, i remember specific moments in which i felt complete and pure bliss — the moments that cannot be captured through any camera but stand out the most.

i would say a fitting word for my first impression of valencia would be ‘wonder.’ i’m not interested in seeing valencia through the lens of a tourist — grasping only onto a surface level idea of its roots — but immersing myself in absolutely everything the spanish culture has to offer.