No Habla Español
I felt musty. I felt like my body had been rolling around in dirt, washed in dirty water, and then dried off with a dusty towel. I hadn’t slept in over 24 hours and I felt like a walking zombie. I was excited but very nervous. I had never traveled alone before and I had never been to Europe. So I thought, sure, It’s smart to do both at the same time. As I stepped into the Barcelona airport it was 2 a.m. I was overwhelmed by the amount of people who had also gotten off of the plane and rushed towards one direction. Naturally, I got swept away with the crowed. I followed the herd of people around some corners and down a flight of stairs to the baggage claim. To my surprise the luggage rolled down the conveyer belt quickly. As each suit case bopped out, I realized this was the moment of truth. I made it all the way from LA to Spain, but did my luggage? Black bag, black bag, blue bag and yes! Finally, red! My luggage was in Spain and so was I, now it was time to figure out how the heck I was going to get to my hostel.
As I left the baggage claim and followed the flow of people to the exit. I approached a man dressed in a security type uniform and said “Hello.” The man just stared at me… I continued, “Do you know how to find the bus? Or a taxi?” blank faced the man shook his head and said “no hablo.”
In that moment I almost started to cry. How could I have forgotten the huge language barrier standing in the way of me and finding the hostel. All the Spanish I knew was useless unless I was trying to find the bathroom.
I had no idea how to form a sentence, let alone ask for means of transportation. Half asleep and on the verge of tears I walked around the airport looking for someone who might know English. Finally, I found a business woman who was working at a car rental kiosk. I walked up to her table and ask, “Habla English?” she laughed, probably at my pronunciation, and said, “Yes I know a little.” Feeling more relieved I asked her how I could get from the airport to downtown Barcelona. She told me that the bus was probably the fastest way. Perfect, I thought. That didn’t seem too hard. I walked out of the airport and checked my phone 2:15 a.m. Now, I may be over exaggerating a little, let me remind you I was delirious, but when I looked up from my phone it seemed like there were millions of people outside the airport. People were shoving, pushing and racing past one another. I had no idea which direction to even look. I saw a traffic cop and walked over to him to ask for directions. Of course, he didn’t speak English, so I had no way of asking him where the bus stop was. I remember looking to my right and seeing another traffic cop monitoring a long line of people. Were they waiting for a bus? I quickly cut to the edge of the sidewalk and realized that this man was calling taxis. I wanted to find the end of the line. I followed the line to the end of the street and it lead me to the bus stop. Oh, perfect! I remembered thinking but as soon as I leaned in to try and read about the bus directions I realized that all of the words were in, you guessed it, Spanish. I turned around and stared at the long line for the taxis’s. I looked at my phone 2:20am. At that point I really didn’t have any other option. I stood in line and waited. When the traffic cop finally got to me he helped me put my stuff in the back of the taxi and waved “adios.” Of course, my cab driver didn’t speak any English but this time all I need to do was pull up my directions. The drive to my hostel was long and quiet. I started to giggle because Justin Bieber’s new song, Despacito, was playing on the radio.
Finally, we pulled up to the hostel. In side it was hot. The hostel had a clean but musty smell, or maybe that was just me. One man was sitting in the corner of the lobby behind a desk. To my luck the man spoke English and I checked into to my room with no problem. I had only stayed at a hostel one other time and my experience was fine. However, this hostel was very strange. The man who checked me in followed me upstairs and opened the door to my room. The room was large and had about 8–9 bunk beds and there were a few people in the room who were already sleeping. The man then continued to follow me inside the room and pointed at a bed that was in the back corner pressed up against a window. I was on the bottom of the bunk bed and luckily there was no one above me. the man then left without giving me a key to the room. Disturbed by all the strangers that I’d be sharing a room with for the night I placed my luggage at the foot of the bed and laid down in the same clothes I’d been wearing for the past two days. As I tried to sleep I kept being interrupted by loud noises coming from outside. People yelling, cars honking, and dogs barking all seemed too close for comfort. I wanted to get up and shut the window but I was sweating. I felt like it was 300 degrees. I was so tired but so scared. I picked up my phone, 3 a.m. I tried to close my eyes but then I heard someone come into the room. The stranger sat down on the bunk right next to mine and opened up a bag of chips. The sound of some stranger munching on potato chips isn’t the most soothing noise to try and fall asleep to, but finally I did. The next morning my only goal was to find the train station. I grabbed my things and headed down to the lobby. There was a lady sitting behind the desk this time and she spoke English. She told me the best way to the train station was to get on the metro. The trip to the train station wasn’t nearly as bad as I had anticipated. The metro was just down the street from my hostel and the train station was just down the street from the metro. I met a guy from England who helped me find my train and told me when to get off in Valencia. Traveling alone for the first time was probably the scariest thing I’ve ever had to do. Now, however, I know a little more about traveling, and I have a feeling on the way back home I will be able to find alot more then the bathroom.
