I made it home, but what a journey!
How boring would life be if everything always went smoothly? Would we have that unbelievable experience to tell people about that we got only by bumping into unplanned circumstances? How many people get to celebrate their birthday in Paris with a "Happy Birthday" song in French at midnight? What other stories do we miss out on by not taking risks and facing the challenges life throws our way when things don't go as planned?
After my classes ended, I spent a week resting and getting ready for my return trip. Boy, did I ever need the strength I built up for the journey! Between buses, trains, a delayed flight, hotel rooms, broken luggage, and inaccessible elevators, I definitely had my work cut out for me trying to get home. I did get to have an extra eight hours to celebrate my birthday though, so there were a few silver linings.
The lease for my apartment in León was up the day before my bus ticket was scheduled, so I loaded up my things and moved to a hotel next to the bus station. The hotel had a "ramp" to the front door, but it was the biggest joke. They had built the ramp to the same angle as the already existing stairs, and I don't even think it would have been useful for luggage. Thankfully, they had a parking garage under the building with an elevator, so I was able to enter through the garage door and get to my room that way. As much as I love León and treasure my time there, I'm definitely not going to miss having to fight so hard to get everywhere I want to go that's not set up for life in a wheelchair.
My bus left the next morning. I had to transfer busses three different times along the way to France, and that was a tough leg of the journey. To start off, my luggage support system broke just a block before I got to the bus station. I don't know if I overloaded it or what exactly happened, but it came all discombobulated. Thankfully, I was able to rig it all together and still make it where I needed to go. That series of bus rides was long and exhausting. I took an antinausea medication for the first time, and I have no idea why I've never done that before. It worked wonders! During the first bus ride, I chatted with the lady sitting next to me for two hours. She didn't know a lick of English, so it was encouraging to know I could carry on an in-depth conversation in Spanish.
I stayed my last night in Spain at a small hostel right on the border between Spain and France. They put me in an accessible room, but Spain hasn't figured out that accessible rooms need wider doorways. I didn't damage the doorway, but I knew exactly how it had been buggered when I saw the low, deep scrapes in the doorframe.
Rolling away from that hotel, across the bridge over the river separating the two countries, and into France the next morning was a little emotional, of course, but triumphant at the same time. I did it, you guys, I DID IT!!! I lived alone in a foreign country for an entire semester in a wheelchair. What's not to love about an accomplishment like that?
I wasn't in France for five minutes before I became painfully aware that my Spanish fluency was no good at all, and my English wasn't much better. No one spoke either language. It makes you feel like an infant to be unable to communicate your needs. I know a few basic words and phrases in French, but limited isn't a strong enough word to describe my French vocabulary. Thankfully, the French people are very polite, and the folks at the train station upgraded my seat to first class and helped me with all my luggage. That was the most care-free ride I've ever taken in my life. Given the chance, I'd take a train ride over an airplane any day of the week. I was able to just listen to some audiobooks and crochet. It was very pleasant and a nice recovery from the previous day's bus rides.
The hotel I stayed in that night in Paris was amazing. They apologized that they didn't have a wheelchair-accessible room, but I'm telling you, the "inaccessible" room I was in was WAY bigger and more accessible than any "accessible" room I had during my travels through Spain on field trips. The elevator wasn't huge, but it was big enough to fit all of me and my luggage at the same time, so that felt like a luxury to me.
My flight the next day was doomed from the start. It was delayed over and over for eight hours in all. Then we all loaded onto the plane and sat there for five hours because they were having technical difficulties. They ultimately had to deboard the plane and put us all up in hotels for the night. That was an experience all in its own. It took them two hours just to shuttle the people in wheelchairs over to the hotel. While we were waiting for the shuttle, I chatted with the other disabled passengers. They were all from the US and spoke English. At midnight, I announced that it was my birthday, so everyone sang, "Happy Birthday" to me, and the airport crew sang it again in French. How's that for a cool story?
It was two in the morning before I got settled into my hotel and asleep. I had to get up at six in order to make it to the airport in time, and then they never sent the shuttle for me like they were supposed to. I ended up paying a taxi driver to take me over there so I could make it in time for my flight. I wasn't about to deal with the hassle from the day before all over again. This flight went smoothly, and we landed in Salt Lake City as scheduled. My luggage didn't make it, but I did, and my friends met me there and drove me home. Because I was driving east to west, I gained an extra eight hours while I was in the air, so my birthday was officially 32 hours long. It was, in more than one sense of the word, the longest birthday of my life.
Through it all, I was actually pretty calm and unruffled by everything. The slow pace in Spain may have left a permanent calm on my character, I don't know, but I do know that I didn't struggle under the stress like I know I would have a couple of years ago. It was a difficult situation, but I was able to take it all in stride, and I'd say that's definitely something worth the journey. Oh, and my luggage did eventually make it to a local airport a few days later, so all was made right in the end.
I went on this journey to Spain and back with a few clear-cut goals in mind. 1. I wanted to protect my fragile health, and 2. I wanted to become fluent in Spanish. While not perfect, my health was much improved, and I now consider myself "fluent though still growing" in Spanish. The much greater accomplishment from the journey, however, was the personal growth I made along the way. I left afraid and unsure of the future. I returned confident that I can overcome any challenge. I left stressed and easily upset by hardships. I returned knowing that there's always a way around the obstacles. Be it cobblestone streets, steps into a store, language barriers, or delayed flights, nothing can stop a soul that is determined to press forward and reach her goals. I returned knowing that I can do more than survive; I can thrive. With God, all things are possible.
So, what's next? I have some amazing goals and plans for the next year. It might not be as cool as going to Spain, but I know something wonderful will be happening, and I can't wait to see what it is, so stay tuned for the next big episode...
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