NEVER FAR FROM HOME

BY LENA SHOWALTER

As a teenager I'd been to overnight summer camp, went on a five-week school trip to Spain the summer before my senior year of high school, and even successfully made it through my freshman year away at college—all without any homesickness. So I thought a year studying abroad in Valencia, Spain, would be just as easy. And I was right—well, about the first semester at least.

September through December of 2004 was full of many new experiences as I traveled to cities throughout Spain, Greece, and Italy. School was a great place to utilize and practice my Spanish skills. I lived with a wonderful Spanish family and was assigned a great roommate from Alaska. I quickly grew close to many of the members of my study-abroad program and family. I was constantly busy, and my weekends were full of excitement. That first semester was just what I'd envisioned my study-abroad experience to be—carefree and an amazing adventure.

But in December I said goodbye to my close friends, who were not returning for the second semester, and made my own way home to Seattle for a month's break before starting the second semester. Of course, while in Valencia, I'd missed a few material comforts like having a clothes dryer, a bigger bed, mom's home-cooked meals, and a car. But I was a bit astonished at how much I found I had missed the relationships with people close to me—my family and friends. They knew me, understood me, and truly cared for me.

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