My Commute to School in Spain: Bahs and Barks and Bliss, Oh My

Where I come from in Minnesota, students do not walk to school. The frigid cold weather persuades us to stay in the warmth of our heated vehicles. We search for the parking spots closest to the entrance and rushedly waddle across the slick sidewalks, anxious to “re-bundle” ourselves inside the “snuggly blankets” (also known as the buildings with central heating). Even if it were warmer in Minnesota (a realistic hypothetical since #globalwarmingishappening), the distance between the school and most of the students’ houses is too great to make a daily journey on foot. When I was in high school, my commute to school took about 10 minutes by car. Here in León, my walk to school takes 10 minutes. And I am not the only person making the commute by foot. Come rain, come shine, come snow, students make the trek from their nearby villages to the harrowing halls of their institutions. I often wonder if the students find as much delight in their daily expeditions as I do...

... But, to be frank, I really doubt anyone has as much fun as I have when they walk home from school. I suppose since walking to school was never a viable option for me back home, walking to school here has become something I cherish greatly. Most students slug to school in the mornings, only looking forward to leaving once again in the afternoon to arrive at their homes, indulge themselves in lunch, and collapse on their beds afterwards. Me, on the other hand… Well, I enjoy my walk every single day. I think about the students I will teach that day, or about the students I already taught. I think about whether or not the students are secretly talking about me in code when they giggle with each other during class. I think about the pungent smell that lingers when I stride along one particular sidewalk. But what really makes my walk so delightful is the presence of one very special individual.

“Are you telling me, Cami, that you met some handsome young Spanish man that has swept you off your feet who walks you home every single day from school?!”

I’m glad you asked, ominous-voice-in-my-blog. But, no. The individual who makes my walks home so wonderful just so happens to be a ball of fluff who walks on four paws (although it is true that Dog has swept me off my feet and stolen my heart). As someone who works at a doggy-daycare back in Minnesota, the most difficult challenge in adapting to life in Spain has been the shift from being around dogs all day to... well... not being around dogs all day. Not being able to hug and kiss and snuggle with my dog every single day has been what can best be described as downright torture. So when I walked past this snuggly beast for the first time, everything felt a little bit better.

Dog was laying outside, basking in the sun. When I saw Dog, I lunged (literally) at the opportunity to get some puppy love. I approached the fence, started saying “hello cutie-patootie” in English (because language does not matter to dogs, only tonation, duh) and Dog absolutely lit up. Dog came to the fence, wagging its tail, so excited to be receiving love from an enthusiastic passerby. I was elated. I made a friend.

I visit Dog every single day now. Dog makes me not feel so foreign, because Dog doesn’t care that I only want to speak in English. Dog reminds me of Home, but also of how I took some of Home with me on my trip. More specifically, Dog reminds me how I took everything I love about Minnesota, from my love of warm “walkable” weather, to my love of teaching, to my love of dogs, and brought it here to Spain. I may miss home sometimes, but I find so much comfort when I lead with love in every step. And I know that may sound trite, but I don’t care. At least Dog understands.

Besides visiting Dog, I spend my walk listening to music and taking in whatever sunshine I can. I also greet a family of lambs, stopping to “bah” at the mothers and their babies, and receive many “bahs” in return. I guess that is another story for another time. But who knew volunteering to teach in Spain and living with a host family would lead to such amusement on the commute alone?

For now, I will simply continue enjoying my walks, unplagued by the bitter sub-zero wind chills and snow of Minnesota. And I'll say hello to Dog for you all.