“¿Tienes hambre?”

My eyes struggled to stay open as I rested my face in the palm of my hand.

“Focus,” I told myself. She just asked you if you’re hungry. How do you say “No thanks, I’ve been awake for 24 hours and all I want to do is sleep,” in Spanish?

“No mucho,” I replied, painfully aware of my lack of vocabulary.

I was sitting in the kitchen of my host family’s house, along with my roommate, Lucy, and our four year-old host sister, Andrea. We just arrived in Alicante, Spain, where we would be spending the next month of our summer studying abroad.

When I first heard about CIEE, I didn't have many expectations. But after hearing my brother rave about his experience in Seville, I knew there was no way I wasn’t going to do the same. By that September, I had already begun plotting my summer.

I excitedly submitted my application in November, and three months later in January, I was accepted into the Language and Culture program in Alicante, Spain. From the moment I read “Congratulations!” in my Gmail inbox, my face lit up with anticipation, as I started dreaming of the summer ahead.

I chose Alicante because it had everything I was looking for — a small city with a downtown, a summer festival, public transportation and most importantly, a beach. In the months leading up to my departure, I became consumed by Pinterest, envisioning myself laying on the warm sand next to the breathtakingly blue Mediterranean waters.

But as I sat at the kitchen counter, fighting jet lag and attempting to translate the rapid fire of Spanish being spoken around me, the reality of studying abroad felt much heavier than my Pinterest boards ever suggested. Despite my exhaustion and loss in translation, the month turned out to be the experience of a lifetime, and I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

My days were packed with activities, beginning promptly at 7:30 every morning in order to catch the tram to make it to my daily Spanish immersion class on time. After a 15 minute tram ride with beautiful views of the ocean, my roommate and I walked to class, more often than not stopping at our favorite cafe Masa de Tomasa for €1 pastries or coffee.

Classes were held in a rented space with designated classrooms divided by level of Spanish comprehension. By the time we reached the classroom, the relaxed morning routine disappeared, replaced by hours of speaking, listening and thinking entirely in Spanish. Our classes were taught exclusively in Spanish, and even though our teachers could speak English, they encouraged us to fully immerse ourselves, reminding us that it was the fastest way to become fluent.

After class, my roommate and I often returned to our homestay for lunch, as is common with Spain’s siesta culture. On days that we didn’t return home, we met friends at the beach to soak up the sun before our afternoon activities. Later in the day, we participated in cultural activities such as a tapas cooking class, paddle boarding and museum tours.

Since my visit aligned with the annual Las Hogueras festival, I also got to see the stunning statues and attend one of the burnings, experiencing a tradition that made Alicante feel even more alive. Two of the four weekends I was there were spent on trips to a nearby province, Guadalest, as well as a longer trip to Madrid.

Our trip to the province of Guadalest was one of my favorite experiences of the whole month because of the beautiful sightseeing and adventures. After about an hour-long drive, we visited a historic museum, hiked a small castle and took in views of the astonishing blue aquifer below. After Guadalest, we headed to the Fonts de l’Algar, where we had three hours to swim and cliff jump into the frigid but refreshing waterfalls.

In Madrid, we packed as much as humanly possible into a three day trip. From biking through El Retiro Park, dinner in La Plaza Mayor and tours of the Royal Palace and the world-renowned Prado Museum, it is safe to say I was exhausted after this trip. To make things even more tiring, we did not have subway passes in the city, so walking was our mode of transportation — my legs felt like Jell-O for the following days.

When the program finally came to an end, the excitement I had felt all month faded as I realized what my life would look like when I returned. Going home meant returning to my normal routine, but it also meant leaving behind the people and places that I had grown to love so much in just a few weeks. Sitting on the plane, I realized how much I would miss my friends.

I didn’t come home feeling transformed in some dramatic way. Instead, the change showed up in smaller moments, such as catching myself thinking in Spanish or missing the sound of conversations I didn’t fully understand. The trip didn’t end when I left Spain — it just became something I carry with me.