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As most of you will know March 8th is International Women’s Day. It’s a day that I‘ve really been looking forward to this year. Throughout the academic year I’ve been preparing my classes at school, tailored towards women empowerment and gender equality and I’ve covertly been trying to make them a little bit more ‘woke’. We’ve covered topics from women’s efforts in the Second World War, the visibility of women in the scientific field, the Suffrage movement in the U.K, the Me Too movement and sexual harassment. I assumed that my students wouldn’t be interested in this acclaimed celebration. Nonetheless, to my surprise when I turned up to school yesterday, 95 % of students were wearing purple scarves. I didn’t have a clue what was going on. A sea of mauve neckerchiefs, wristband, headscarves, jumpers, lipstick and nail polish weaved past me through the saturated corridors. One of my colleagues then gave me a piece of purple fabric; she explained to me that the children were wearing these purple scarves in solidarity with international women’s day. They were acknowledging International Women’s day a day early because most of them would be striking the next day. It was amazing to see students from all creeds and backgrounds come together- unified in this one occasion. Students were handing out pamphlets, which encouraged attendance to the annual Women’s March, which is taking place today in the town centre. A large mural had been erected overnight, paintings and fact files; each providing insight about different women who inspired them. I was beginning to get inspired- I felt encouraged by the efforts my students had made. The small yet significant action of tying a piece of purple fabric is so symbolic. They want to be part of the solution and not the problem. The number of boys who were also participating particularly impressed me. In my opinion, feminism and International Women’s day isn’t just about women empowering women- that too is at the forefront of this celebration. However we do need to encourage our boys and men to engage with the cause and not alienate them from this conversation. With all this in mind I’ve decided to write a post all about the women who inspire me. It is a mixture of all races, backgrounds and ages. People that I am familiar with and others I have and will never meet in my lifetime. Nonetheless they each have made a profound impact on me- they encourage me to continue to be a free thinking, hard working young woman, who has her own opinions and ideas and uses her voice. 1. Beyoncé Now for anyone who knows me well this will come as no surprise. I could write a whole blog post- no a whole dissertation on why I believe that Beyoncé is such an inspiring individual. However I’ve promised myself that I’ll try to keep this post as concise as possible (hahaha). Beyoncé is a multi-faceted and talented human being. She has worked extremely hard in the music business and now she uses her platform to uplift others- for example when she had the 2018 cover of American Vogue she had 100% creative control. She hired the first EVER black photographer to shoot a cover for the magazine- bearing in mod that vogue has been in publication since 1892! Her widely viewed Coachella performance was used to promote HBCU’s (Historically Black College’s and Universities) and she even funds scholarships in the arts sector for lower income students. Personally, what made me look at her not only as an artist but an activist was her 2016 Superbowl Halftime performance. She performed formation- a bop as well as a song with a sobering message the music video- celebrating black culture (which has often been appropriated for so long)and our identity which has historically been used to demean black people. The song also calls out police brutality towards African American communities. Her costume choice for this performance was a deliberate choice- a nod to the Black Panther movement. This was a bold and controversial move especially on stage at the most watched television event of the year(favoured by predominately white male Americans). Beyoncé’s IDGAF attitude is what encourages and inspired me- her songs are so uplifting- many rally or female empowerment, independence and self-love. In my opinion she is a true feminist icon, artist and activist. 2. Frida Kahlo My exposure to Frida Kahlo’s body of work was actually very recent. About three years ago, when my journey with Spanish began, I began to cultivate an interest in Latin American culture. I have to thank, in part, my first year Spanish teacher Maria Victoria’s whose emphasis on women’s rights and female empowerment encouraged me to delved further. I watched the film Frida and was instantly captured by the beguiling yet tragic story of her life. I researched her work, explored further into her biography and was captivated by her self- portraits. Frida Kahlo was a woman who faced so much adversity in her life- she contracted polio when she was six years old- rendering one of her legs shorter than the other. She was also involved in a bus accident in her teen years which subsequently meant that she had to undergo numerous operations through her life and was left in constant pain in her spine and back. Her work confronts her pain- they're melancholic yet also show resistance in the face of adversity. She was politically active- a communist- and engaged in a stormy relationship with her husband Diego Riviera as well as her subsequent love affairs with people of all genders. Kahlo didn’t play by the rules. Kahlo’s work shows me that pain in life is inevitable- it’s ever-present yet in different forms- physically, emotionally and psychologically but its how you deal with it that is important. You cannot give up, you have to depend on yourself and it is possible to turn traumatic experiences into beautiful art. 3. Mary Seacole I remember studying about Mary Seacole in primary school. I was inspired to hear about how a Jamaican nurse was able to set up her own nursing home during the Crimean war. Yet I was saddened to hear her treatment post-war. Despite her contributions to nursing, she faced many obstacles in receiving the recognition that she deserved. For a long time I wanted to be a nurse, and then a doctor- this is before I realised that I was hopeless at science and was much better suited to the artistic and humanities sector. Seacole was a huge inspiration for me and I still have a painting of her framed in my bedroom to this day. As a Black woman in the mid 19th century opportunities were not landing at her feet. I loved how she made her own opportunities- she was selfless and caring yet it pains me to think that her skills and experience were denied due to strong racial prejudice. She even applied to work alongside Florence Nightingale in her team of nurses however, surprise surprise, she was rejected despite being more qualified by most (I wonder why). Nonetheless she still went to Crimea and set up her own boarding-house “The British Hotel” helping soldiers on the front line- returning to England years after the war penniless and her contributions unrecognised. Her efforts have been echoed by Black British nurses from the Windrush generation and even to this day who are still stigmatised and suffer racial discrimination despite offering a level of professional care. Nursing to me is one of the hardest professions in the world- it requires a level of medical skills as well as compassion- a rare combination. Seacole is still an inspiration to me because she decided that regardless of all the obstacles placed before her she was still going to do what she believed was right- helping those who need it. She has instilled in me selflessness- something that I strive to foster and grow each day. 4. My female teachers Throughout my scholastic career I have been lucky enough to be surrounded by so many encouraging female (and male) teachers. From primary school up until my university days I have always found a large support network amongst my teachers. Yet there are three who have truly made an impact on me. Firstly, my year six teacher Miss Mason. She was one of my favourite teachers at school; she could be strict but also she knew how to encourage me- especially whilst I was going through the transition between primary and secondary school. My second shout out is to one of my English teachers Miss Lawson. She was only at our school for two years but she made a bigger impact on me more than she probably knows. She made English literature really interesting for me- it was in those years that I developed in interest in public speaking and poetry. She made me fall in love with Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream however, I am eternally grateful for seeing something in my acting skills and casting me as Alice in our school production of Alice in Wonderland. She always reassured me that I was cast that role for a reason- despite an unfortunate incident surrounding my casting, which culminated in my first experience with racism. She made me feel valued and deserving of the role and for that I am truly grateful. My third and final teacher on the list is probably my favourite- Mrs Ripolles. She was my drama teacher from year nine until A level. our drama group had such a tumultuous time during year 12 and 13 yet she was always there to encourage and support us. She helped me become more confident in my acting ability and supporting me in my acting endeavours outside of school. She was also someone I could confide in and talk to and her ability to help avert a meltdown during our drama rehearsals! Mrs Ripolles still continues to inspire me to this day; she didn’t take any rubbish from anyone- she reminds me of my mum and during those years she was like a second mum to me too and I'm truly grateful for all the support that she gave me. 5. Christine and the Queens Christine and the Queens- now known as Chris- is an artist that I actually didn’t like initially. The first time I saw her performing on The Graham Norton show I thought was a little pretentious. However, now, I’m one of her biggest cheerleaders. Her second album Chris has really inspired me- I loved Chaleur Humaine as it deals with ideas of acceptance and identity however Chris takes that one step further in her most recent album. It is a collection of songs that deconstruct gender and female sexuality. It is powerful, the lyrics are controversial and I love it. Chris, to me, is someone who is unapologetically herself. She’s like an artistic chameleon- she changes her style and look, playing around with different genres of music. Yet she is still Chris. She questions societal norms; gender stereotypes questioning female desire and sapphism and asks, “Why can’t I be that and more?” I love her boldness and defiance in the face of patriarchy- how she melanges masculinity and femininity- rather than compromising. Over the past few years she has been someone who I have personally looked at when dealing with personal identity crises. I now look at gender, sexuality and labels in a different light- she reminds me to be my authentic self, and that its okay to go through waves of confusion and discovery because they go hand in hand and are part of our journey. 6. Maya Angelou A recurrent theme in this list is women who have tacked adversity and struggles. Maya Angelou is no exception. I read her novel I know why the caged bird sings last year and it truly opened my eyes. Angelou understand the meaning of trauma and struggle- she was a sexual assault survivor and also former sex worker. She however, didn’t let her past define her. She utilised all of her experiences and metamorphosed them into her literature. Female African- American writers are some of my favourites and Angelou ranks highly in my list- she, as well as Toni Morrison and Alice Walker, depict a narrative that is both familiar yet foreign to me. Framing the black female narrative is something that resonates with me- in certain aspects I can relate with her yet each time I read her work I come to different conclusions. Angelou’s work is symbolic and harks to a time of injustice- something that unfortunately is still prevalent in today’s society. Angelou highlights that we, as black women, are faced with more hostility and challenges than most not only as black people but as women too- yet we strive to overcome this and showcase our best selves, overstepping the obstacles thrown in our way. 7. The matriarchs in my family: My mum, my aunties and Mya. My mother’s side of the family has always had a heavy female influence. My mum is one of six children (three boys and three girls) and they were raised by a single mum; my Nanna. From my point of view the women in my family seem to be ones that have their sh*t together. My nanna raised six kids single-handedly whilst working. No one is perfect but she loves her kids unconditionally. I look up to my aunties Michelle and Janice- they’ve shown me that with hard work, determination and kindness you can achieve anything- whether that is owning your own house to starting a successful business based on your passion. My cousin Mya and I have always had a close bond- I see her more like my sister than a cousin. She’s always there for me and I can always rely on her for good advice. She was the first person in our immediate family to go to university- I admired that so much and I remember going to her graduation bursting with so much pride- seeing all of her hard work sparked something in me and gave me the push and the drive to also go into further education university too. Despite all of the obstacles she’s faced in her life- she is a wonderful mentor and has the most positive attitude, she’s one of the strongest people I know and I’m lucky to have her in my life. The biggest inspiration however is my mum. I love her unconditionally- she is my rock and although we butt heads sometimes I wish in some ways that I was more like her. I can be a soft person- too forgiving and don’t speak up for myself enough. My mum is the complete opposite. She knows who she is she is assertive, strong, speaks her mind and always encourages me. She’s one of the most resilient people I know and if I ever have children I would hope to be at least half the mum that she is. And there you have it, that’s my list of all of the women who inspire and encourage me day to day. Of course there are male role models in my life too- but I think that today, above all it is imperative that we take a moment to reflect and concentrate on the women who inspire, encourage and motivate us. More women who also inspire me: - King princess: she is a singer song-writer redefining how we look at lesbianism in pop music and what it means to be queer. Her songs are tender, delicate and deal with love, relationships and the feminine. - Oprah Winfrey: Of course Oprah is a huge inspiration to myself and other women around the world. She is a literal definition of the American Dream story- her rise to success shows us how hard work and determination supersede adversity and strife. -Michelle Obama: This woman has paved the way for so many women- her commitment as first lady as well as her enduring grace and courtesy when faced with the likes of Donald Trump has always amazed me. -Emma Watson: I think that she is just an incredible human- not only is she a talented artist but also a dedicated and generous philanthropist who uses her platform and her eloquence to highlight issues which surround us.

So, this week I've decided to do something a little different. I love blogging, writing and playing with words. However when myself and my friends Paige and Jacob went to Milan I wanted to capture our trip in a different form, so I made a vlog. A vlog- for some of you guys who aren't up to date with millennial speak- is a port-manteau of 'video-blog'. I wanted to show my personality in a video, without being heavily edited and to show you what its like totravel with me. However, this was easier said than done- my video is a simple D.I.Y job- the first edited video that I've made- it was filmed on an iPhone and edited on one too so please don't expect high level production quality. I debated heavily about posting it but I decided why not? I had fun filming and whilst I may not have a future as a YouTuber I definitely learned some tricks and tips along the way. Now I am far from a good vlogger- if anything I would argue that I'm sub-par but I definitely learned a few new things from this vlogging experiment: a) It's not easy at all- finding the right camera angle is a struggle, making sure its facing the right way (whoops- hence why most if not all of this video in portrait and not landscape mode). b) Its time consuming- when I travel I want to relish the moment and to log means setting up the shot and sometimes repeating yourself. Also editing a video- even though it may only be 6 minutes long- is so time consuming! c) I ramble a lot. I mean, I already knew that but blogging highlighted to me all of the little fillers that I use, hedging techniques and my weird little quirks that not many of you get to see. However, I didn't want to made this a superficial and highly edited video, it's unfiltered and it captured what a great time I had travelling with my friends. I'm not very good at culling content and I have six minutes of footage from the first day alone. So, there will be a part two which will explore in greater depth the second day of our trip. I'm super anxious about putting this up but it all falls into my philosophy of trying new things- if you like it then great! If you don't... then maybe don't tell me haha (all jokes aside I would love some feedback- you can always learn from constructive criticism). So sit back, relax and I hope that you enjoy the video!

As a young Black-British female teaching English in a predominately white Spain- I’ve found that conversations surrounding race don’t tend to come up very often. I mean, why would they? Generally people avoid discussions about things that they believe don’t necessarily concern them- for example I’m not going to start a debate about the political tension between North and South Korea because frankly a) I don’t know enough about the subject in order to start an informed dialogue about it and b) it doesn’t directly affect my day to day life therefore to me, its something that never crosses my mind. Woke: (informal, U.S) to be alert to injustice in society, especially racism. Being woke isn't just a colloquial, fashionable word being tossed around by millennials. It means more than that. It means that people- Black people specifically- are 'waking up' to our past- paying attention and delving deeper into our history . We are being reactive, not just passive. I want to take that a step further- I don't just want myself to be "woke"; I want to impart this information with my students. It is important, now more than ever, in a world so divisive like ours that we all WAKE UP to the injustices of what has happened, is happening and will potentially happen in the future. However, February is Black History Month in the U.S.A- October in the U.K and my social media is saturated with information about revolutionary Black icons. I see pictures day to day of police brutality yet amongst them there are images and videos of hope-young Black families becoming Internet sensations making funny Tik Tok videos, little girls dressing up as Rosa Parks for school character day. It had me thinking- am I obligated to teach my students about this?I choose to follow those social media accounts, I choose to support small black owned business and I’ve found that with my travel Instagram there is an amazing ‘Black Travel Gang’ movement which encourages young black people like myself to go out and see the world- not letting the colour of our skin hinder us or deter us from expanding our world views. For me the whole concept of a Black History Month is polarising- I do believe it does more good than bad but at the same time I hate the fact that Black history appears to be constricted into one month. Black History didn’t happen in one month, it was spread over a years, centuries and I don’t find it fitting to squash it all into 28 days- the shortest month of the year. I do believe personally that we should integrate black history within our curriculum- not brush over slavery for two weeks and then learn about the Tudors for 4 consecutive years. I have a lot of grievances with the British education system but mainly in how unbalanced the teaching of history is. I loved history at school and I chose to study it to A level. At my high-school we had a more varied curriculum than most but I still argue that more needs to be done- this is a whole other blog post topic completely. We need to learn about the Windrush generation, Britain’s involvement in foreign affairs, the colonisation and aftermath in India and the West Indies. What I’m saying in plainer terms is that Britain cannot champion about being a diverse and multicultural society yet predominately only teach ‘white’ history. In my opinion they have a duty to talk about this side of history, not black list it completely. How dare they colonise and destroy whole countries yet completely sugar coat the damage that they caused? Its disgraceful- they cannot claim to be progressive and open-minded society yet completely disregard facts like this and I feel like more should be done to change this- it happened throughout my parents generation and mine- it shouldn’t happen for the next. "The more you know of your history, the more liberated you are"- Maya Angelou Now, I go to Durham University- don’t get me wrong I really have enjoyed my experience there so far but it is by far a homogenous community and I can count on one hand how many black students there are at my college in my year- and we're one the largest and most "diverse" colleges. Now, I’m not here to slam Durham's apparent lack of diversity- like anywhere it could be improved regarding racial relations. Nonetheless, what I have learned is that people- normally white people-tend to become uncomfortable when discussing race. Now, is that white guilt or something else? They aren’t accustomed to it, it doesn’t really affect them. What is this ‘it’ I’m talking about. Racism of course. The ‘R’ word, something which I’ve had countless discussions about – a word that evokes discomfort when I talk about it to anyone. The one possibility I have to always account for if someone talks to me in a disparaging way, gives me a strange look or is downright rude to me. Something that my white peers don’t even have to consider. This post isn’t about racism first of all, this post is about me realising that I’m in a position of power and responsibility and me mobilising that power to do something good. I’m a teaching assistant in a High School- I do a lot more work behind the scenes than I’m actually supposed to. In my job description I’m a ‘cultural ambassador’ working alongside the British Council, my job is to provide insight to “British Culture’. I’m not supposed to discipline the kids, set homework or mark it, teach classes or even be left alone with the children however for some reason I’m teaching 4 classes a week! I’m using this however as an opportunity to trail out teaching, to see whether its the right career path for me. So far I’m on the fence- anyone that says teaching is easy has definitely never worked in a classroom before. It’s one of the most rewarding yet challenging jobs that I’ve ever done- and I worked simultaneously in retail and service! Some days I get such joy from seeing the kids pick up a simple grammar point or if they appear slightly more interested in British culture- other days it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall as they look at me as if I’ve just grown a second head. But hey, swings and roundabouts. The past couple of months, I’ve taught some pretty simple classes- my age range is between 11 and 40 (I have two vocational classes with adults training to be lab technicians-something else I didn’t sign up for but it's all good for work experience). My classes range from teaching the difference between it, its and it is (something I still have trouble with myself) and lessons on the difference between British schools and Spanish schools. I prefer my adult classes because I have free rein on what I can teach them- the past few weeks I’ve definitely been leaning on the more ‘woke’ side of classes- talking about the gender wage gap, why there is a lack of women in science, the Me Too movement. So far, they seem to have found it really quite interesting- that is until I introduced the topic of Black History Month. To be fair I flexed my teacher powers and told them ‘we’re going to be talking about black history month for the next four sessions’. Normally I would have done it in October but since I’d only just arrived and because it is such a ‘heavy’ topic I decided to wait until I got to know the kids and could gauge their english level a little more. Now when I was at high school we had maybe one or two assemblies on black history month- the only other time we really talked about black history was always in a positive way. I remember leaving the classroom in tears in year nine after a class discussion on Emmett Till and lynching. I remember my teacher profusely apologising afterwards, telling me how sorry he was that I was upset. It wasn’t his fault; the truth hurts and history, when taught correctly, hurts harder. I remember studying slavery as part of my AS level history and Langston Hughes and the Harlem Renaissance. Yes, finally I thought something positive in Black History. It was still taught alongside the racism discrimination in the 1920s and 1930s. My God, I thought, can we not catch a break! Now the tables have turned, I’m in a position of responsibility. I have to teach this tastefully and I don’t want to traumatise my kids because of it. For me, the purpose of Black History Month is to honour our people, the unsung heroes, give them the recognition that has long evaded them. I don’t just want to talk about the Usain Bolts, the Obamas and Oprah, I want to talk about Mary Seacole, Benjamin Zephaniah, and Olive Morris. I want them to leave my classroom feeling enlightened. But you can’t teach history without the bad- as much as the British system likes to avoid the story about how the empire came to be- the true story- I want to show both sides, the injustice and the struggles but also the gains and successes that my people have had. I am not a dictionary. I am not an encyclopaedia. I tell this to my white friends a lot of the time. I am not your token black person who can give you the answer about everything to do with Black culture. However, I can give you my opinion, share my experiences and then it’s down to you to go and do the research, for you to go and do the work if you want to find out more. A few months ago one of my teachers asked me to do a presentation of Thanksgiving. I was confused; firstly I’m not even American and this tradition is alien to me. Nevertheless, I took it as a challenge, I did some research and I asked my friends, one from the states and one from Canada about their experiences. I wanted to make my kids ‘woke’ I didn’t want them to think that the pilgrims and the native Americans were best friends like all of the YouTube videos tailored to kids wanted me to. I wanted to give them an abridged but nonetheless true history- I wasn’t going to sugar-coat it for them. I told them about colonisation, the mass killings of the native people, what it means to invade and steal someone’s land about all of the problems that the English brought with them them; diseases and alcohol. On the other hand I also reiterated the point that Thanksgiving is an inclusive holiday, I used the information that my friend Paige, who is also half Inuit, told me. She told me how she celebrates thanksgiving too, that it isn’t a case of hating the white invader- yet it is important to tell the truth. Teaching these topics, not matter how uncomfortable they may be, they are still important. "Real knowledge is to know the extent of one's ignorance"- Confucius As teachers, we have such a powerful role. We provide the tools for children to grow and learn. Kids are so young and impressionable- what we teach them they take as gospel. To teach a child is one thing, but to make them want to go out, put into practise what they’ve learned is another. The ultimate goal for me, is that I want my kids to be woke- or rather aware of the world around them and to look into further- to want to learn more. I am not your token black person who can give you the answer about everything to do with Black culture. If you want to find out more here are a good starting points: Great information from the BBC about the contributions of Black Britons Black British and American figures in the literary world that are worth reading Maya Angelou Andrea Levy- Small Island is also a book and the BBC created a mini series adaptation Zadie Smith Toni Morrison Benjamin Zephaniah Alice Walker Jackie Kay- a few years ago I had the pleasure of performing in a play which Jackie Kay created in collaboration with the Roay Exchange Theatre Manchester- her poetry is outstanding and I would recommend that you check it out.

Saturday boldness On the Saturday I was actually a little exhausted from all of the socialising that I’d done the day before. I didn’t have a set plan for the day but I knew that I wanted to see El Museo de America. One of the main reasons why I chose Spanish at university was due to my interest in Latin America. Ever since my granddad told me that his mother was from Cuba, my interest in the Hispanic Caribbean had sky rocketed and I was fuelled on a quest to discover more about my heritage. I took the metro to the museum and spent the afternoon wandering the exhibitions- diving into the story of the Americas, pre-colonial up until the present- I have to say that that guy really messed up A LOT of countries- there’s no love lost for him. I recommend visiting the museum to anyone who is interested in sociology, history and anthropology. Many of the statistsics were harrowing yet I believe that it’s important to learn about our history – particularly in today’s political climate. I say ‘our’ history because it affects each and every one of us. One thing that I’ve noticed is that history is cyclical and we as humans tend to repeat things- regardless of the repercussions that have come about in the past. Breaking down the ‘us’ and ‘them’ dichotomy is more important now than ever before- it was scary to look at racial politics in the 16th and 17th century, which appeared eerily similar to the world we live in now- particularly in a Trump and Brexit era. I stayed in the Moncloa neighbourhood and found an independent coffee shop for lunch (support small/ local businesses guys). Later that afternoon I ended up in Park Retiro. It is honestly one of the most beautiful parks that I’ve ever seen. It was full of people but at the same time I didn’t seem ‘too much’. It was nice to see couples holding hands, walking their dogs and children playing. I’ve found that now that I’m single again I tend to be quite scornful and cynical of couples- that day I didn’t feel that way - it was actually really refreshing to see young and old people, couples and families spending time together. I saw the Palacio Cristal and mooched around the grounds - beginning to write this blogpost on my phone. For some reason I had reached a point of clarity, a natural pause where I just wanted to sit, pause and write. That evening I decided that I was going to do something completely out of the ordinary for me. I signed up for the hostel bar crawl- alone of course. My friend Paige had recommended it to me and I figured that it would be a great way to meet new people. I was constantly surprising myself at how bold I was on this trip. The guys at the hostel told me that it would be cheaper if I signed up for dinner that evening too. So there I was, I went downstairs for dinner- most people were in groups together. I sat down next to a guy who seemed quite approachable. I asked him ‘Hey is this seat taken’, he replied ‘Oh actually it is’- I thought ‘Wow Tash, how embarrassing’. As I started to sheepishly look for somewhere else to sit he retorted with a sly smile ‘Nah I’m just messing with you’. What a dick. He actually seemed to be a really funny guy- I found out that he was originally from New Zealand but was in Madrid for the weekend, visiting his girlfriend who worked at the hostel. His job was freelance and Internet-based so he could work from anywhere in the world. He’d been living in Brazil for a few months working in a hostel too. He was one of the most down to earth people I’ve ever met- granted he was sarcastic AF but nonetheless he made me laugh. That night I got chatting to a lot of people- a guy from Miami who was backpacking through Spain, some Italian guys who were on a lads weekend and two girls from South Africa. It began to get later and later and I grew more and more anxious about the bar crawl- it had dawned on me that the majority of people were here in groups of friends. I was one of the few people again who was alone. Nonetheless after a couple of beers and some shots in a few bars I made friends with a lovely group of girls from the States who were in Madrid for a quick weekend trip as they were studying in Italy. We got on really well and I ended up spending the majority of the night with them. It was so nice to get to know them and we all bonded over the fact that we were all going through a breakup. It was nice to talk about it with people who understood exactly what you were going through but also didn’t know you too personally to judge the situation from a biased perspective. Not so slow Sundays I woke up quite late the next day- successfully managing to make it back to the hostel with the girls- who had an early morning flight the next day! After a brief lie in I decided to have breakfast at a local café and head to the El Rastro street market. I highly recommend that you go and see it if you’re ever visiting Madrid- it has everything you could ever think of- creepy dolls, cassettes, costume jewellery, underwear- quirky Christmas gifts- everything. It’s on every Sunday and I was so tempted to buy every piece of jewellery I saw. Sunday was pretty much a day of walking for me- I wandered around the street markets, went to El Prado and Museo de Reina Sofia. I definitely prefer modern art and I loved the Reina Sofia- it had interactive exhibitions, videos and abstract art- it was so quirky each piece of work was different yet eye catching in its own way. The Prado however, wasn’t my favourite museum. There were a few pieces which I really liked but at the same time I was less interested ad visited it to kind of check off a box. That evening I was totally exhausted from all of the walking and I decided to stay at the hostel to wind down and spend time in my dorm. I chatted in French and Spanish getting to know my room mates- it was super interesting finding out where they were from and what brought them to Madrid. It was getting quite late and I was getting really hungry. Now, during my whole trip I had eaten the majority of my meals with company- pizza lunch with the girls from the tour, the ladies on the tapas tour and dinner at the hostel. I don’t mind going out for breakfast on my own but going for a meal is a task in itself. I’m always quite self-conscious eating out alone. I do worry that people will think I’m a bit of a loser eating on my own and that I don’t have any friends who want to join me. It's definitely more a mind over matter situation because a lot of the time we over analyse and assume that were are the centre of someone else attention when actually we’re on the periphery and they couldn’t care less. I went on Yelp and browsed through the best-rated vegan restaurants nearby. There was a burger place called VivaBurger which was a 10 minute walk from the hostel and I decided at 10pm, why not go? I packed a book and ventured out. Dinnertime in Spain and dinnertime in England are completely different. Before moving to Valencia the thought of eating a meal at 10pm would be unprecedented for me. Eating customs are one of the things I just simply can’t adjust to here in Spain. In England I eat three main meals a day: breakfast (usually) lunch and dinner and maybe have a snack at some point in the afternoon. Since I moved here I’ve found that Spanish people work on their own time- its very common to have a small breakfast before work, an ‘almuerzo’ at 11am- maybe a coffee and pastry or tostada and juice. Lunch is a huge affair- normally consisting of a large menu del día, which is 3 courses itself- that’s taken around 2pm/3pmish. Dinnertime is around 9pm and that’s considered quite early! So eating at 10pm in Madrid is relatively normally- the restaurants that I walked past were busy and bustling with customers. When I reached the restaurant it was actually pretty quiet. Now for me, that was more daunting than a busy restaurant. I felt that all eyes were on me as I walked in and that the waiters were paying extra attention to me because I was alone. Nonetheless I tried to ignore my ever-growing anxiety and I took out my book and ordered a vegan cheeseburger and fries in Spanish. I felt the weight of the few other customers’ eyes on me and I felt a little uncomfortable on my own. But I began to ‘fake it until you make it’ and pretended that it didn’t bother me that I was alone. As the evening drew to a close I began to feel more and more comfortable on my own- Sunday was the first day that I had spent without any interaction with anyone else- I was alone but I wasn’t lonely- I had my book, my friends and family at the end of a phone and I could strike up a conversation with anyone if I really wanted to. It was nice to follow an itinerary that I set, without having to compromise or make any changes. It was a testament to myself that I didn’t get bored of my own company that day. I went to bed full of delicious but surprisingly filling vegan food and ready for my final day in Madrid. Monday- go with the flow and wandering My final day in Madrid was actually quite a strange day- I initially was going to take a train to Toledo but after waking up a little later than anticipated as well as weighing up all of my options I decided that there were still things that I wanted to see in the capital. Now a lot of the things that I wanted to see were shut because it was a Monday- but I walked around different neighbourhoods- perusing food markets and vintage clothing shops. I even went to a bar called El Tigre which served the largest portions of tapas I’d ever seen in my life in my life- bearing in mind most of it was meat that I didn’t touch, I was still flattered by how much I got with my €2 beer! I walked all the way to the National library of Spain and saw an exhibition on Leonardo Da Vinci’s anatomical works. I bought some postcards but the icing on the cake for me was visiting the oldest chocolate shop in Madrid. San Gines boast an excellent celebrity clientele such as singers actresses and models such as Naomi Campbell. Although it was somewhat claustrophobic the hot chocolate and churros are to DIE for, I managed to strike up a conversation with an old lady and her daughter who were visiting from the Basque Country- they asked if I was travelling and where I was from. I was surprised to hear that the daughter’s husband used to work in Manchester. They say that the difference between you and a stranger is six degrees of separation and now I believe that to be true! As I headed to the train station, I felt a sense of pride and achievement. I’d spent four days alone in a capital city that I had never visited before. I had no friends or family there but I managed to survive on my own- completely in Spanish! At first I thought that the trip could be somewhat isolating and lonely, but it turns out that people are a lot nicer and often friendlier than you think. I realised that I was a sociable person; yes I do enjoy my own company and alone time but that trip allowed my to strike a balance between it all. It rekindled a fire within me and now I can’t wait for another solo trip- somewhere international next time but nonetheless I’m sure it will be just as good if not better. The memories and people that I met over the four days will stay with me for a long time- I’m glad I pushed myself out of my comfort zone and followed through on my Say Yes! philosophy. "We are what we do in order to change what we are"

**Disclaimer- this blopost was first composed in Retiro Park in Madrid. I sat on a park bench, exhausted from all of the walking and exploring of the day. I felt an urge to just write. I sat there for over an hour until the sunset. It felt raw and authentic- I didn’t want to change any parts of the entry as it felt so organic and normal at the time and now three months later I can say that my headspace is completely different.** “Initial thoughts from being in Madrid: I like it-it’s very big but in terms of a map it seems quite small. I even like how the street names are in Spanish, it sounds obvious but it’s the little things like that. On my journey here everything seemed so much more continental-signs in English, French and Spanish at the station (I didn’t realise how fed up I was of Valenciano. The tour was amazing-super informative. Irish Alex #neverforget1561. I lovvvvve flamenco! Park Retiro- people picnicking in the cold, groups of lads playing football and people on sailing boats. I imagine its like central park but more intimate- full of people and not too overwhelming.” Preface: 1st December 2018 I turned 21 years old last week. It's supposed to be a huge milestone but I genuinely wasn’t too bothered. I wanted to spend time and surround myself with people who love me and support me. So I took a flight home to Manchester and spent a lovely four days with my nearest and dearest. I couldn't help thinking though 'What does it mean to be 21?' Everyone kept on telling me that I'm not a little girl anymore, although in stature in still quite small. But I'm terms of mind-set, attitude and maturity things had definitely changed. I noticed that I hadn't changed overnight- I didn't go to bed on the 22nd November as one Tash and wake up a completely different person. I've been evolving over the past couple of months. I've had certain discoveries in myself, realised the type of person I was, acknowledged how I perceived me and how others perceived me too. This year I went through a break up. That was one of the hardest things to happen to me. It was expected but that still didn't mean it hurt any less. For the first few months I plunged myself into year abroad planning and ensuring that I had the best time in Paris. I was so busy working and living life in the fast lane I neglected my own mental health, my own feelings. I kind of shut them down and lulled myself into the security that I was over it, I'd gone through it and made it to the other side. I quickly found that this was not the case when I moved to Spain. Being in unfamiliar territory, a language which I was still getting to grips with and not having a network of friends and family around me eventually made me crack. I had some of the worst low points in my life. I felt lethargic, anxious and more importantly lonely. Loneliness is interesting as it's a sensation unique to the individual. Everyone will or has experience(d) loneliness in their lifetime. The strangest thing about it is that you can be physically be surrounded by people, communicating but still feel lonely. Over the past few months I have discovered the difference between loneliness and being alone. 'Estoy sola' in Spanish can both mean 'I am alone' or I am lonely. I used to believe that they were both negative things however I'm quickly learning that being alone isn't always a bad thing. The week after my 21st birthday I wanted to test myself. To monitor my period of growth I planned a solo weekend trip to Madrid. It took a lot of balls to book the tickets and after extensive discussions with- well everyone- and a multitude of pros vs. cons lists I decided 'why not?'. I figured that even if it turned out badly I would still have something funny to look back on. The only person stopping me from booking the tickets was me. I'm definitely my own saboteur and often the little voice on my head pops the balance and prevents me from doing things. Nonetheless I booked a four day stay to Madrid. Alone. Present day: 28th January 2018 The night before I couldn’t really sleep- mainly because I knew that I had to be up at 6am the next day to make my train. I was thinking to myself ‘What the hell are you doing Tash?’. I had made plans to meet up with another girl from uni on the Saturday but apart from that I didn’t know anyone in Madrid. I would be staying in a hostel for the first time alone- I wanted to stay in my bed and not go. Nonetheless I quickly remembered how much money I’d sunk into this trip- I couldn’t back out now. Friday- Monday I could definitely do this. Friday- excitement I woke up the next day to find myself surprisingly excited to go on this journey- I managed to make it to the train station after a close call- who knew that buses didn’t run at 6am? After making a mad dash from my taxi I managed to (miraculously) make my train with 2 whole minutes to spare. I slept for the whole journey and was in Madrid two hours later. I didn’t really have any plans for that day- objective numéro uno was to find the hostel and check in- I also had booked onto a Sandeman’s free walking tour at 10am. Anyone who knows me well can vouch for the fact that I’m a mess when it comes to maps and navigation- however the moovit app didn’t fail me this time and I managed to get from one side of Madrid to other with ease. I loved the metro- which is so weird since usually they normally stink of pee and are overly crowded. Granted, I was caught in the commuters rush but it was comforting hearing the stops called out in Spanish- it really is the little things. Friday was a bit of a whirlwind- I checked in and headed straight to the tour. It was honestly one of the best tours I’ve ever been on- our tour guide Alex was so charismatic and funny- his main line of comedy was taking the mick out of all of the Americans on our tour. He walked us through (literally) 400 years of Spanish history, from the Inquisition, the dictatorship- pretty much everything. This was when the first challenge of the day arose. There were a lot of people in the group but I was one of the few on my own. There were two girls- who seemed to be best friends- chatting away. The seemed quite friendly and approachable and I made it my mission to talk to them. As weird as it may seem I was determined to say something to them. I took me about halfway through the tour before I even managed to say ‘Hi, where are you guys from?’I felt an immense sense of pride- even just putting myself out there. My courage paid off as we got chatting and they invited me to head to the cathedral with them, see a Christmas show and then for a pizza lunch. In the course of the afternoon I learned that they were from the Czech Republic and were Erasmus students here for the weekend. I really appreciated that the girls took the time to get to know me and invited me to hang out with time- it was the small gestures which are really impressionable. I didn’t have a true plan for the Friday and I’m sure that I would have found things to do but I’m really glad that I plucked up the courage to talk to them. Later that afternoon I went to the botanic gardens- I don’t know if its because my dad works in horticulture or whether its my love for cacti but botanic gardens are always comforting to me. I paid my €3 entry (with student discount) and wandered around, pawing over every plant and even wandering into an exhibition of needlework. I took my time and I stayed right until closing time. I debated whether to visit the Prado, as its located right next door but I’d booked onto a flamenco and tapas tour with Sandemans at 7pm so I didn’t want to rush. That night was one that I’ll remember for a long time. I was slightly nervous about the tapas tour- there was a group of 7 of us- again I was the only person on their own. It didn’t phase me at first- what did throw me off was that the tour was completely in Spanish! I shouldn’t be surprised, I was in the capital and the other ladies were from Venezuela, Mexico and Chile. I was the odd one out- as well as being alone, my Spanish level could only take me so far. The tour guide sensed that I felt like a fish out of water and started to translate everything. I appreciated the effort but It made me feel like even more of an outsider- I just wanted to blend in- after all this was great aural practise- I really wanted to immerse myself but the ‘English girl’ label followed me around. Nonetheless the tour was super interesting and the food was amazing. The icing on the cake was the flamenco show- as someone who has danced their whole life I didn’t think I would be blown away by the show as much as a I was. It was in a small club, the stage covered most of the room and there was a live band. I love Spanish guitar but coupled with the vibrato of the singer’s voice made me fall in love with it even more. The costuming was superb- reds, pinks and black lace- the skirts swinging with ease each turn that they made. What resonated with me the most was the passion that they had- their facial expression told a story- they were fully in tune with the music, both rhythmically and emotionally. They made me feel whatever they wanted me to feel- I felt happiness sadness, distress and awe all within the space of 2 minutes- my mood changing with every move they made. If there is one thing I can recommend that you see in Madrid is the flamenco shows. I managed to make conversation with the ladies from the show they told me about their lives in Latin America, what they were doing in Madrid, their favourite sights to see- they really included me and I felt the imposing ‘English girl’ label start to fade. They appreciated that I tried to speak Spanish with them and that I was interested in their life stories. I went to bed that night full; full of amazing Spanish food- we definitely got our value of money- and full of happiness and anticipation for what the rest of the trip had to offer.

Ever since I was a child I have adored anime. My interest began with Studio Ghibli’s “Spirited Away” which I remember seeing on television for the first time when I was eight or nine years old. I loved the detail in the animation, the clear and lucid sound of the Japanese language. This chance encounter subsequently led me to purchase not one but TWO copies of the film as well as delve into Hayao Miyazaki’s repertoire. I’ve always preferred to watch subtitled anime rather than dubbed versions and I too have nurtured this hobby by binge watching series like Attack on Titan, DeathNote. I suppose you could say that it runs in the family- even my dad is an avid consumer of this genre. In the past few years I have drifted away from anime, I’m far more susceptible to the gritty independent dramas or cheesy romcoms rather than a Japanese animation. But a few weeks ago I found myself drifting back to Nextflix’s anime category. I stumbled upon a film called “Your name” which sparked me to watch anime anthology “Flavours of Youth” and now “A Silent Voice” (directed by Naoko Yamada). Today’s post isn’t about travel but more in terms of cinemas a self-reflective tool. As I was watching “A Silent Voice” it got me thinking- what lessons can we take from adult animation and is anime simply for ‘nerdy’ teenagers or can it resonate with a wider audience? I must admit that I would often tease my dad for watching anime which I thought were clearly targeted to pre teens and young people. However, upon reflection, I think that a lot of anime has a covert, deeper meaning within them- particularly “A Silent Voice”. So what is anime? According to Merriam Webster anime is "a style of animation originating in Japan that is characterized by stark colourful graphics depicting vibrant characters in action-filled plots often with fantastic or futuristic themes". A quick preface about this article- it is a review of the film- I will try and be as transparent as I can and avoid spoiling the story. What I will say is that it is a film that mediates on themes, which are perhaps sensitive for anyone younger than 14 years old. All is not what it seems initially in ‘A Silent Voice’, which ruminates on disability, suicide, bullying and mental health, strained familial relationships whilst also being packaged somewhat deceptively in child-friendly animation form. The film centres on Shōya Ishida, a troubled young man who at the beginning of the film sets out to commit suicide. We are not fully aware of his reasoning nor justifications to this action however as the film progresses we discover that his decision is driven by his guilt over mercilessly bullied a young deaf girl in primary school (Shōko Nishimiya). Throughout the film we see how their relationship develops as Ishida grapples with guilt, shame whilst in s state of social isolation from his peers. The focal subject matters of the film are bullying, social exclusion as well as deafness and the (in)ability to communicate. One thing that struck me the most about A Silent Voice is that it includes illustrations of Japanese sign language. Now, I must confess that I was somewhat ignorant in my understanding of sign language and its universality amongst the deaf community. That being said I think that its important to mention some of the misconceptions that I had- as embarrassed as I am about them, as some of you guys may also share these preconceived ideas. I did a little research- because knowledge is the best weapon against ignorance and I found out that: • Sign language is not one universal language and that there are many different types- one gesture in Japanese sign language may be completely different to French or English sign language. • Around the world there are approximately 70 million people who communicate using sign language. • There isn’t a universal ‘English’ sign language. I read that British Sign Language (BSL) and American Sign Language (ASL) aren’t even from the same family of sign language. There are different gestures for different words and phrases- just because in the UK and the U.S English is spoken it does not mean that the deaf community will automatically understand one another. • Sign language has its own grammatical and lexical rules too. • Within the deaf community sign language is not the only mode of communication- lip reading, oralism, writing phrases down are also other methods of communication. Now I was simultaneously surprised and embarrassed that I lacked such basic understanding about these fundamental elements in the deaf community. It dawned on me that I have used my privileged- as someone who is does not have impaired hearing -to completely overlook these facts. I don’t need to know anything about deaf culture therefore so I’ve chosen not to research into- until now. ‘A Silent Voice’ not only provided further insight into Japanese culture but also some understanding as to what it is like to be a deaf teenager- a perspective which is seldom, if ever, portrayed on screen. I found that although, I couldn’t resonate completely with the character of Nishimiya and being deaf, I felt pulled towards her- particularly when she was being bullied. Now I know that my readers will probably be split into three categories here; firstly you may have been the victim of bullying at some point in your life, secondly you perhaps were the bully or thirdly you were lucky enough to have never experienced bullying at all - from either perspective. A lot of people have been in the first position and from my own understanding it is extremely common for the ‘bullied’ to one day become a ‘bully’ themselves and experience both sides. Nonetheless, I have fallen into the first category of experienced bullying in school. Now, as someone who has been bullied you can understand that I find it hard to be compassionate towards those who portray the ‘bully’ character. I always find myself, like most people, on the side of the victim. However ‘A Silent Voice’ changes the dynamics of this- I found myself empathising with Ishida- who quite frankly does some deplorable things to Nishimiya. It was even harder for me to watch him try to make amends by (attempting to) become friends with his former victim. I’ve broken the film down into four categories that- almost like mini lessons which the film wanted us to consider as viewers. 1. Forgiveness: What constitutes as an ‘unforgivable’ act? You could be mistaken into thinking that “A Silent Voice’ is a ‘kawaii’ PG romantic story from the cover photo yet it deals with the issue of forgiveness and self image- particularly amongst the two main characters Ishida and Nishimiya. The ‘unforgivable’ act is the physical and mental torture Ishida puts Nishimiya through as he seemly attacks her because she is deaf. The film allowed me to look within myself and challenge my own ideas of forgiveness. My mother always taught me to ‘forgive but never forget’ however, now that I am older and able to formulate my own opinions on such matters, I take umbrage with this school of thought. To carry the resentment and mistrust throughout your life is fundamentally more damaging to you rather than the other person. I too was bullied for a period of time in high school- I still find it hard now to forgive the boys for what they did to me as it still profoundly affected my character now to this day. For years after it happened I struggled to disassociate those boys from other boys from that school. I wanted to stereotype them all, paint them with the same brush. If I couldn’t trust one or two then all of them were bad. This mind-set is extremely damaging- this is how stereotypes about race, gender and sexuality are all formed too. I tried and failed to let it go- to me what they did was in my eyes ‘unforgivable’. A Silent Voice tilts the perspective on forgiveness too by framing Ishida as the person who cannot forgive himself. He does not think he is worthy of forgiveness- he accepts a life of isolation from his peers, he learns sign language as a way of repudiating his bullying and tries to make friends with Nishimiya. I loved how the film captured his vulnerability- however part of me was also on high alert- I found myself questioning his motives- even Yuzuru asks him why he is trying to make amends- is he being genuine or not? The film argues that even if the person who the bullied can find it in themselves to forgive their tormentor- the actual bully needs to find it within themselves to face up to what they did. 2. Blame and victim shaming Blame is also a concept which is discussed in the film. Although Ishida is the main perpetrator of the bullying- the majority of Nishimiya’s peers all joined in. The blame is shifted and thrust upon Ishida, making him the scapegoat- a role which he also accepts as part of his self-torture. No-one is an innocent in Nishimiya’s bullying- the film also negatively portrays those who stand on the side-lines rather than speak out against the injustices . Even their primary school teacher is seen as not doing enough to deter the bullying. When it boils down to it- the school needs to blame someone and everyone is quick to label Ishida as the sole bully when in fact A Silent Voice explores how much more complex bullying is. 3. Our peers and societal pressure Ishida is placed in social purgatory after primary school- excluded from all opportunities to make friends- his classmates have decided that he is not worthy to after his relentless bullying against Nishimiya. Ishida accepts these conditions and internalising them-as he starts to cultivate self-hatred. He is both within and without- physically he is amongst his peers but he is excluded socially. The film represents this by showing purple crosses over other character’s faces- they peel away slowly as Ishida slowly begins to interact with them. The cross represents a barrier- imposed by both Ishida and his peers- they do not want to interact with him and he deems himself unworthy of interacting with them. Moreover Yamada shows girl on girl conflict via Naoka and Nishimiya’s deeply polarising relationship which goes beyond dislike for one another. Naoko is an extremely complicated character to analyse- at the start she seems somewhat friendly to Nishimiya yet helping her becomes taxing and she becomes resentful of having to explain things to her. By the end of the film it is clear that her initial dislike has snowballed into loathing and hatred. Naoko attempts to shift the blame onto the victim herself, implying that Nishimiya didn’t make enough of an effort in fitting in, hence why it is obvious she was bullied. Nishimiya’s arrival disrupts the power balance in the school and makes her peers see themselves in a different- in some cases more negative light- hence making her even more of a target. 4. Reconciliation and compassion The topic of reconciliation and compassion is further highlighted in the film- Nishimiya is portrayed to be someone who is very forgiving and open to making amends with Ishida. Nonetheless other characters like her mother and Yuzuru are not as keen for a reconciliation as she is. There’s a rather unsettling event which happens towards the end of the film and Nishimiya feels that she needs to reconcile with the rest of the friendship group. Life and death is in the balance and it is interesting to see how the characters put aside their differences and eventually accept their role in Nishimiya’s bullying. So what can we can take from anime as adults? For me, A Silent Voice isn’t just about animation- it is a study of human nature, how we interact with one another. We can all relate to the story- not because we happen to be deaf or in high school- but we can recognize the social implications of bullying, whether or not it has affected us directly or indirectly. I would highly recommend the film- mainly because its deals with something that most films don’t when portraying bullying- we start to empathise with the bully, we are willing him to make amends and despite all of the pain he made Nishimiya endure we want him to stop mentally torturing himself too. Anime as a genre is one of the most diverse forms of cinema. The sub genres are endless and I am sure that there is something out there for someone. Series like “DeathNote”-, which may seem like a dystopian thriller at first glance- actually poses the question of fate, free will as it is filled with religious iconography and folklore. Many of Studio Ghibli’s films- particularly those like “Princess Mononoke” and “My Neighbour Totoro” deal with themes of nature, folklore, mysticism and human interaction with the natural world. A Silent Voice is no different- anime can be used as a tool of education- it encouraged me to delve deeper into learning about the deaf community. It also allowed me to reflect on my own experiences of bullying and consider the perspective of the bully rather than just my own. Even if we only take away the fact that the animation and drawings as are really good- it is clear that anime is open for all and for all that are willing to learn something new whether that be exposure to a new language, cinematography style or school of thought. I’ll leave below some of my favourite animated series and films (not all of them are Japanese) which I think go beyond animation. Also, if you are interested in learning more about the deaf community I would recommend Chella Man’s YouTube channel- he is a genderqueer deaf artist. Chella advocates for the deaf community and promoting tools of education and accessibility for those with impaired hearing. Chella Man's YouTube Channel Signed with Heart is also a great YouTube channel for those interested in learning more about sign language and the deaf community. My personal anime recommendations Feature Films: • Your Name • Flavours of Youth • The Girl who leapt through time Studio Ghibli- pretty much all of them are amazing and a great way into anime but here a few of my favourites : • Spirited Away (A must see film- Chihiro is an amazing female protagonist- perfect for 11+) • Only Yesterday • Grave of the Fireflies (highly emotive and beautiful animation) • Princess Mononoke • My Neighbour Totoro • When Marnie was there • Whisper of the Heart • From up on Poppy Hill Here is a link to a YouTube video talking about the philosophy of Studio Ghibli’s cinema The Philosophy of Miyazaki- Wisecrack edition TV Series • DeathNote • Attack on Titan (season 1) Western animated films and TV Series: • Ma vie de Courgette (stop motion Swiss-French film- extremely profound. Not suitable for younger viewers) • Daria (more so adult animation from the 1990s. Daria is a recurring character in Beavis and Butthead- she is the queen of cynicism.)

Bonjour! Hola! Hello! I’m back after a rest break for Christmas and New Year. In all honesty I really wasn’t feeling very motivated to do anything, let alone write a new blogpost. The toll of living abroad,travelling and readjusting really hit me hard in the last few weeks of the year and I was pining for home and my own bed. After a week or so of sitting in my bed, stuffing my face and binge watching series (I LOVED Killing Eve and I didn’t realise what I was missing by not watching Chewing Gum) I’ve decided to make a reappearance and jump on the bandwagon of doing a highlight reel of 2018. If I could sum up 2018 in one word it would be change. I don’t want to sound cliché but it honestly was such a formative year of my life. Almost every aspect of my life changed- my appearance, where I live, my job, my friends and my relationship status. I do feel a lot more in tune with myself but this year has brought up a lot of questioning for me, planning for the future, what I want to get out of life and my year abroad. I can’t think too deeply about it all- just keep on saying yes to whatever comes my way and enjoying myself. So without further ado, here’s a summary of 2018, do grab a cup of tea or coffee, as it’s a really long read. I hope you enjoy! January: In all honesty, January wasn’t anything too special. I had an amazing December that year filled with university balls and really good nights out The most memorable thing that I can remember about that month was stressing out over the Christmas break because of an essay that was due ! I went to a formal at college and got into the flow of things. I also started a new job at my college’s coffee shop, which really helped boost my confidence and get to know more people. My friend Zoe came to stay with me in Durham for a few days and I really enjoyed having her to see me- Its so nice to show someone your town and you too discover things about the place that you sometimes forget. February: I don’t really remember too much of February. I don’t want to ignore the good things of the year, even if they are no longer applicable to me now. I normally hate Valentines day- not from a hateful singleton perspective, but rather that I think couples should treat each other like that all year round, rather than using a highly commercialised festival dictate when one should be romantic or not. I had a really nice Valentines Day, something that I can look back on now not with sadness but more so with clarity and gratitude that I had someone special to share it with. I also went on my first spa weekend, which I really enjoyed. It was so lovely to get out of the Durham bubble for a weekend. March: March couldn’t come round quicker for me. The whole of Easter term was quite stressful for me. I realised that I put a lot of pressure on myself to work hard and maintain a steady 2:1/ 1st. I suppose you could say that by the end of term I was completely burned out. The one thing that kept me going was the knowledge that my parents and I had an amazing trip to Mexico planned. We hadn’t had a family holiday in a while but growing up it has always been the three of us on holiday. The dynamics have definitely changed now that I’m not a teenager and I’m at university. Sometimes we butt heads in terms of things that we want to see and do. This year I really enjoyed the mixture of a beach holiday as well as branching out and exploring the cultural side of Mexico from visiting a Mayan village, a cenoté and seeing one of the seven modern wonders of the world- Chichen Itza. Nonetheless it was a unforgettable trip and my highlight will forever be going to a nightclub and cabaret show with my dad and partying the night away with other spring breakers. Despite his age (which I won't reveal on the blog) he can still get down with the kids and is such a fun person to go on a night out with. That being said, I wont be making a habit of it! April : April was actually quiet a difficult month for me. I was completely stressed out about summatives and exams. The culmination of the self imposed pressure of doing ‘well’ and not having organised my first placement for my year abroad really worried me. I can remember sleepless nights, anxiety attacks and the constant weight of dread forced upon me. I honestly don’t now how I managed to get through that month. I had another holiday, in quick succession from my Mexico trip. I went to the South of Spain with my ex. It was my first time in Mainland Spain and even though we aren’t together anymore I can’t think of anyone better to have that first trip with. It was a really good break from the stress and anxiety of second year and it really excited me for what was to come later on in the year where I would be spending the majority of my year abroad. May : May was also somewhat of a blur. I was crippled with anxiety about my exams and had somewhat fallen in to what can be described as a slight depression. My strived to do well in my exams was that the only thing that really kept me going. I don’t really have any highlights for that month. June: I was so relieved and excited for June to come around. Knowing that I had survived my most challenging exam season to date instantly made me feel a lot better. My social calendar was filled with balls, parties and a college fashion show. June was a really special month for me because I knew that it would be a really long time until I would see a lot of my university friends. It was also a really sad time for me as I ended my relationship with my ex. I’ve spoken about this a little more in one of my previous blogposts and how I had a delayed emotional response to this. June was a month full of change and surprises. It really for me felt like the beginning of a new chapter, despite the fact that it was the middle of the year. I took my first solo trip- be that a day trip to Edinburgh but it felt nice to do something new and spend some time alone. After all of the worry and concern of not finding a placement for my year abroad, I discovered that I’d been offered a position as an office manager for the summer in a company based in Paris! I was over the moon and honestly welcomed this distraction. I thought that all of my hard work had paid off and that I was the start of something new. July : July was the start of one of the most random and exciting summers that I’ve ever had. Granted, the beginning of the month was a bit stressful as I had to pack up and move to a capital city, one which I had never visited before nor knew anyone in. I had also finally found out that I was based in Valencia city for my year abroad which made me feel so much relief after panicking all throughout the year of any scenario.For the first month in Paris I was technically homeless, shifting between air bnbs and hotels. However, I wouldn’t change it for the world, I was living in one the most beautiful cities in the world. It taught me that you can’t plan everything in life, I grew in self-confidence and independence and it was the beginning of my ouisiyes mindset, Yes, I was working a 9-5 whilst everyone else was enjoying their summer holidays but I too was having a blast. I was in Paris for Bastille Day and the World Cup victory! I was finally finding my feet and starting to find a sense of inner peace which I had been yearning for all year. Paris has a special place in my heart and I' so grateful that I met the people that I did, built friendships and started my year abroad on such a high. August: I had finally settled in Paris and had made an amazing set of friends, a mixture of people from Durham, Oxford and Edinburgh, some of whom I know will be friends for life. I found myself falling comfortably into Parisian life, riding the metro, reading a book eating baguettes, strolling around museums and the Seine in my free time. Life was good and I was feeling happy. I had a string of dates that summer- it wasn’t exactly what you could call a summer of love as such but everything in life is a lesson and I definitely learned that I needed to time to be on my own, enjoy myself and take time to heal- something that I am carrying over into 2019. I started doing day trips on my own, exploring the city alone and finding things and people who interest me. August was also the birth month of my blog and I am so happy to found the courage to not just start writing but to publish my thoughts and experiences. The blog has become somewhat cathartic for me- I still surprises me how many people read it and seem genuinely interested in what I am doing. I’m perpetually inspired to continue to write, create and explore new direction with it. September : September was bittersweet for me. It was the end of my whirlwind love affair with Paris, I was saying goodbye to my friends, who were staying until December. It was a month which honestly brought me so much joy- I saw one of my favourite musicians, Chris (formerly Christine and the Queens) in an intimate album launch and short film premiere at one of the most beautiful venues I had ever seen in Paris. I visited Versailles with my friend Richard, and I found an affinity with French culture and art, diving into the European cultural heritage days as well as filling my free time meandering around museums and expos. I moved back home for a grand total of 6 days, whilst in transition between Paris and Valencia. My parents came with me to Spain and we enjoyed a mini holiday break in Port Saplaya (which is stunning) before all of the chaos ensued. I made quite a lot of personal progress in September; again I didn’t know anyone living in Valencia before I arrived. I managed to meet up with some really lovely people who I am very lucky to say are now my housemates, we managed to sort out our house relatively quickly. October : This was a month of ultimate highs and lows. I thought Durham exam time was a challenge- nothing could prepare me for the emotional overhaul that I was to experience on this part of my year abroad. I felt slightly homesick, out of place, lonely and the aftermath of my breakup well and truly hit me hard. Adjusting to so much change was slightly too much for me and I can honestly say I fell back into a depressive episode. I like to be candid about mental health and my own struggles- even if it helps one other person to talk about it, then that works for me. Depression is something that I have dealt with before in my life, I hadn’t felt it for such a long time, I had been so happy and distracted and now I had all of this free time and empty space on my mind. I felt the FOMO from the Durham bubble and from my friends in Paris- I craved familiarity. I’d like to say that I just got over it all but it doesn’t work like that. These feelings of uncertainty, insecurity and loneliness still come and go but after talking it through with friends I found myself coming out from this dark place and starting to feel a bit more like myself again. October wasn’t all bad- I did meet a lot of new friends and really started to put myself a bit more out there in terms of learning Spanish. November : This month was definitely such a transformative month for me. I’m a Sagittarius and November is my birth month. 2018 was the year that I turned 21. I honestly don’t think that I’ve changed that much. I never understood the big deal about turning 21- being from the U.K there aren’t any more privileges that I’ve obtained and I didn’t metamorphose overnight and become someone new. Regardless, I really loved spending time with my loved ones, I shunned the idea of a party- I didn’t want the fuss- for me one thing that I’ve learned this year is life is about experiences- I wanted to spend time with the people that I cared about. November was also a month of firsts; I celebrated my first ‘friendsgiving’ with friends from Canada, America, the UK and more. I went on my first solo trip to Madrid for 4 days and absolutely fell in love with the city (there’s a blogpost coming soon). I went on a spontaneous trip to Barcelona with my friend Paige and I started really getting into my fitness journey- something that I can’t wait to progress with in 2019. December: As the year drew to a close I had no intention of slowing down. My friend Richard came to visit me in Valencia, which was so lovely- we had a packed weekend and I really embraced the role of tour guide- I even found myself appreciating Valencia a lot more. The month was filled with beach days, Netflix and general winding down. My last big trip of the year was heading to Paris for a mini reunion with my friends. It was lovely to see how much everyone had changed and the feeling that I still love Paris just as much in the winter as I did in summer. I’ve been home for the past few weeks- honestly I didn’t enjoy Christmas as much as I would have liked to- I felt slightly rushed. Normally I’m very organised with gifts and decorating but because of my jet setting endeavours I’d fallen behind this year. But I’ve unapologetically rested this festive period, I’ve eaten, I’ve drank and I’ve chilled out and I had no regrets. January 2019 : So here we are now, a few days into 2019. I’m optimistic and hopefully for this year- I didn’t realise how much I had seen, done and experienced the past year. I really feel like I connected with myself a lot more- something which I think we should all tap into every now and then. I have no plans to stop blogging- I have more trips planned, more goals to set and more things to experience. I want to see how far I can go with OuiSíYes!, I want to really enjoy the rest of my year abroad- I have a feeling that things can only get better from here. Thanks for sticking with me in 2018 and I hope that you all had a lovely New Year- here’s to the next one!

A few weeks ago, my housemate Paige and I were just chilling out on the sofa - waiting to be paid (as per usual) and I, rather randomly, blurted out ‘So I was thinking of going to Barcelona’. The admission not only surprised Paige but also myself. I am not someone who is typically spontaneous. I love making lists, meal prepping and planning out my day. The previous weekend I had been in Castellón visiting my friend Kira and she had mentioned that our mutual friend Maz would be in Barcelona next weekend. Fuelled on a rekindled sense of wanderlust as well as utter boredom of Valencia at that point, the thought of a weekend break to sunny Barcelona began to appear more attractive. The idea of a whirlwind trip was simultaneously thrilling and scary at the same point. Paige, being the free spirit and boss babe that she is, immediately started looking at hostels and buses to get there. My God, it was really happening. For the first time in my life I kind of let go a little more and though ‘Screw it, we’re young, free and have the money to go so why the hell not’. So we reserved our hostel and booked our train. We were doing it- a last minute 36 hour trip to Barcelona. The gothic barrio Leading up to the trip I had an invasive cloud of doubt at the back of my mind. We’d both never been to Barcelona and I’d never stayed a hostel before so I was a little worried. But I wasn’t going alone and I would be with Paige and Maz so I needn't worry. I’ve mentioned earlier that I hate taking the train but honestly we didn’t have any issues this time- we arrived on time and the journey was a pretty smooth ride. I kept on telling myself ‘what’s the worst that can happen?’ My new philosophy in life is trying all of the things that you can because you never know when you won’t be able to do them again. Life is short and if you live in fear you’ll never do anything. Now, a few weeks later, the thought of taking a train doesn’t fill me with anxiety anymore- it’s a means of getting from A-B- nothing more nothing less. La Casa Mila (Gaudí) When we arrived in Barcelona we were quite time conscious- our only goals were to see as much Gaudi architecture as possible (which wasn’t too hard) and to also make sure we got to party. Without having a fixed itinerary I was slightly having a mini breakdown but I also thought that it would be better to live in the moment. If you’ve seen the movie Vicky Christina Barcelona (which I HIGHLY recommend that you watch- after having watched it about 100 times myself) I felt like were playing out Vicky and Christina’s summer, condensed into 30 hours. Vicky is more grounded, sensible and practical minded. She doesn’t take risks and is always thinking of the future. Christina, on the other hand, is a free spirit, she hates being tied down and seeks adventure in the smallest things. I found that my perspective was shifting more from Vicky’s to Christina’s. Although they are polar opposites I feel like having a balance of both is good and I allowed my spontaneous side to shine for once. Park Güell (Gaudí) La Sagrada Familia Main chapel of the Sagrada Familia A few weeks after my trip, my friend Richard came to stay with me in Valencia. We became really good friends in Paris and I was super excited to host him here in Spain. We had such a fun filled weekend- I kind of let him take the wheel as it was his weekend and I wanted him to have the best experience ever. I gained so much more clarity and perspective from the weekend- we were spontaneous, heading on an hour long bike ride all the way through the former Turia riverbed, we wandered through the winding streets of el Carmen discovering new street art and typical Spanish architecture. We laughed and for the first time I felt proud to show someone around Valencia; giving a tour of your new home is always exciting but I gained a new appreciation for it this weekend. Despite all of the ups and downs that I’ve had so far in Spain, heading to the beach, watching a film with your friend- doing the little things made me block all of that out. The past few weeks I’ve been learning more to go with the flow, not take everything too seriously and that a little spontaneity might just be the thing that you need. Living our best life on the beach (@upsidedown_travelling on Instagram)

Sometimes it feels like life is playing a huge ironic joke on me. The amount of things that I read in the news and songs that I hear on the radio which seem to correspond with me and my own current life situation never ceases to surprise me. Ariana Grande’s ‘Thank u, next’ has been my anthem for the past few weeks now as I wholeheartedly agree with positively reflecting on past relationships and exes with kindness rather than bitterness; using your experiences as tool for growth and development despite the pain they caused you. Joanna Lombardi’s filmSoltera Codiciada (How to get over a breakup) has deeply resonated with me. I’m always seeking to challenge myself and play with new formats on the blog. I’ve tried investigative journalling, tour guide exposés and now I’ve decided to do a film review/ storytime. I was talking to a friend a few weeks ago about the blog and how I don’t want it to simply be an account of my weekly adventures. Ouisíyes is kind of like an extension of me- it’s a blank canvas and I have the creative control to do whatever I like with it. It’s made by me, for me. Of course I want to keep people updated on my whereabouts and happenings on this year abroad but its also- perhaps selfishly- it's a compendium of all of my experiences- highs and lows, general musings and like today more personal instances. So if you aren’t into personal ‘storytime-esque’ posts then this one may not be for you and I will not be offended at all if you’re not interested in reading the whole article. About six months ago my ex-boyfriend and I broke up. It didn’t come as a shock to either of us as it had been building for some time. I was about to embark on a summer in Paris and then to nine months in Valencia and he was about to enter the world of secondary education working as a teacher. Our worlds were going in opposite directions and we figured it would be better to end it there and then before distance became an issue. Since we had had discussion about ending our two-year relationship prior to it happening (as well as having broken up previously, before reconciling shortly after earlier in the year) I thought that I would deal with it quite well- or rather as well as one can. Little did I know that the following months would be some of the most tumultuous and emotional exhaustive I would ever experience. Little did I know that the following months would be some of the most tumultuous and emotional exhaustive I would ever experience. He was my first love and I’d never dealt with a proper break up before. The first time it happened I went through many of the supposed five stages of a breakup: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I only managed to get through three before we reconciled. But this final time in summer was much harder to get over. Someone once told me that the amount of time it takes to truly get over someone is to multiply the length of the relationship by two. No way was it going to take almost four years for me to get over my ex! I’m the not the most patient person at the best of times but four years seemed like an eternity. Someone else told me that you never truly get over your first love (advice which wasn’t totally reassuring to me). Regardless I can firmly say that even now, six months later I’m still processing it all. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance In lots of teenage rom-coms or dramas the female protagonist is nearly always portrayed as the “dumpee”- she sits at home eating ice cream, sporadically bursting into tears at the mere sight of a memento from her relationship before meeting a new boy before embarking on a new relationship. Life isn’t always like a rom-com and as the instigator of the break up I naively thought that this wouldn’t happen to me- boy was I wrong. I initially didn’t process the breakup- I was swept up in living the fast life in Paris. I was meeting loads of new people; working 9-5 in a new job- I even considered dating (terrible terrible idea) duping myself into believing that I was ready to put myself out there. At the time I didn’t have much time to truly recognise that I was dealing with a breakup. I dealt with it by not dealing with it at all. If I could ignore it then it wasn’t really happening, right? Wrong. When you avoid something so profound, something that you need to truly go through- the extreme highs and lows to fully understand it- it will come back and bite you on the a*se in time. If I could ignore it then it wasn’t really happening, right? My summer in Paris came to an end, as did my ignorance towards the whole situation. As I moved to Valencia the realisation and the severity of what had happened suddenly dawned on me and I couldn’t process it all. I realised in my first formative weeks in Spain what I had gone though- and was still going through- was the biggest period of change in my life. I couldn’t cope with it all. Stage 4 finally hit me- depression. I cried all of the time, little things would trigger of a wave of emotion- I could be sitting on the beach, behind my desk at work or simply listening to a song that reminded me of him and I would feel a pang of loss and emotion. I’m sad to say that I turned to rom-coms to help me get through it all- I became ‘that girl’. Vicky Christina Barcelona consumed me and I felt so many parallels with Liz Gilbert and I feared that my poor housemates- who hadn’t known me that long- would think of was an uncontrollable, emotional mess as I retired to my room each night to bawl myself to sleep and it became a running joke amongst us that my favourite film was Eat Pray love. I dealt with it by not dealing with it at all These lows, in tandem with moving abroad, language barriers and an overwhelming sense of loneliness almost broke me and there were times that I wanted to go home. I remember seeing a Netflix ad for a new Spanish language film ‘How to get over a break up’ and laughing at the irony of the title. I vowed to watch it when it came out but quickly forgot about it. That was until yesterday evening. I was feeling inspired from my recent trip to Madrid (blogpost incoming) and I decided to watch a Spanish language film and surprise surprise ‘How to get over a breakup’ was at the top of my recommended list. These lows… almost broke me and there were times that I wanted to go home The film follows Maria Fe, often referred to as Mafe, a young copywriter in Lima, Peru whose long-term boyfriend of six years ends their relationship over Skype (brutal I know). It follows her story as she attempts to navigate the post-relationship world, tackling the unknown territories of Tinder and Modern dating whilst chronicling her progress as a newly single woman in her blog. Sound familiar? The arc of the story isn’t exactly ground breaking but it really resonated with me and how I was feeling. Its based on the true story of Maria Jose Osario who created the blog and the film shows how the breakup impacts different aspects of your life- your job, self-esteem and relationships with others. I really liked how Lombardi and Ascenzo delved into what it meant to lose your identity when in a relationship and the struggles of forging your own identity whilst also showing the pitfalls of rushing into a new relationship. I- like many others- believed that I couldn’t be on my own after a break-up and I was searching for something that my ex and me had in other people. Mafe clings onto the best parts of her relationship with Matias- she even sees a reincarnated subconscious figure of him guiding her through. Gisela Ponce de León is as Mafe is an archetype for all heartbroken girls- I could see myself within her- despite being the one who ended the relationship. Needless to say- it doesn’t matter who ends the relationship, its ended and your feelings of melancholy and grief are still valid. The vibrant cityscape of Lima, Peru is something not often seen in many mainstream films and I loved the attention to detail in Mafe’s apartment- its vivacious colours reflecting her creativity and quirky personality. I definitely had wanderlust in from seeing the backdrops of Lima’s street art- the film still had a western vibe and although it was rom a Peruvian woman’s perspective Mafe acts like an everyman figure for all broken-hearted girls in the wake of a breakup. The theme of friendship is also prevalent in the film and it was refreshing to see a female protagonist being guided by both male and female friends providing a double-sided perspective on how to deal with the end of a relationship. I myself followed the advice of friends and sought solace in those who knew me best- however the film’s underlying theme is to follow your gut and instinct- only Mafe knows what is truly right for her and she must come to her own conclusions. So what does the film actually teach you about getting over a break up? It's more about finding yourself, breakups take time and are often not a quick fix. It's okay to relapse and reminisce about your ex- we do often fantasise and replay the good times- kind of like an Instagram highlight reel. Soltera Codiciada is also about finding your voice as a woman, accepting you you are an surpassing the fear of being alone. Each breakup is individual and takes time- feeling low and sad are totally valid and normal- heck I still feel like that even now sometimes; but you have to live in the moment and not dwell in the past for too long as part of the process of moving on. My own advice- for anyone going through a break up and also as a reiteration for myself- is to smile a bit more- even forcing yourself to at the start may be challenging but you cannot let the sadness eclipse your mood everyday. Remember and be grateful for the things you have- breaking up may seem like the worst thing in the world now but we each have something we are all thankful for. My final bit of advice is breathe. Take your time to breathe and don't rush- its a process and it will take a while to truly feel like yourself again. The film left me feeling inspired and optimistic. Inspired to write this post and optimistic for the future. I hadn’t realised that I’m still grieving the loss of the relationship- but in my own way. Mafe was like a reflection of me and our journeys are almost identical it’s uncanny. I was particularly proud that I watched the film in Spanish (with the help of Spanish subtitles but still…) and despite the geographical and language differences it showed me that heartbreak doesn’t discriminate and it is a universal feeling. However, I know that in time it can and will be overcome. I’m discovering myself more and more each day and writing about my feelings in my personal journey and on the blog does help me to understand the situation a little better. I’m still in the midst of the breakup- it’s a process, an indeterminable one, that I know can’t be rushed. Six months later and I still cry about the breakup but not of often as I used to and I do find myself lost in memories from the past. I’m truly grateful for the time and memories I shared with my ex- he was and will always be a huge part of my life and my university experience. For me, the next step is learning to be comfortable my own- something which I am striving to do each day- and acknowledging that being alone and being lonely are two very different things. So if you’re going through a breakup, are looking for a good Spanish language film or if you simply want to see an empowering film about a boss ass babe who (eventually) triumphs through heartbreak, then Soltera Codiciada is the film for you.

I’ve had a bit of a brain wave over the past few weeks regarding my blog. I’ve been in Spain for almost two months and I guess you could say that I’ve had my fair share of tears, trials and tribulations. Even though I’m currently on an academic hiatus, I have definitely learned a few life lessons in my short time in Valencia. One of which is perseverance. This came in the form of a spontaneous weekend to Castellón. My friend Kira invited me to come and visit her one weekend. Normally I’m someone who likes to weigh up my options and make balance decisions; however I had no qualms about replying ‘Of course I’ll come’ straightaway. Castellón is still in the region of Valencia and is about 45 minutes- 1 hour away by train. In case anyone didn’t know, I hate travelling. Or rather I hate the transport side of travelling. I love exploring and seeing new places but the thought of catching a train or a flight by myself conjures up a feeling of dread in my stomach. After countless nightmarish experiences with trains as well as my mother’s unfortunate experience with a train- sliding doors, trapped, Huddersfield (I won’t say anymore). Needless to say, since then I’ve always been extremely wary when travelling particularly on my own. ‘I love exploring and seeing new places but the thought of catching a train or a flight by myself conjures up a feeling of dread in my stomach.’ I know what you’re thinking, ‘Tash you’ve moved to two new countries, managed to navigate the Paris metro system everyday, taking a short train journey should be a piece of cake’. I thought that too, but the little voice in my head kept feeding my growing anxieties. I tried to extinguish all doubt by expelling all thoughts of being trapped on the train and having positive thoughts. Despite my growing anxiety about catching the train overall I was actually quite excited to be visiting a friend. This was my first trip outside of Valencia city. The city it can feel like a bubble sometimes and you can get into the habit of binge watching Netflix (I finished Jane the Virgin season 1 in 2 days #teammichael) and lazing around in your apartment. Castellón is a lot smaller than Valencia but I thought it might help me appreciate where I am more and give me a little perspective of Valencia as a region. Kira had an extensive list of things for us to do- as someone who loves to plan this also excited me. I also figured that this trip would give me a reason to follow my mantra of ‘saying yes to everything’. ‘Tash you’ve moved to two new countries… taking a short train journey should be a piece of cake' Saturday rolled around and I miraculously managed to catch my train without a hitch and the next step was meeting up with Kira. She does something called Muixeranga, which is basically when people stand on each other’s shoulders’ creating human towers- at least that’s what I thought. She had invited me to the 5-year anniversary of the club and they were having a special performance highlighting the fundamentals of Muixeranga. My first test of perseverance was actually finding the theatre. I used Google maps- and anyone who knows me well will tell you that my sense of direction is far from perfect. What should have been a 20-minute walk from the station took almost an hour. At this point my phone was in Spanish so I was working overtime trying to understand the directions- in rapid Spanish (as well as multiple diversions) whilst hauling my rucksack with me. Nonetheless I persevered and managed to make it to the show with 15 minutes to spare. The next challenge came with the actual show itself- I was slightly apprehensive about heading in- the theatre hall was full of family members and they all had one thing in common. They all spoke or at least understood Valencian. Before arriving in Valencia I was very ignorant to the fact that the Valencian language has had a huge revival in recent years. The teachers at my school speak Valencian together sometimes and some of my students are first language Valencian speakers too. I hadn’t realised but in smaller towns, like the one in which I was based and Castellón,- Valencian is spoken widely. This show was no exception. Every part was in Valencian. There were no subtitles; there wasn’t a translator, just pure, unadulterated Valencian language. I immediately felt way in over my head- even the toddler next to me understood more than me. Valencian is very similar to Italian and French and of course Spanish. I can understand some words due to my background in French and Spanish but others are completely lost on me. The show was over an hour. I really tried to listen and concentrate. It wasn’t all dialogue, there were theatrical performances, dancing, live music, and singing and of course the human towers. The twelve fundamental values of Muixeranga were explained using blocks (emotion, co-operation, commitment, brotherhood, confidence, humility, history, tradition, values, improving, friendship and the future). Even though I only understood about 40% of the words spoken I still persevered with it and didn’t zone out completely. I was so grateful that Kira invited me to see the show- I learned something new. The human towers aren’t just about how high people can go, it’s about working together as a team, trusting one another, communication and everyone taking on a bit of the weight to make something amazing. It was also nice to see that it’s an intergenerational activity - it was refreshing to see young children as well as older people participating in something- you can see that the tradition is passed on through the ages and I felt very lucky to have been invited to see that. ‘Say Yes’ The next day we went on a hike. I’m not the most ‘outdoorsy’ girl- but I figured that it would be fun to have a nice active Sunday rather than lying in bed all day. Kira took me on a route called the Vía Verde. It used to be an old train route but now hikers, joggers and cyclists use it. I was uncertain as to what to expect- I don’t have much experience hiking but I remembered my mantra ‘Say yes’ and threw myself in full force. We took the bus from Castellón to Benicàssim and then hiked and scrambled from there to Oropesa. The day was full of spontaneity- form walking along a hollowed out riverbed, strolls along the beach and long meaningful conversations I really enjoyed the day. The hardest part was scrambling- Kira is a fantastic hiker and was definitely more at ease than I was- we both persevered and often took the more beaten track- which was much more rewarding.I let go of the fear and ignored the voice in my head which was trying to convince me I couldn't do it or that I'd fall or injure myself. It was tough and a lot of hard word climbing up but I managed to do it. Kira was so patient with me too- even when I was slowing down and a little out of breath and when we reached Oropesa it really did feel like a mini triumph. ‘It really did feel like a mini triumph’ The fourth and final part of my perseverance lesson was the language side. I hadn’t realised until I arrived in Castellón that I hadn’t been speaking much Spanish. I live with English speaking housemates, my colleagues encourage me to exclusively speak English with them- the most exposure I was getting were my multiple visits to the bank and doing my weekly food shop. Kira speaks both Castellano and Valenciano however throughout the whole weekend we spoke in Spanish when we were around others- even with her Italian housemate. On my final night we went to a chic cocktail bar and met up with her housemate Martina’s Italian Erasmus friends. I was already a little tired from the hike that day but we spoke in our common language Spanish together all night. I found it easier to be more relaxed when speaking Spanish with non-natives. The conversation flowed well and my confidence was definitely improving. I battled through the tiredness and managed to get involved with the conversation. However I do know when to say enough is enough and listen to my body- I could tell that I was becoming lethargic and needed my bed- nonetheless I was proud of how much Spanish I had spoken throughout the weekend. The trip to Castellon was definitely a well-needed break from the clustered Valencia city life that I was becoming bored with. It broke my routine and for that I am glad. It also stirred up a fierce emotion within me- my feeling of wanderlust was back. Immediately off the back of my trip to Castellon I booked a weekend trip to Barcelona for the following weekend- a blog post is coming soon don’t worry. Another advantage is that I now speak to my colleagues mainly in Spanish and really started to engage with language learning again- even if it is via watching trashy Mexican reality TV and duolingo. I’m continuing to persevere and apply this mentality in all areas of my life- I’m quite far into my year abroad now and I’m not ready to give up just yet- so when I have days when I’m homesick, sad or frustrated I remind myself of all of how far I’ve come and I tell myself to keep calm and keep going. So that’s what I'm doing- I keep calm and I keep going. Here are some links on more information about Castellon and Muixeranga: https://www.castellonturismo.com/ https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attractions-g1064289-Activities-Province_of_Castellon_Valencian_Country.html https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dt63cmjNFFk Muixeranga video Search for the Conlloga Muixaranag de Castello for more information about the muixernaga group I saw in Castellon

As of November 2018, I have been on my year abroad for four months. I have completed a just under third of my time frame I have lived in two different countries and had two very polarising experiences. I’ve had my fair share of ups and downs and at times I had even considered giving up. I started my year abroad in a Paris, France for the summer working as an office manager for a co-working company. I had the time of my life; I was working hard and playing harder. I threw myself in stereotypical Parisian culture, fulfilling my Francophile fantasies; I would peruse vintage bookshops, drink wine on the Seine with my friends until late in the evening and for a dash of culture I frequented my local museums every now and then. Paris exceeded my expectations and I thought life couldn’t be better than that. That was until it was time to pack my bags and move on to Valencia, Spain to begin my 8-month placement as an English language assistant in a high school. During this transitory period something changed within me (I allude to this further in my previous blog post). All of a sudden the reality of moving to a new country kicked in. If i say ‘I study modern languages at university and I’m currently on my year abroad’ people's first response is either to say ‘So does that mean you’re fluent in X and Y languages?’ but more recently ‘Wow that’s amazing- it’ll be the best time of your life’. But people often fail to acknowledge the difficulties that come with this. The year abroad isn’t always a picture perfect experience; many of us will feel a mixture of euphoric moments and also periods of homesickness, loneliness and self -doubt. In my four months of the year abroad I have discovered that it’s completely normal to experience extreme highs and lows and I’d like to talk about my own experiences of the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ sides of living abroad in Spain. The not so great things about Valencian/ Spanish culture: Hablas ingles? One recurring issue is the language barrier. I always knew that it would be a potential issue for me here in Valencia. I started Spanish from A.B initio level at university and after two years of studying I was advised to pick a city like Valencia due to the fact that they have a clear and understandable accent. A piece of information that people neglected to tell me was that in recent years the Valencian language has gained popularity immensely and it is spoken more and more. Now I have to decipher whether it’s Castellan or Valencian, which is being spoken. Sometimes when I do try and speak Spanish some people automatically realise that I’m an English speaker and take the opportunity to practise their English with me. This can be quite disheartening, especially as my primary goal here is to improve my language level. I’ve found that if you are a little stubborn and continue to respond in Spanish they’ll speak Spanish back to you. No pasa nada: The art of not giving a damn Another negative aspect that has clouded my experience here in Valencia is the ‘No pasa nada’ attitude, particularly when applied to bureaucracy. It’s extremely hard to translate ‘No pasa nada’ into English but the best translation that I’ve found is a combination of ‘Don’t worry about it’/ chill out’ or ‘It’s not important/ It’s not that deep’. This mentality is applied to all aspects of life. Can’t find an apartment? No pasa nada. Don’t know when you’ll be paid? No pasa nada. For me, who is someone who likes to plan and be organised this mind-set irritates me. I like things to be efficient and done as quickly as possible. Spain operates at a slower pace of life; deadlines exist but if they’re missed it’s (usually) not a big deal, it just means your plans are pushed back even further. Moving from the hustle and bustle of the French capital to a more laidback Spanish town has definitely thrown me off kilter. Moreover, there are so many catch-22s here. Spanish bureaucracy has truly worn down my patience - each time I think I’m making progress I’m told that I’m missing a document or that something isn’t filled out properly. The bank has been the constant source of my strife and I feel like it’s my second home as I’m there multiple times a week. Sometimes I’m told conflicting information and when it finally comes down to the crunch I’m hit with the ‘no pasa nada’ response. Most days I feel like I’m going round in circles but I also am learning to grin and bear it; one thing is for sure- by the end of the year I’ll have become a more patient person. Seeking support Ever since I moved to Spain I‘ve felt as though I’ve been thrown into the deep end. I am currently employed but the Spanish Government and my British ‘host’ is the British Council. I have quickly found that they can’t provide advice, information or support for individual cases. At times I wish there was more communication between the language assistants and the government. Not knowing whether you’ll be paid on time, when certain deadlines are, if you need to apply for residency are some of the questions and problems that I’ve recently encountered. Due to the fact that there isn’t a comprehensive guide for language assistants in each region, I’ve found a lot of information from both current and former other assistants rather than the British Council themselves. I knew that I would have a lot of independence this year but I also wish that I did have a little more support. F.O.M.O. (Fear of missing out) Since term started again at Durham, I’ve noticed now that FOMO is definitely real and social media definitely intensifies this. Over summer it didn’t really affect me as I was working a 9-5 job and then socialising and experiencing Parisian life in my spare time. However, seeing all of my friends hanging out at college, going to formals and even nights out at Klute makes me miss home even more. It’s inevitable that we compare our situations and my friends often comment how much they’d love to trade places with me. Granted, I’d hate to be planning a dissertation right now I do have moments when I reminisce about being back in Durham. I’m learning that it’s all about perspective- people always think that the grass is greener on the other side. The flipside: Positives of living in Valencia: On the other hand I‘ve had some really positive experiences in Valencia so far. Recently I’ve been taking the time to create a new network of friends and socialising as well as keeping in touch with friends that I’ve made along the way. In Spain it’s a social norm to grab a beer with your friends after work or even just grab a coffee and have a catch up if you’re not a big drinker. I’ve found a great network of other language assistants here in Spain from the U.K, Canada and the U.S and have even made international friends from Brazil and France too. It’s comforting and reassuring to know that I’m not alone when I feel frustrated or homesick and that we’re all in the same boat. Nobody really has a clue as to what’s happening. Through all of the stress and anxiety we always find a way to lighten up and laugh, taking the good and bad hand in hand. I’ve also found a new sense of independence whilst being here. My contract is limited to 12 hours a week of work and my school have been kind enough to allocate me classes Tuesday- Thursday 9-2pm. I have more time on my hands than ever and I’m enjoying trialling new things that I have always wanted to do. So far I’ve been to a Hatha yoga class on my own- completely in Spanish, I’ve joined a gym and have even taken up running again. I still have so much that I want to try: Pilates, dance classes and Spanish classes. I like the freedom of being able to pick and choose new things and not being fully tied down to activities. Even if I decide not to return to the classes and activities I take something away from each of them; my confidence speaking Spanish improves, sometimes I make a new friend but ultimately I have the memory and I know that when I’m down I can look back on these opportunities and be proud that I put myself out there and tried something new. Another aspect of living in Spain, which I’m fully exploiting, is the ability to tap into my ever-growing wanderlust. I have a huge ever-growing list of cities, towns and countries that I want to visit this year. Having a four-day weekend every week provides me with the option to do this. After visiting my friend Kira in Castellon last weekend (blog post coming soon) it reignited something inside me. I’m not sure when if or when I’ll have the opportunity that I have now- limitless travel options, a stable job with a flexible timetable and youth on my side. No partner, no kids, no mortgage. My only commitment is looking after myself physically and mentally. People often say that your twenties are supposed to be your selfish years and now I’m realising that it is okay to be a little selfish if it means finding out more about yourself. Last week I decided that I didn’t want to sit in my room every weekend feeling homesick and sorry for myself but to put myself out there- whether that be taking new classes or booking a 36 hour round trip to Barcelona because why not? (Another blog post is incoming). I read a lot of articles from travel bloggers and digital nomads Damon and Jo on their blog ‘Shut up and Go’ and I’ and I’m constantly inspired by their carefree, optimistic outlook on travelling. Now that I’m on my year abroad I’m finally realising and appreciating their philosophy of ‘Shutting up and going’. I’m learning to take risks- not necessarily being reckless but pushing myself out of my comfort zone and taking everything in my stride. So what next? So what do I think the rest of the year will be about? Honestly I have no idea. I can fantasise about my dream year abroad, filled with jet setting every weekend, joining new clubs and activities and making a bevvy of friends along the way. In reality it might be like that, but I also expect it to still be challenging some days. I expect to feel low, homesick and perhaps a little stressed out sometimes. This year isn’t perfect, it isn’t #instagramgoals 24/7. It’s real life and its what I make of the experience. I’m learning that some things are out of my control, I can’t manufacture the cookie cutter mould year abroad experience but I can make sure that I keep on looking at the bright side and take the good with the bad. It’s not an exaggeration when people say there is always a silver lining.

For me writing has always been an escape and a source of comfort. I have kept a journal for as long as I can remember and it always feels cathartic to ‘release’ my thoughts on the page. Last year for my 20th birthday one of my best friends,Cornelia, gifted me a beautiful journal which is bound in a metallic atlas print. She wanted me to fill it with all of my adventures from my year abroad. It’s true that this journal has become a source of solace for me, compiled within it are my high and low points scribbled in broken French, messy English and barely legible Spanish. It’s quite entertaining reading back though my old journals when I’m feeling down, or rather when I need a reminder to regain perspective of a situation. Settling into Spanish life for me hasn’t been easy and I’m battling with crippling self-doubt and anxiety most days. In times like this I would usually read through my old journals; chuckling to myself about how 13 year old Tash would have dealt with these types of crises. Recently I’ve been wishing I could read over my old journals as some form of comfort. However, most of my journals are at home in Manchester so I can only call on my memories of the past few months. These past few months have been a period of growth and change. I’m learning how to be on my own again, enjoying my own time and company, finding independence in a new job, learning how to navigate the language barrier and make new friends. Sometimes it can all get a little too much, I’m the type of person who is very proactive and hates to sit and do nothing. Don’t get me wrong I still have my lazy days, just like anyone else, but I pride myself in getting involved in things. Some days I feel like I’m failing with my blog; my main objective is to recount my personal growth over the year and whilst I am trying to say yes to new things, sometimes too much choice can overwhelm me and all I want to do is stay in bed all day and watch Netflix. I’ve often been told by my friends and family to try not to compare my year abroad experience in Valencia with my whirlwind summer in Paris. My dad always tells me that I’m too hard on myself; because I haven’t settled into Spanish life yet it doesn’t mean that I’m failing my year abroad. I try and recall these words at the forefront of my mind but I’m finding it really quite hard not to compare the two cities; when you transition from one familiar place to something completely out of your comfort zone it can be hard to initially adapt. I’m learning that it is okay to reminisce and reflect on ‘better’ times, however I cannot let it impede my experience here in Valencia. I can’t be vicariously living through my memories of Paris and my experiences there, I have to go out and make new ones here in Valencia whilst I have the chance. Whilst I’m still navigating my way through Valencia I haven’t really got any new posts to share; hence why I thought it would be a good idea to pen some of my best experiences that I had during my short stay in Paris, things that I often think of when I’m feeling down. This helps to remind me that it is possible to be happy; that even though I might not feel it now, I will feel it again. It's important to remember that I’m only four months into my year abroad yet I’ve experienced what I like to call ‘random moments of happiness’. It's difficult to put into words exactly what they are. In this blog post I’ll try my best to articulate these experiences. These fleeting moments come when I least expect them, they can be offset by the smallest of actions. It’s a feeling that I haven’t experienced all too often. The best way I can explain it is when something happens unexpectedly- I feel a wave of happiness, its kind of euphoric; I just start smiling or feeling lightheaded- but in a good way. Sometimes I’m brought to tears by it, but I’m crying because I’m so happy or so at peace in that moment. It’s difficult to truly capture the feeling in words but I want to share three instances, which I’ve had over the past four months when I’ve experienced this happiness. Island life: Feeling at peace My first experience happened very early into my time in Paris. I had spoken with a few friends who had recommended that I should visit the Ile de Saint Louis in Paris. I didn’t even know that Paris had islands. It turns out that this ‘island’ was connected to the rest of Paris by of the many famous bridges. I decided to take a stroll one Saturday afternoon. We were still in the midst of a heat wave and the blaring sun was out to stay. At this point I wasn’t a seasoned Parisian but at the same time the île felt so familiar to me and I felt at ease just ambling around on my own. Of course this was the height of the summer season; that meant out with all of the ‘true’ Parisians and in with an exodus of tourists dressed in Hawaiian shirts and shorts. I’m someone who relishes in solitude, I of course enjoying hanging out with my friends and family but I really do enjoy my own company. That day it was like I was on a date but with myself. I treated myself to an Amorino ice cream, wandered around the tourist shops browsing postcards and the winding narrow paths. I saw families and couples, holding hands and enjoying each others company. Sometimes moments like this make me feel sad or homesick but that day it was refreshing seeing young people on dates or families wandering around too and enjoying each other’s company; I didn’t feel lonely or sad. I moseyed down on the riverbank and sat on a bench. It was about 2pm in the afternoon. That day I didn’t have any plans; I didn’t have anywhere that I needed to be. I felt totally free. It was like a weight had literally been lifted off my shoulders, I had no obligations, and I was running on my own time. I sat there thinking ‘Wow I could just sit here for as long as I want and that would be okay’. The sun was beating down on my face and the water and sky were so clear and blue, it felt like a mini paradise. I was undisturbed, alone but not lonely. I felt at peace with myself- something which now when I think about it, I hadn’t felt for a long time. No essays to write, no deadlines, no admin to fill out, just me, sitting on a bench on my own. In my feelings at French flea markets One weekend in Paris, it was suggested that my friends and me visit a flea market in the northern outskirts of Paris. At this point I hadn’t wandered too far from the centre. But I was determined to follow through with my mantra of ‘saying yes’ to new things. Honestly when the day started off, I felt a little apprehensive, I had envisioned a cosy market, packed together stalls and friendly old French women trying to sell antique china. It was a little different from that. Getting to the market was fraught with problems anyway- the metro seemed against us- and when we finally arrived there was a bevvy of people flogging suitcases, knockoff designer trainers and bags. We couldn’t walk through leisurely because every ten seconds someone would try to coax us into buying their ‘genuine fake’ nike trainers. We all were a little exasperated by the constant pestering: that was until we found the antique indoor market. It felt worlds away from the cloistered market stalls. Inside it was a lot quieter; it felt like we’d stumbled into a different market completely. There were second hand bookshops, vintage clothes shops and even an old record stall that reminded me of my dad’s collection at home. Wandering through the stalls, we saw old bric-a-brac shops, an antique light shops filled with ornate chandeliers. I felt that moment of light-headedness coming back again, I felt happy to just wander freely. Seeing all of these antiques made me think of all the people who had previously owned them, how they each had a history and story. It felt nice to be away from the hustle and bustle of the centre of Paris; by removing myself from it all I felt that sense of peace again. A surprise concert: The time I went to see Christine and the Queens The last moment of random happiness was in my last week in Paris. I was in work one day and saw an advert for a premiere to Christine and the Queen’s new album and promotional film. It was free and would be held in the Salle Pleyel in Paris. All we needed to do was apply online via the apple music webpage. Christine and the Queens, or Chris as she now prefers to be called, is one of my favourite artists. I fell in love with her debut album Chaleur Humaine; her lyrics and the videography of her music videos never fail to amaze me. Her songs discuss themes such as sexuality, femininity, loneliness, female desire and love in both French and English. Her music was instrumental in helping me in coming to terms with my own sexuality and how I see myself. Let's just say that I have a lot of respect for her and her artistry. I’ve always wanted to see her live in concert but had never had the chance. I applied with the hope that maybe I would win tickets, but at the same time I prepared myself for a negative outcome. Two days before the concert I still hadn’t heard anything; I figured it was fate and wasn’t meant to be. I had seen that people had already received confirmation of their places. I checked my junk mail box just in case I’d missed anything… and yep there they were. Two free priority tickets to the short film premiere followed by an intimate performance. I was ecstatic. What a way to finish off my time in Paris, by seeing one of my favourite artists perform her new album, for free. Myself and my friend Bridie geared up to go, when we arrived we were told that all filming and photography was prohibited and we would have to leave our mobiles in a sealed pouch. The Salle Pleyel is a concert hall usually reserved for classical music performances, the architecture is breath-taking- I wish I could have taken photos inside. The main theatre was also amazing, we had really good seats- an unobstructed view not too close to the front but also not at the back. It reminded me of a vaudeville musical theatre, the red drapes, the large stage. Chris studied theatre and stage design before she embarked on a musical career and it was evident in the staging. The lighting, the props, everything was thought out. The night itself was mind blowing; she has such an exuberant presence, she’s mesmerising when she performs. Her charisma and energy exude in everything that she does. In a way I’m glad that we couldn’t film or take photos. It forced me to truly be in the moment, I couldn’t take my eyes off the stage; I didn’t feel like I was in a theatre watching a play, even though it was constructed to be that way. Each song flowed into the other and it felt like a cohesive narrative in front of my eyes. This was the first time she had performed the whole album in front of an audience; if she was nervous she didn’t show it at all. I felt that familiar feeling of euphoria again, I still couldn’t believe that I was seeing her perform in the flesh. The audience was a mixture of all ages, genders and from what I could tell, sexualities. I was nice to see a community come together, regardless of our political or religious beliefs; we were all here because something about Chris’s music makes us feel good. The only way I can describe it was like an out of body experience, everyone was immersed in that moment- we were all experiencing the same thing but reacting differently to it. I’ve been to quite a few gifs and concerts but I’d never felt like this before. I was so happy that I was able to experience this. It sounds cringey to say but I felt a part of something- I’m not quite sure what but during that hour or so I felt so at ease and so happy. So, when I’m feeling down, unsettled or uncomfortable here in Valencia, I like to think back to these moments. I know that the feeling of random happiness isn’t just a one time thing, as I’ve shown I’ve felt it multiple times over the past few months and I’m sure that I’ll experience it again too later on in the year. I need stop being too hard on myself and to let myself go through the motions, the highs and lows both make up the year abroad experience. I can’t anticipate when these waves of happiness will come nor can I force them, but I’m sure that they will return at some point. I’m still at the beginning of my year abroad, there’s plenty of time to feel happy again- even if I’m not feeling it now.