Our group of students trickled in busloads into la Universidad Maria Cristina, in San Lorenzo de El Escorial, Madrid, over the course of half a day, bleary-eyed from a 10-15 hour block of traveling and quietly absorbing the feel of the new country. For me, it was a full-day since I arrived for my flight out of Atlanta; I had slept about two hours in the interim. It was my first time outside of the United States and everyone was (unsurprisingly) speaking Spanish. Under a thin coat of exhaustion, I was ecstatic. I was finally here, studying with UA in Spain for a month, an opportunity to go somewhere where people dressed differently, spoke differently, thought differently.