Feigning nonchalance, I stood and walked over to an orientation leader. “I put my sim card in wrong,” I blurted out. The orientation leader looked at me.
“Did you read the instructions?”
“No.” I stared at my feet. Just moments ago, I had been so confident. I thought I could take Spain by a storm—yes, I was thinking in clichés. Now, though, I needed an Apple store and someone to take me there.
After notifying someone, the orientation leader led me to the Apple store and I explained my mistake to the lady at the Genius bar. She smiled and said that she would take my phone, and in an hour, she would let me know if my phone was fixed.
“Okay. I have to go back to the group. Can you find your way back to the hotel?” asked the orientation leader.
I paused. Find my way back? My eyes grew big. “Here, I will give you my phone number,” he said, writing it down on a piece of paper. But my phone’s broken, I thought. “You will be fine,” he said. But what if I’m not, I wondered. “Here’s the name of the hotel.” He wrote that down beneath his cell phone number. All my mother’s warnings about being alone in a strange city began to march through my head.
“Okay,” I replied weakly. I didn't want to remain a burden any longer, so I waved as he walked away from me.
“Why don’t you go walk around the mall a little,” the lady at the Genius bar suggested. Mutely, I looked at her and nodded.
However, I walked directly to the bathroom. Heat was rising quickly to my face, and I hadn’t slept since Sunday night, and I hadn’t eaten lunch, and where was my mom to fix my phone for me? I put my hands on the counter in front of me. I would not cry on my first day here. I would not cry. Deep breathe. I could do this. First, though, I needed some tea.
Not sure how to say mint in Spanish, I ordered some sort of red tea. I felt so useless; I couldn’t even order the tea I wanted in Spanish. How would I get home?
I watched people go by, continuously glancing at the windows to make sure it wasn’t dark yet. What if it got dark? What if I had to walk home by myself in the dark? Louder now, my mother’s warnings about wandering alone marched through my head. Next to me, a kid bounced on a chair as her father ordered a coffee. I read the menu. Mocha was spelled with a K. I sipped my tea and checked to make sure I still had my wallet and passport. Tea doesn’t last too long. Could I go back to the Apple store yet? The girl and her father had left. I decided to ask for my phone.
I nearly hugged her in relief as the lady handed me the sim card and my phone, completely fixed. Then, she helped me put the sim card in. “Okay, I have one more question,” I said. In Spanish, too. “How do I get to the hotel?”
After a few minutes of listening to her explain and repeating it to make sure I understood, I thanked her again and set off. It turned out that the hotel was only ten minutes from the Apple store and I found my way there in no time. Grinning triumphantly, I walked through the door.
It wasn’t the most auspicious start, but I’m glad of it. I realized I could navigate an Apple store in Spanish—something I can barely do in English—and perhaps even find my way around a city. And though I was on the verge of tears the entire time, I loved it. I loved the adventure of it. Who knew something as mundane as going to the Apple store could be so exciting? In fact, perhaps that is what I love most about traveling: the adventure. Getting lost and proving to yourself you can find yourself again. Entonces, vive la aventura y hasta luego.
I have finished the journey to Granada, met my host family, tried ham, and seen the Alhambra. I have been both frustrated by and proud of my level of Spanish, and I am learning more everyday. Last night, I spend my first Saturday night in Spain, and I finally felt like I was beginning to understand Spanish nightlife. Unfortunately, I also dropped my phone of the cobble stone, and cracked the screen. I’m not too worried though because I know exactly where to find the Apple store.