Fresh from the shores of sunny Spain, my Erasmus year is over, and now I sit and watch as new Erasmus recruits book their flights, battle with RyanAir’s baggage policy and wave goodbye to the English normality they know so well.
For those who are unfamiliar with Erasmus, it is a programme that enables students in Britain to travel to different countries in Europe in order to enhance their language skills by fully immersing themselves in the culture of the country itself. By providing information and most importantly funding, thousands of students every year can afford to go and live in their chosen country and come back fluent and changed.
This time last year, I was one of those students. Niave and terrified, I was the one shouting at the lady at the ticket desk whilst she smugly charged me an extra £40 to put my bag in the hold, wailing as I said goodbye to my boyfriend, whilst ascending the escalator to the dreary heights of Birmingham Terminal 2 Departure Lounge, and throughout the flight to my destination. Needless to say I was emotionally drained from the experience.
I spent my year abroad in a place called Murcia, a region in Southern Spain near Alicante and the British holidaymakers, although they never strayed in land to Murcia - McDonalds, tea and the pub was only an hours coach ride away! I had organised work, at a bilingual Ludoteca or playschool for under 4 year olds. My job was to teach them English, that’s right, I had to teach two year olds a foreign language. And so a year of singing ‘following the leader’ and ‘wheels on the bus’ had begun.
The first few weeks were not as expected; Summer in Murcia signifies the end of work, holidays and thus the city closes down whilst its inhabitants go to the beach or the mountains. As a result, I was lucky to see one car a day pass down the high street, or to have to queue behind anyone at the Supermercado. Dreamy you might say, but living life as a mute was not how I had planned to improve on my spoken Spanish. Thus, my days involved work at 9am until 3pm stopping the 2 year olds eating the sand from the sand pit, whilst the afternoon I spent lying by the pool. It was a hard life.
But September finally came, and so did the Erasmus. Beach parties, tequila and tapas nights, my time had come!
Spain definitely was an eye opener. I went from being a student, sleeping in every day, ditching classes if I was too tired or hungover and drinking whenever I wanted. I’m glad to say the latter did not change in fact I was forced, on many occasions, to indulge in 7am whisky shots with the locals, however my work timetable was strenuous and I was certainly exploited - generally doing 12 hour days for minimal money. This can be easily avoided if you sign up for British Council, an organisation providing Erasmus students with teaching work, for great pay and minimal hours. Sadly, I am ridiculously laid back when it comes to handing in forms and paid for it dearly with 40 hour weeks.
To anyone who is off on their Erasmus year as I write this, be prepared for nothing that you could have planned. The culture of a foreign country, however close it maybe to England, is so different, so diverse to what you could have imagined. Small things, such as the compulsory wearing of a swimming hat can cause an uproar like you never imagined, lots of Spanish exclamations of idiot to put it lightly.
And then there is the carnival season, which really can’t be forseen. Where I stayed in Murcia, they blasted out tunes across tannoys all day long, causing me to have to shout ‘Old Mac Donald has a farm’ over Shakiras dulcet tones at 9am on a Wednesday morning. They held street carnivals that gave children another few fiesta days to be excused from school and many other people the chance to be drunk and ‘lairy’ (it really did dampen my homesickness) Nevertheless, stepping out of a restaurant at 11.45pm right into the middle of a street parade complete with drum playing Chileans really opened my eyes. Carnival seemed to have no rules. If you wanted to start dancing to no music, people would join in. If suddenly cooking in a kitchen became dull and you wanted to get out your camp fire and cook on the street; that was ok. It was this view of Spain that made the entire experience worthwhile. It made me realise that life was what you made it. Yes there was traffic jams every day, and people tended to just lie on the horns during this charade. However, everyday at two o clock the entire city closed down and everyone went for a break. In some ways this was refreshing, not everything was about the rat race or how much money one can make. I loved spending my evenings drinking wine and eating ‘Queso frito’ and ‘ensalladilla rusa,’ whilst my days consisted of work and swimming in the outdoor pools.
Prospective Erasmus students, I promise you, your life will change following a year abroad. Be open to everything, that way you can accidentally eat horse or have paella with your flatmates family. You will spend your first two months agreeing to everything because you won’t know how to explain why you don’t want to do it. You must eat everything put in front of you and six months down the line you’ll be a connosieur, impressing visiting parents and friends alike with your extensive knowledge of tapas and cocktails. Finally, try not to be too homesick. Find yourself a routine whether that be exercise or alcohol because the busier you are the easier it will be to forget about what you have left behind.
One final tip, definitely look into ending your year abroad with a big shebang, some went to Ibiza, others to Malia, my friends and I went to Magaluf and practically lived out the Inbetweeners Movie. Viva Espana and all that jazz.
By Brogan Campbell
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