Bam! Bam! Bam! The noise of my feet hitting the pavement punctured my headphones' noise-canceling blanket. I looked down to find my feet continuing to move, in perfect cadence with the beat of my still-audible playlist. I could just make out the noise of my surroundings as they began to wake up: birds chirping, a child marveling to his mom about the colors of the sunrise, three teenage girls giggling as they walked to school.
My weekly runs around Parque del Retiro in Madrid, Spain, became a source of solace for me. Taking the time to unplug and truly observe the beauty of the park—and the people in it—reminded me just how lucky I was to be alive at that exact moment, in that exact place. In forcing my body to move as fast as it could, my mind slowed down, allowing for a greater sense of spirituality; I saw every interaction around me in greater detail.
I also found that these runs provided me with greater insight into possibly the most important aspect of Spanish culture: the family unit. In every corner of the park, one can find children, parents, grandparents, and more sitting on a picnic blanket together or roaming the winding paths with linked arms. Upon my return from the park, I would greet my host family and eat dinner with them—five people crammed into a small kitchen with a table meant for four—because spending time with loved ones was so integral to their daily lives. Occasionally the apartment would hold our six neighbors in addition, and I often heard the father laughing with my host dad about memories they had shared since grade school.
The author's view during her run in Spain
After five months of Spanish dinners filled to the brim with laughter, advice, and the occasional dissection of Taylor Swift’s new setlist, I arrived back in the United States with a new perspective on the essence of time. My host family was constantly busy; both parents worked full-time, and both kids practiced the violin and cello, respectively, nearly 10 hours a week. Somehow, though, they always made the time to sit together at the dinner table. Admittedly, the rapid-fire conversations—followed by study sessions in the living room that were frequently interrupted by new conversations—overwhelmed me at first. Taking two to three classes per day, taught completely in Spanish, left me feeling drained and with no desire to do much more than lay in my bed, reflecting on the day that lay behind me. However, as time went on, I grew to look forward to hearing about what my host siblings, Ignacio and Valvanera, had gotten up to that day. Even on the long, hard days—in fact, especially on the long, hard days—I wanted to hear about my host family’s lives.
The author, middle, with her host family in Spain
One such dinner happened in an unexpected way, two days before one of my final exams. I had shut myself in my room, knee-deep in the musings of Spanish philosophers, when I heard a knock at my door. I opened it to find Ignacio, my host brother, asking if I wanted to accompany the family to their house in the Spanish countryside. Honored that they wanted to show me such a big part of their lives, I said yes, and about an hour later we arrived in Muñochas, Spain. I walked around their property, awestruck, and learned that my host father’s great-grandfather had built this house, and every generation since then has been welcome. I met my host father’s brother, aunt, and uncle, learning from them the history of the family crest that hung proudly in the opening staircase. I was shocked at just how connected their entire family was, and they welcomed me like one of their own, with the customary double cheek kiss. Every aspect of their family home, from the intricate walls to the bouquet of freshly-picked flowers my host dad brought back for his mother-in-law, made me realize just how much the idea of family is revered in Spanish culture—a reverence I hope to emulate now that I have returned to the United States.
The author's host family's crest
A few hours later, we ate a tapas dinner in Ávila—one of the last meals I shared with my host family. I felt such immense gratitude for each of them, especially after they opened their home and extended family to me, and I began to realize why each dinner spent with them grew to mean so much.
As I look back on each of these dinners, I have realized that these kinds of constant familial interactions happen far too infrequently in the United States. My life, starting in high school but continuing when I came to Georgetown, moved at a speed too high to allow a pause even as small as a dinner table chat. Very often, I would arrive home later than the rest of my family because of a rehearsal or meeting. Simply put, I spent so much time rushing around that I did not appreciate the little moments spent at a table, hearing about my family’s days. Seeing the way my host family came together each night, almost as a kind of ritual, reminded me that I make time for what I prioritize. On the plane ride back to the United States, I vowed two things to myself; one, that I would make a greater conscientious effort to prioritize time spent with those I love, and two, that I would not wish time away—even in moments of stress or frustration. Especially when engaging with a new culture, I hope to capture every aspect of my surroundings, almost as if I am back on a run in Parque del Retiro.
Abbey Swartzwelder (C’25) is an undergraduate student in the College of Arts & Sciences majoring in government with a minor in Spanish. She is originally from Dallas, Texas, but studied at Universidad Complutense de Madrid through the Georgetown in Madrid program. She is fascinated by the intersection of strategic communications and public policy and hoped to explore this connection within Spain’s government, in tandem with its complex religious culture. She enjoyed this opportunity to expand her knowledge and appreciation of Spanish culture, as well as engage in meaningful discussion with fellow Georgetown students. She was part of the spring 2024 Doyle Global Dialogue cohort. On campus, Abbey is involved with GU Politics, Georgetown Individuals Vocal and Energetic for Service, and New Student Orientation.
