A month into studying in Spain, and why you shouldn't be afraid of change

When you hear the word crisis, what do you think of? A big problem? Global warming? Losing your phone? Whatever it is, it’s always something bad, right?

Crisis is actually derived from the Greek word krisis, which means “turning point in a disease.” Keywords: turning point. The English definition of crisis is: “a crucial stage or turning point in the course of something.” Again, turning point. A crisis isn’t bad, it just signifies change. Although to most people, that’s the worst possible thing it could mean.

But it doesn’t have to be. Change is good. Change helps you grow and become a better person than you were before the change occurred. For example, leaving the U.S. to spend the next 5 months in Spain is a pretty big change, a crisis. And it’s been pretty damn awesome.

Before I actually arrived in Spain, it didn’t seem real that I was leaving everything I’ve ever known to go to a place that speaks a totally different language and lives a completely different life. I was definitely nervous and apprehensive; I had all the typical feelings you would have when you leave home for almost half a year.

After living in Spain for a month, the worst thing, for me, is simply that they don’t eat much for breakfast, and I’m a big breakfast guy. Eggs, yogurt, a lot of coffee; nothing beats a solid breakfast. But that’s the biggest problem! Breakfast! Everything else has been incredible, especially the people. They're amazing, although I do get some funny looks in the street because I don’t look super Spanish, and not everyone here loves Americans.

But you know what Spaniards do love? They really appreciate it when you try your best to adapt to and appreciate their culture. I’ve made quite a few friends just by being social and polite and trying my best to communicate in Spanish, and it’s made my Spanish so much better so fast. For example, the first night I was here, I struck up a conversation with a man, Juan, and a woman outside a shop near where I live. I ended up seeing Juan a bunch over the next few days, and we even sang a duet of “I”m Yours” by Jason Mraz together (he plays the guitar).

I’ve made friends with the two guys, Alfonso and Luis, that work at the gym I go to. There’s also a kebab shop down the street from the gym, and my buddy Israel enjoyed talking to me and my friend Hunter so much the first time we went there that he gave me his WhatsApp and was upset when I came back the next week and hadn’t texted him (we’re good now).

I’ve gotten to know the guy that works at a local coffee shop, Andrea, who’s told me about the benefits of sleep (pretty ironic given that he runs a coffee shop) and was extremely adamant that I watch The Godfather, which truly is an excellent movie (he’s Italian, and very proud of it). It isn’t too culturally immersive of me to go to Starbucks almost every day, but I’ve also made friends with all of the baristas there, and they’ve almost figured out how to spell and say my name correctly. Some of the examples of their interpretations of “Mitch” include: “Mech,” “Metch,” “Mich,” and, get ready for it, “Bech.”

And then there’s the people in my program. I came here knowing a couple people in my program from the University of Minnesota, but I can say with certainty that I’ve had meaningful conversations with nearly all of the 100ish students in my program, hailing from Minnesota, to Notre Dame, to Puerto Rico. I met some of my friends here less than a month ago, and I already feel like I’ve known them for years.

Not only have I made friends with my fellow students, but also the staff that work at the place where I’m staying. Because I live in the same building I go to class in, I’m here quite a bit. As a result, I know all the receptionists at the front desk and all the administrative staff. And it was a conversation with one of the administrators, José Luis, that inspired me to write this blog. I was going to write it anyway, but what he said to me a few hours ago gave me the direction in which I wanted to take this post.

I had to interview 2 people in my host country for an assignment for my online class, so I chose José Luis because he’s a pretty cool guy, and I thought he would give me some interesting perspectives to make my homework a little less boring. When I asked José Luis, who, on the surface, looks like a typical Spanish man, if he believes that he’s part of the dominant culture in Spain, he surprised me by responding that, no, he doesn’t think he is. And he’s not. Why?

José Luis proceeded to explain to me that he believes Spaniards are very conformist and lack the drive to incite change in something they want to be different. And that’s when he said: “Mitch, do you know the history behind the word crisis?” I told him that, no, I didn’t know the history behind the word, and he explained that it comes from a Greek word (krisis) that basically means change. At the end of our conversation, we agreed that the most important thing in life is to go outside your comfort zone, make mistakes, and learn from them. Sure, making mistakes sucks at the time, but when you go outside your comfort zone, you learn from your experience, whether you succeed or fail. And it’s that crisis, that change, that will help you learn and grow. And that’s what life is all about.

So go outside your comfort zone. It doesn’t have to be spending 5 months halfway across the world. It could be anything: take a dance class; check out a new organization; ask that girl or guy you like to grab coffee; start a blog; get a job; try a new sport. Afterwards, think about what happened. Reflect; don’t dwell. Think about what went right, what didn’t, and how you can grow from the experience. Because if we can look at every crisis as an opportunity for growth, to be a better person than we were before, then maybe we won’t be so afraid of change.