The Countdown Begins...

As I went through the motions at work the other day, someone asked me when I was leaving for Spain. I looked down at my watch and nonchalantly answered, “one month.” A few seconds later I took a double take of my watch and when I looked back at my coworker, we both knew the realization I just made. “Oh my god, I leave in exactly one month from today.” After that moment, I had to ask myself the same question that I have continuously gotten over and over these last few months: how did you get here? So let’s take it back to the start. 

My name is Anniston Ward and I am a graduate from the University of Oregon, where I received a double major in Public Relations, Spanish and a minor in Sports Business. I am 22 years old and have lived in Oregon for 19 of those years. I spent the first three years of my life in Columbus, Mississippi until my family packed up our lives in two cars and drove across the country. I am forever grateful for that move, because I have absolutely fallen in love with the PNW and its abundance of luscious forests, rivers, lakes and breathtaking views. Flash forward 22 years and I’m still in love with this state as much as I was when I first saw the Deschutes River and Mount Bachelor.

So you may be wondering, if you love Oregon so much, why are you moving? It’s a funny thing, meeting your forever people as a child and throughout college to have the inevitable truth of moving away from most of them. But without these same people, I would never have the courage to chase my dreams and live large. 

In the summer of 2019, I decided to study abroad in Oviedo, Spain. If you don’t know, Oviedo is in the northwest corner of Spain, known for its proximity to part of the Camino de Santiago, Gothic Oviedo Cathedral, celtic-influenced dances and instruments, sidra and signature Austrias dishes such as Fabada Asturiana, a stew consisting of chicken stock, white beans, chorizo, morcilla blood sausage and bacon, seasoned with paprika, garlic, olive oil and saffron. Before embarking on this study abroad adventure, I sat on the flight from Portland, OR to Barcelona, Spain, envisioning the smells, views, thinking that my expectations were going to be accurate regardless of the fact that I had never been to Europe.“I mean how much different can it be than what’s in the books?”, I thought. 

I was traveling with a girl named Natalie. She was someone I had a class with freshman year and ran into a few times here and there but I wouldn’t say we were necessarily friends at this point. We decided traveling together would be smart but as we sat at the PDX airport, I was suddenly terrified. “What am I doing? What if I hate this?” I internally screamed, as I simultaneously clung onto my mom as long as possible. I realized that this experience was only two months of my life and I would be able to do this. Wheels were up, Oregon was out of sight… no turning back now. 

My assumptions were wildly off. Spain was nothing that I anticipated for it to be. And that was the best part. Each day in Spain, I felt like I was constantly seeing something new, learning something new, experiencing something… new. As cliché as it sounds, by the end of the two months abroad, I felt like a changed human. When I came back from the US, I knew Spain was waiting for me in the future. Oh, and if you’re wondering about what happened with Nat… yeah she’s my best friend in the world and we decided to live together that next year in Eugene.

So COVID hit… a whirlwind of unknowns, uncertainties, blah, blah blah, we all experienced it. Yes, the normal route would be to apply for a big girl job, move to another US city and start a new life there. As I went down a rabbit hole scaring myself of how much screen time has most likely affected my brain during this pandemic... I asked myself, “How can I get to Spain?” 

I did some research on what options I had. 1). Job search abroad. 2). Become an au pair. 3). Apply for teaching abroad programs. After completing various applications with no response, I realized that right out of college, finding said “big girl job” would be hard to find abroad. Option two seemed do-able, except for the fact that I wanted to live in my own apartment and was looking for more professional experience. Since I haven’t had much teaching experience, option three seemed daunting. I don’t know how to teach. Especially a language! Sure English is my first language, but I feel illiterate half of the time. But it kept circling back to me, like it was some calling. It was while my sister and I were visiting my brother in Washington D.C. last summer that I knew this was fate. We ran into a mutual friend who told us about her experience living in Madrid doing a teaching program called CIEE. My ears perked up. Shortly after returning home from that trip, I researched the program and was relieved that you didn’t need much teaching experience, could live in your own apartment in the city and if traveling with someone could request to work in the same location as them. This all seemed too good to be true… so what’s the catch?

I presented this idea to my family and to Natalie. Nervous that I would get shot down but gladly surprised when everyone was interested. Around Christmas break, I started my application to CIEE which was very straight forward. Some basic background questions, a resume, a recommendation from a professor and a personal statement. I told myself to apply for other programs so I had multiple options, but I just couldn’t get myself to do it. I think in the back of my mind I knew that regardless of if I got into other programs, I would still choose CIEE. 

I finished my application in the middle of December and decided to just send it as soon  as I felt confident in my materials. They advised me that I most likely wouldn’t hear back until May or June, which made me a little anxious considering that cut pretty close to graduation and the period when I’m “supposed” to know what my next steps are. March rolled around and I was gladly relieved when I received my acceptance letter. It was all feeling so real… was my plan actually going to… work? 

The countdown has officially begun. Although my fingers are still crossed that my visa arrives in time, everything seems to be falling into place. Here I am, eight months since I sent the application, five since receiving my acceptance letter and less than one until I am off. Although this timeline took some patience, it was worth the wait; especially when I was able to complete the application materials while still in undergrad without feeling overwhelmed. So that’s my story of how I finally got here and I couldn’t be more excited for what’s next.