My heart skipped a beat when Hana told me she no longer had a place to stay in San Sebastián this summer with the company she was planning on working for. Hana and I met in Barcelona last year intending to reunite this summer in Spain. We both landed work in San Sebastián, she with a surf and excursion company and myself with a hostel. Her company promised her housing and she recently heard that they no longer can provide her with it. I took a few minutes to chase down the emails of confirmation of work from my hostel in order to find peace in the security of my own job and place to live.
And the nerves are kicking in. Not only for job security, but for personal, financial, and emotional security. How is it going to feel when I arrive to know that it won't just be two weeks this time, but nearly two months? That if homesickness occurs I can't just remind myself I'll be home soon? Then there's that term "home." What is home to me now? In 18 days I will be moving out of my Waco apartment and into a brand new one in Houston, all by myself in a city I don't know, embarking on an even greater journey than a summer abroad.
I guess I'll just have to make San Sebastián my "home" for awhile.
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