Man never travels out of want: only ever out of need. A need to be seen, to be heard, and to be bread anew – in a new space, man can break off his fetters, open himself to a new him, and experience the world as a baby would. Travel forces man to appreciate being nobody; any man with some money and the means can travel the world, and in those travels that man will not once be called by name. They will say, “You’re American, right?” or “You’re not from around here, right?” or “You sound just like the others jaja”. Not once was I ever called Ehren while I lived in Spain. Over there I was nobody, and in being nobody, I learned more about myself than I every wish I could’ve.
Think of Spain as a museum – all works are connected by time but none the same. The entrance was full of glamour and decor – most likely the works of the Greeks; it pulled you in, made you feel so small and insignificant in the face of mammoth architecture. The further in you go the more insignificant you feel – culinary works only to be described as haute cuisine, paired with the ambience of a Slam poetry club. Full of smokers, intellectuals, and artists all the like, all independent, all strong and so sure – so sure in themselves, so sure in their ability, and so sure in Spain. I was overwhelmed: why wasn’t I sure? Why didn’t I fit into Spain’s culture? Was I too American? Too black? Was my Spanish too poor? Was how I behaved too thuggish? What was I in the face of a millennia of beauty: rows and rows of works I didn’t have the ability to make? Had I really become nothing while experiencing the culture of someone else? What was it to be nothing in the face of someone: someone so rich with culture, worldly and profound, intelligent yet street smart – was I really nothing to Spain?
What did I want with Spain – or rather, what did I need? Did I need to be seen or heard? Impossible. I was too insignificant to be seen or heard. Was I bread anew? I wish to believe so. I wish to believe that my Spanish got better: I have been speaking with greater fluidity. I wish to believe I adapted to the culture: I regularly take siestas while home. I wish to believe my behavior changed: new conversations always sprout new found friendships(two kisses on the cheek to cement them). I wish to believe I found something beautiful within myself: that very thing was my nothingness. My ability to dissolve into the crowd, to be one with Spain, to no longer be Ehren but more enthusiastically me. To Spain I was nothing, and in her criticism, I found more of me.