It was a Thursday afternoon, I was all packed up and on the bus heading into Madrid with my friend for our weekend trip to Barcelona. This was the trip I had been dreaming about for years, and I was finally about to go. We were about an hour and a half into our trip, listening to music and talking about our plans for the weekend when my moms in the US suddenly texted saying I needed to call, and that it was urgent. My stomach dropped, thinking something had happened to one of my family members, but I was in for a different kind of shock: the President just announced that all study abroad students were to return home immediately. I hung up and sent a message to my professor to see if she knew what was happening while my parents tried to call the College and get some answers. We didn’t hear anything for over an hour, and then the bombshell dropped: we had less than 24 hours to pack up and leave.

I broke down, cried, and hugged my friend. We were stuck on a bus that was supposed to be taking me on my dream trip, and we weren’t even going to make it there. We got to the Madrid bus station around 4pm and then had to take the next bus back to Trujillo, which didn’t leave until 6pm. We rode in silence together for another three and a half hour ride and got back to Trujillo around 10:30pm, and then the next challenge came: seeing my host family. Before studying abroad, I didn’t really understand how people had such strong connections with their host family, but my trip and my amazing family made me realize the strength and power of that connection. When I opened the door to my house, my host mom and brother came running and gave me the biggest hug. I was yet again in absolute pieces as we all cried together. That night, I tried to pack, called my parents and sister in the US, and fell asleep at some very early hour of the morning. When I woke up, my host mom and I had coffee together and then I went to my favorite bakery with a friend. We grabbed pastries and coffee, sat in the plaza mayor and then went for a walk, soaking in the city and saying our goodbyes. I made it back home in time for lunch, where my host mom made me my favorite food and spent the rest of the afternoon at home, playing with my dog, packing, and feeling time speed by. I loaded all of my bags into my host mom’s car, my host brother and I said our last goodbye, and then I drove off with my mom up to the bus.

All of the families and students were in the plaza and we took one last tear-filled picture together before we got on the bus to Madrid. That night, we went for a walk through the city and talked about how crazy everything was, how we wished we could stay. Bright and early the next morning, we all went to the airport, said goodbye to our professor, and then to each other. We knew we’d see each other on campus in the fall, but it wouldn’t be the same. I landed in Boston the next day, after a crazy stop in NYC, and never needed a hug from my mom more than in that moment. COVID-19 fundamentally altered my study abroad experience, and that of so many others. However, I know that the connections I made while abroad remain: our group chat still sends messages in Spanish and English, classes are online and almost done, and my host family still sends messages to check in and update me. This was not the ending of my study abroad I expected, and not the one I wanted, but I know that I’ll be back as soon as it’s safe.