Day 1 and still in one piece. Across the pond Atlantic and through the countryside Hispanic. Several days’ time crammed into a few hours on the cold airport floor and a haze of jet lag sans sleep for two days, we pulled up to a grand edifice of Spain, monument to its history. Our group crawled down to the cobble where we met our respective parents for the next three weeks. Tristan, Brennan and I followed little Nayely, our host mother, to her little car where we packed our huge American luggage and bodies. We drove off to our little house where we packed into the little elevator, and it was there Nayely enlightened us: everything in Spain is small.