The speedboat obtained its name rather obviously. I clutched on the seat rails and anchored myself to the ground as the boat skimmed rapidly on the surface of the sea. Distant from the shore, the captain lowered an anchor into the water and I clutched the rails tighter.
Today, I jumped into 12-feet-deep water for the first time in eight years. Lowering myself into the sea sent sweat prickling out of my pores. Without a handrail to crush, I clung to the arm of another non-swimmer in the group. But once I parted from the boat, I realized my life jacket securely held me at the surface of the water. I dipped my head in the sea crumpling my face up expecting a bombard of suffocation, but the snorkel mask retained a bubble of air around my eyes and I breathed as easily as I did above water.
50 minutes sped like the speedboat. Under the surface glittered with a serene community. Goldish green grass waved along with the gentle current, pearlish curls of reef nestled between spaces in the seaweed. But the most beautiful were the fish. At first, I only saw dark gray, solidary fish (which was still exciting to swim alongside marine life). As the waves carried me farther from the boat into the deeper reefs, fish were more plentiful and more colorful. Some fish were silver with a smooth black outline. One had a glowing indigo fin. My non-swimmer partner and I floated into a school of hundreds of silver and yellow striped fish. The silver and yellow bustled as far as I could see in the crystal clear water. Clumps of fish swam past us in breathtaking synchronization. Some nestled into the weeds to nibble at the reefs.
I breathed and pedaled just like I would on solid ground. When the group collectively floated back to the boat, dipping my head in the water and scooping water in my flippers felt effortless and freeing.
I felt the same exhilaration on the boat ride back to Alicante as on the ride to Tabarca, but the sharp breaths of fear had dissipated entirely. I looked into the glassy water and didn't see a ravenous pool trying to consume me, but the calm waves carrying me ashore.
I came to Spain aimed to learn to speak Spanish and appreciate another culture, but I think the true goal of study abroad is broader: to be unafraid.
Today, I jumped into 12-feet-deep water for the first time in eight years. Lowering myself into the sea sent sweat prickling out of my pores. Without a handrail to crush, I clung to the arm of another non-swimmer in the group. But once I parted from the boat, I realized my life jacket securely held me at the surface of the water. I dipped my head in the sea crumpling my face up expecting a bombard of suffocation, but the snorkel mask retained a bubble of air around my eyes and I breathed as easily as I did above water.
50 minutes sped like the speedboat. Under the surface glittered with a serene community. Goldish green grass waved along with the gentle current, pearlish curls of reef nestled between spaces in the seaweed. But the most beautiful were the fish. At first, I only saw dark gray, solidary fish (which was still exciting to swim alongside marine life). As the waves carried me farther from the boat into the deeper reefs, fish were more plentiful and more colorful. Some fish were silver with a smooth black outline. One had a glowing indigo fin. My non-swimmer partner and I floated into a school of hundreds of silver and yellow striped fish. The silver and yellow bustled as far as I could see in the crystal clear water. Clumps of fish swam past us in breathtaking synchronization. Some nestled into the weeds to nibble at the reefs.
I breathed and pedaled just like I would on solid ground. When the group collectively floated back to the boat, dipping my head in the water and scooping water in my flippers felt effortless and freeing.
I felt the same exhilaration on the boat ride back to Alicante as on the ride to Tabarca, but the sharp breaths of fear had dissipated entirely. I looked into the glassy water and didn't see a ravenous pool trying to consume me, but the calm waves carrying me ashore.
I came to Spain aimed to learn to speak Spanish and appreciate another culture, but I think the true goal of study abroad is broader: to be unafraid.