I feel myself changing as I travel through this diverse country. I can be whoever I want to be here, and each city’s flavor brings out a part of me that I had no idea existed. In Segovia I was a spectator to the strength of Roman architecture at the height of the Roman Empire. In Toledo I was a multi-religious seeker of truth striving to create a harmonious community between incredibly diverse and widely traveled religious refugees. In the Prado I was an art connoisseur. In Granada I was a gypsy traveling through a sea of people and smoke with nothing but a guitar strapped to my back and a heart bursting with cante jondo. In Cordoba, I was one of the oppressed Muslims forced to give up a beloved mosque to the reconquest of my city. In Sevilla I was a flamenco performer expressing my heart wrenching tragedies of life through rapid stomping of feet and the strum of a guitar. In Barcelona, I was an avant garde, young adventurer, progressing in my culinary arts while protesting what I believe in. Spain is such a diverse and unique place to travel through, and different cities whisper to different parts of who I am all telling me the same thing: stay.