It’s been five months since I came back to the U.S. after a semester in Spain. My journal is full of reflections on how the experience changed me for the better; I discovered more things about myself and the world while abroad than I can count. Besides the personal revelations, I also developed some healthy habits. Here are just a few everyday customs I picked up in Seville.

As I boarded the plane last year at my connection in Munich on the way to my study abroad location in Seville, Spain, I squinted suspiciously at the crowd around me. My stomach threatening to flip inside out, I committed myself to the task of examining my fellow passengers, many of whom were around my age and laden with bulging carry-ons like mine. How many of them were study abroad students? Would any of them be in my program? And most importantly, did they seem nice?

Hobbies and interests. I puzzled over the words on the CEA housing questionnaire. They were intended as a way to pair me up with another student with similar inclinations for my future homestay, not a philosophical dilemma. But as I typed my answer in the box (writing, video editing, hiking, piano, singing, cooking), I felt like a poser.

Maybe you unwind with a few squares at the end of a long week, or maybe you sip on a hot cup after a day in the snow. However you enjoy it, chocolate is an important part of Western culture. We use it to show affection to our loved ones, celebrate special occasions and make everyday life a bit more indulgent. When it’s melting on our tongues, we don’t tend to consider how our chocolate got from cacao tree to candy bar, but the truth is less sweet than we’d like to imagine.

For many survivors of human trafficking, physically escaping traffickers is only part of the battle. Many victims are charged with crimes they committed while being trafficked, like conspiracy, money laundering and drug exchange. In most cases, victims are unable to refuse committing these crimes but are nevertheless forced to face the consequences thereof.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes when I learned I’d be required to take a language or culture elective through CEA during my semester in Seville, Spain. After a solid 10 minutes of grumbling about how it wouldn’t count for my major, I begrudgingly signed up for the one that looked the most interesting: The Culture of Food & Wine in Spain. I fully expected it to be one of those classes you can just blow off: easy and fun, but ultimately a waste of time.

Say you’re on fire for the anti-trafficking movement. You’re raising awareness, buying ethically made items and donating to anti-trafficking organizations. Or maybe it’s a different cause, like environmental protection or mental illness awareness. Either way, if you’re really passionate about advocacy, you’ll have an inexhaustible supply of energy for it forever, right?

I’d planned on spending a semester abroad since middle school. What I hadn’t planned on was being in a serious relationship when the time came to pack my bags and go. But that’s where I found myself last fall. A quick look at my search history testifies to my inner turmoil at the time. “Dating while studying abroad.” “Long distance dating tips.” “Can you study abroad with a boyfriend?”

Seville is a beautiful city. From the grandeur of the Plaza de España to the breathtaking views from Las Setas, it boasts countless Instagram-worthy places. But the best memories of my semester haven’t been in any of these spots. They’ve been under harsh fluorescent lights, gathered around plates of patatas bravas on sticky metal tables at the bar downstairs with my little friend group. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

"I'm a vegan:" a statement that has elicited many an eye-roll since it started becoming more common in the late 2010s. Anthony Bourdain once wrote that vegetarians and vegans "are the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit." While it may have seemed like an annoying trend to some at first, the rising percentage of Americans identifying as vegan indicates otherwise.

Since the mid-2000s, zero-wasters have been carrying around reusable containers, keeping compost piles and fitting all the trash they make in a year inside single Mason jars. Earlier, this might have been considered hippie behavior, but public attitudes toward zero waste have shifted in recent years. It’s a growing movement to avoid creating trash, and it’s slowly making its way into mainstream culture.

The sidewalk squealed beneath the wheels of my little pink bike as I skidded to a stop, hopped off, and triumphantly plucked my prize out of the grass. “How do you do that?” my friend asked longingly, gaping at the four-leaf clover in my hands over the sparkly handlebars of her bike. I shrugged smugly. “I guess luck just finds me.”