My Thanksgiving week in Spain

At any regular season in my life, the week of Thanksgiving would start with two boring but busy days of school then transition into a time of relaxation at home with my family. My Thanksgiving week in Spain did not follow that structure. In fact, the whole week was kind of a whirlwind but a big, sensational, beautiful whirlwind at that.

            Sunday- Iglesia de Coria invited us students to a “farewell” service, the compliment to the “welcome” event we had in September. I’m going to be honest: I am a person that has struggled with major anxiety in relation to being in front of an audience. I kid you not, in this particular church event, I sang in front of everyone, played guitar in front of everyone, spoke in front of everyone, and danced in front of everyone. The feeling of imminent anxiety never touched me.  Because of my severe anxiety in the past, it was a victory and such a positive experience. That church is also such an encouragement to me because of its community and its zestful heart for the Lord. I’m so glad a church like that exists in Spain.

            Monday- This was the day of our Flamenco show! After school, the majority of the Flamenco girls grabbed some food and had a little picnic on the roof of our school. After we ate, we proceeded with the daily Spanish schedule and took a siesta in the hot sun. On the roof. It was so fantastic. I wish taking a nap on the roof in Spain would be a regular occurrence in my life. After that, we rehearsed, did makeup, and put our dresses on. Our instructor, Silvia, said a prayer for us before show time, and we went out and performed the Sevillanas dance for a small audience. The rhythmic claps, the flashes of colorful dresses, the shouts of ‘olay!’ and the laughs will always be engrained in my memory. What a beautiful dance and what a beautiful culture.

            Tuesday- I volunteered at the Hospital de Caridad for the last time, a nursing home for elderly men. When I was leaving, I made sure to say “adios; que tenga un buen día” to every elderly man I saw and took note of their smiles and waves to store in my memory forever. Tears were definitely dwelling in my eyes when I exited the building.

            Wednesday- After school, I went to rehearse with the worship team for encuentro. Before we started the night of worship and small group, we played Pictionary as a group. As it was the night before Thanksgiving, it felt like such a comfort to be competitively yelling, screaming, and laughing in a game with a group of wonderful people. I think these crazy people deserve the title of my Spain fam. After the game, we had our small group time and worshipped with hymns. Lifting voices together to praise the Lord is such a joy, and I couldn’t have asked for more that night.

            Thursday- It was my first Thanksgiving away from my family. I slept in and walked to school where we enjoyed a wonderful American breakfast, complete with eggs, bacon, pancakes, poptarts, bagels, and freshly squeezed orange juice. It was heaven. After breakfast, we all snuggled up in a classroom and watched a movie. I went back to have lunch with my wonderful Spanish parents and then facetimed my American parents for a bit. I got some chill time alone and then I met up with my friends to go to our Thanksgiving dinner at 9 pm. Our program in Spain was nice enough to provide us Americans with a Thanksgiving dinner, and it was an elegant, incredible evening. Our table was like a mile long, and we passed around plates of the classic food in a messy and unorganized manner, just like at home. The food was so stellar. The company was even better. We ate, we laughed, we played games, we exchanged gifts, we took pictures, and we just simply enjoyed. I wasn’t with my family, but spending hours at the dinner table with my Spain family is a Thanksgiving memory that I will never forget.

            Friday- At noon, I took a bus with my friend Rachael to Itálica, a location near Sevilla with ruins of an ancient Roman city. It was a gorgeous spot, and my heart was filled again with the tranquility of nature. We roamed around, had a picnic lunch, talked, and then met up with another group of our friends. It was a pristine refreshing day. After I returned to Sevilla, I jumped on another bus heading to Iglesia de Coria. The church was having a worship night, and a couple of my friends and I wanted to go. The worship was spectacular, and the time of lifting my hands, praising, and surrendering to Jesus was something I needed. That night was a great treasure.

            Saturday- today! So far, I’ve rested and reflected, a necessity after a beautiful week like that.

            Besitos! Only two more full weeks left in Sevilla!

Despedidas prematuras

Despedidas prematuras: premature goodbyes

I still have 3 three full weeks left in Sevilla, so this is a bit early for this list, but making it helped get my mind into a state of appreciation and transition. It allowed me to walk down the street and really drink in this city that has been my life for the last 3 months. Thinking about the things that I will not miss also gave me positivity to return home in a couple weeks.

Sevilla is a beautiful, magical piece of Europe, and I will miss so many details about it.

I will miss the pigeons and horses that populate the streets

I will NOT miss the rats that appear during deep conversations by the river at night

            I will miss the accordion players and other street performers

            I will NOT miss that stupid floating devil on the street

            I will miss not wearing a coat

            I will NOT miss sweating through my clothes in the middle of November

            I will miss the sound and smell of chestnuts roasting every few feet on the street

            I will NOT miss rolling my ankles on the cobblestone streets

            I will miss not having to tip at restaurants

            I will NOT miss trying to flag the waiter down for 20 minutes in order to get our check

            I will miss the brightly colored buildings and the palm trees scraping the horizon

            I will NOT miss the mob of tourists every weekend

            I will miss croquetas, chanquetes, and churros

            I will NOT miss the Spanish tortilla. I just can’t anymore

            I will miss the smiles of the elderly that I work with

            I will NOT miss 93-year old Manuel asking me to marry him every Monday

            I will miss biking around Sevilla

            I will NOT miss ripping my Sevici out of its slot

            I will miss waking up in the morning, lying in bed and reading texts, instagram posts, and facebook updates that happened overnight

            I will NOT miss talking to my family and friends with the 7-hour difference struggle

            I will miss all the students and teachers at school

            I will NOT miss having the same 4 classes. every. single. day.

            I will miss the life of the night with the bright restaurants, shops, cathedrals, castles, and fountains

            I will NOT miss inhaling cigarette smoke every 2 minutes on the street

            I will miss dinners with my host parents

            And that random California chick that was put in the same room as me

            And worshipping with my encuentro group

            And the wind of the river in the morning crossing the bridge

            And the Spanish language being spoken in every corner

            And azulejos, ancient architecture, and worn down street signs

            And dancing flamenco

            And the unripe oranges lying on the street

            And the laughs that are shared, even when culture and language are not.

Granada

Traveling: for better or for worse part 2

Just to give a brief recap, part 1 was about going to Toledo, Madrid, Barcelona, and Valencia where we visited stellar churches, missed our train, got stranded in Madrid, and I dry heaved on the streets of Barcelona.

Part 2 begins on a train headed to Naples, Italy.

My two friends and I decided to travel through Italy for our week break, and our first destination was Naples. The train was advertised as a 2 and a half hour ride. Right away, the train stopped for what seemed like a half an hour at a  routine station. Then it stopped again. And again. Then again in the middle of nowhere in the pitch darkness. Then again in the middle of a tunnel. 5 hours later, we were sitting on the same train, dehydrated, hungry, confused, and alternating between laugher and frustration at the situation. We eventually had to jump on a bus that the train company had chartered for us to take the rest of the way to Naples.

I think we arrived in Naples around 9, 4 hours later than planned.

Naples: the city where the prodigy of pizza was born. Also one of the top ten most dangerous cities in Europe with a strong influence of the mafia. We definitely weren’t aware of that second one until our taxi driver warned us with his minimal English vocabulary- “very bad.”

            Very bad indeed.

            The next day we made our way to Pompeii, which was absolutely breathtaking. A tragic history definitely exists there, but it was the beauty of it all that captured my attention. There were a lot of classic autumn trees there, something my Minnesota soul needed since I’m usually surrounded by palm trees in Sevilla. The combination of the trees and the ruins of an ancient city in the foreground of a mountainous horizon caused my heart to burst with beauty and joy.

            It was dark when we got back to Naples after Pompeii, so we decided to take a taxi again to avoid any peril. Our taxi dropped us off at a location and told us our airb&b was right around the corner.

            Um. It wasn’t.

            He had actually dropped us off at a random location that was farther away from our place than we were initially. If it was a mistake or on purpose, we will never know.

            My friend Hannah had 27% battery on her phone, and since my phone and Katrina’s couldn’t do directions, her phone was our only hope. We hustled through the streets, followed the directions on Hannah’s phone, and tried to mask our fear of being stranded in the ghetto alone at night. We successfully made it to the address after about 20 minutes, and Hannah’s phone hadn’t even drained a percentage. Praise the Lord.

            However, as we stood relieved at our sketchy gate, we encountered our next problem: our key was not working, and we couldn’t get in. That’s when my heart started to pound for real because what were our options at that point?

Our options were to ring every bell in the building until someone let us in. It worked. Praise the Lord.

            Besides a 60-euro fee in one of our train rides, the rest of the week went smoothly. Our crazy, adrenaline-inducing adventures ended when we let Naples and headed to Florence the next day. Contrast to Naples, Florence was warm, clean, safe, and overall so lovely. In Florence, we were able to see a lot of famous art and admire the beautiful city. We ate some authentic Italian food right by the duomo, and it was wonderful. We also went to an American restaurant one night because we couldn’t find anything else, and I finally satisfied my almost 2-month craving of nachos, which was also so wonderful. It’s definitely okay to be an American once and a while when you’re abroad; that’s one thing I’ve learned and accepted here.

            Rome was the last stop of our week’s journey. We saw the Colosseum, the Vatican, and the Trevi Fountain. The Trevi Fountain had apparently been under construction for years, and it had just reopened the week we were there. The construction must have paid off because it was a marvel, and we sat and stared at it for a long time. Of course, we also had to throw coins over our shoulder and make wishes.

            Through the week, I felt I was able to taste a piece of the culture that is Italy. We were able to immerse ourselves in each city for at least 2 days, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. There is a beauty in historic tourist attractions and notable art, but I discovered what really makes my heart spring to life is simply walking through the streets and seeing life being lived in a way that is uniquely theirs. I got such a thrill from observing and experiencing in these Italian cities; even in Naples, a smile could be found on my face as we were wondering through the city (during the day). I got the same gusto from seeing nature and awe-inspiring views. Both the ancient city of Pompeii and the view of Florence from the autumn tree-lined streets above took my breath away, and I was left wanting more. I think I will continue to seek after cultural and geographical beauty for the rest of my life.

            The solitude of spending time in these cities also provoked me to think and reflect. It was really a perfect opportunity to step back from my normal life and stare back at it from a different perspective. I thought about how I’m going to be returning to Minnesota soon, and I envisioned myself fumbling with American money after being so accustomed to euros and habitually saying Spanish words instead of English. I pondered how I might even feel like a stranger in my own country for a bit when I returned. Then I thought about how indescribably incredible this experience has been and how many crazy adventures I’ve had. It has been a blur of blessings, exploration, growth, bliss, and insight. Sincerely, what a semester it’s been.

As I was thinking of these things and preparing to depart Italy for Spain, a realization hit me.

            Like. Wait.  
            It’s not over yet.