Que Casualidad?

I feel that I'm really on a streak here. I've felt creative enough to do my two of my friends' hair today AND write. Que casualidad?

So, learning Spanish is definitely harder than I anticipated. Before I came to Spain, many asked me how much Spanish I spoke, and without fail I always replied with, "I can get by." LIES!! Anyone who believes that they can "get by" with two years of high school Spanish and mission trip experiences will not survive casual, everyday conversation without looking like a complete buffoon in a foreign country.

Since I've lived here, I have had my fair share of embarrassments. I feel bad for my professors, because I do believe that at the beginning of the year they thought me to be either mute or inflicted with chronic "deer-in-the-headlights" syndrome. Every class, every conversation, every meeting, church service, vespers, etc. is entirely in Spanish. Professors, church members and/or random Spanish strangers attempted to converse with me, but all I could do was look at them as if they were crazy and agree with everything they said. Someone could have told me that my ears were made of feathers and I would have politely nodded my head and said, "Si, claro."

Learning a foreign language is not easy. I'm pretty sure that the first month or two here, I didn't understand any of my classes. How can you do an assignment when the directions are entirely in Spanish!? Google Translate?! Again, lies. While Google Translate is a helpful tool, it is also grammatically incorrect. If one were to try to discover what the word "vino" means, Google Translate with tell you that it means "wine." However, this is not completely correct. The word "vino" can also mean "he/she came." If you were to have a sentence that read, "Shelby vino a la fiesta anoche." It translates to "Shelby came to the party last night." However, Google Translate would say otherwise... "Shelby wine a the party last night." False, Google Translate.

Though a terrifying experience at first, we students have grown accustomed to hearing Spanish everyday. We are now able to converse with our professors, new Spanish friends and even each other, on occasion. The language hasn't quite clicked for me yet, I still sometimes need people to speak a little slower, or ask someone to repeat what they just said. However, I would say that I understand about 89% of what is going on. Though I have lived here for about five months now and though I can understand that 89%, I would only consider myself able to "get by." Even though I am able to carry on conversations, listen, read and write Spanish, I still feel as if I am a stranger in a foreign land.

I think realize, now, what Jesus meant by being in the world but not of it. Now, please don't believe for a second that I am trying to equate the lovely country of Spain to a horrible, sinful world, because you would be jumping to lofty conclusions, my friend. While I do love Spain, the lasting friendships I've cultivated here, the people and the new ability to speak in another language, this is still not my home. My home is where my father and mother are. My home is where I can lay in my own bed, eat my own food, breathe the fresh, Spokane air and go to my church, where I know the brothers and sisters in Christ will welcome me with a tasty casserole and a hug. Though living in Spain will be the most extraordinary event to happen in my life, in the end, I will be home. And I will love every second of it.

After these 8 1/2 months are done, I will be able to, hopefully, understand 100% and come home with an accomplished feeling. But until then, I am going to read, speak and listen to as much as possible.

Oh the places I went: Fall Edition

So, here's the thing: I'm a terrible blogger. For some reason, one that has nothing to do with laziness, blogging for me is like trying to push a toddler to take a bath. You try to force the flow of creativity and emotions onto the keyboard, but legs and arms fly everywhere and suddenly you're soaking wet, without any idea of how you go that way. My writing comes and goes in spurts. This spurt just happened to last for about 3 months... In conclusion, I am going through a spurt and might as well catch you up on my life as an extranjero de Espana.

During fall break I went to Paris with four other friends. It was truly a "student traveling in Europe experience." We slept on tile floors, scraped our wallets in order to eat, encountered dark alley ways filled with Parisan youths, breathed in the heavy, ripe odor of urine and wine in the Pairs metro, got lost on the metro, and somehow ended up with vomit-soaked soles.

But we had a blast.

We stayed with some old friends of mine, who just happen to live on the outskirts of Paris, and while five, Zim-like youths probably invaded too much of their space, we wouldn't have wanted to stay anywhere else. Within 5 nights we were treated to over 20 different kinds of cupcakes, authentic salted caramel covered crepes, and tasty raclette. Thomas and Christina showed us how to venture through the jungle of subways, and gave us tips on how to survive around Parisians. For this we all give them a round of applause and a huge thanks. We would NOT have made it through Paris without them.

We saw everything: street performers that should have million dollar contracts, baguettes that will make your taste buds quiver, and views of Paris from the Eiffel Tower, the Arc d'Triomphe, the Tower of Notre Dame, all completely breath taking and humbling to your core. We attended mass at Notre Dame, receiving our fair share of Gregorian chants. I breathed in the sweet, tranquil scent of the Versailles gardens, strolled through Marie Antoinette's onsite village and slept on the canal. I realized my love for Paris again. I had been there once before and knew what it was, but I feel that when one achieves understanding of a subject's heart beat, only then can one fully appreciate it's being and place in this world.

After five days exploring Paris, we packed up and headed to Brussels, Belgium. What a lovely city full of sweet, crispy waffles and rainy days. For those of you who love the dreariness of Seattle and wish to move to Europe, please, buy real estate in Brussels. You will love it. It is an enchanting, smaller city; quiet and calm. There, our band of five met up with a band of four, and for one night, all nine of us shared a one bedroom apartment. How did we all sleep? Three on the bed, three on the fold out couch, and three on the floor, using sleeping bags and cushions from the chairs. I have never had more fun with so many people in such a small space.



We stayed in Brussels for about two days and enjoyed every minute of it. While tooling around Brussels, we ran into countless waffle trucks and stands, a theme park based on a mini world, and the famous Manneken Pis. But one of the best parts was for the first time since we arrived in Europe, the five of us sat down and had Friday night dinner. We made a feast of mashed potatoes, pasta, bread, salad and many other yummy dishes. We ate, laughed and reminisced over our travels and our homes. We all went to bed that night stuffed and nostalgic for Sabbath back home. 

Well, reader, I didn't think I would write this much for one break.. so I might have to do a continuation of this "recap." But please, enjoy the pictures and laugh at all the silly things that happened to us.