I'm writing this from a couch in Boston, in front of a television on which the Patriots game is playing, while my aunt is in the kitchen, roasting pork chops and steamed vegetables. Hello, America! :)
There's so much to say; I can barely write. You know what I mean?
Well, before I left Barcelona, I took a four-day trip to Rome, by myself. I thought it'd be lonely, walking around one of the world's most romantic cities, completely alone. But as it turns out, I'm better company than I thought... and I wasn't quite alone.
The best part of Rome wasn't the Vatican, or the Colosseum, or even the Sistine Chapel — although all of these amazing sights left me speechless. The best part was seeing these world wonders and realizing that in the face of all this physical, tangible beauty, nothing elicited the same feeling of warmth and awe that I've felt around the people I love. These buildings — the greatest testaments of man's ability to build and create — were nothing compared to the way Love has made me and the people around me completely new.
My time in Boston has been relaxing, rewarding, and lovely so far. My aunt has already helped me see the best is yet to come, and that I have nothing to be afraid of, coming back home.
I guess I should explain. I was a little bit afraid of coming home. It's always weird when people tell you you've changed, even if they mean it in a good way. And it's also really cool, when the people who know you best can help you see things that you can't on your own. So I was scared, I guess. Of hearing those things and not knowing what to expect. But my aunt has been more encouraging, uplifting, and reassuring than I could ever ask for... she's really cool. so here I am, US! Home. Well, in the country at least.
So here's to being home. Here's to the end of this blog, I guess. Here's to the end of one of the most difficult and rewarding adventures of my life.
And here's to the beginning of all the adventures to come.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
No pasa nada
"No pasa nada" is a phrase used in Spanish that's similar to the English "Don't worry about it" or literally, "Nothing happened" — you use it when someone apologizes for bumping into you on the metro, or when life surprises you with a seemingly less-than-pleasant experience. I'm not sure if I'm using it correctly, but over the past few weeks Genevieve and I have adapted it as a new way to say "Hakuna Matata."
I realize I haven't blogged in awhile, and for the two of you who actually read this, I'm sorry! I'm sure the past month has been miserable without having to muddle through my ramblings and word-barf. Ha, ha. Well, for my own sake, I realized I haven't been writing very much about what has actually "pasado" in my life, so here is a terrible attempt at summarizing the past few weeks:
Marrakech & Amzimiz, Morocco
Whisked from the noise of Barcelona to the bustle of Marrakech. I don't speak Arabic. Rode camels, bartered for scarves, etc. etc. While in Mararkech, we spent time with Moroccan university students, who seemed excited to practice their English. That's one thing too: everywhere we go, everyone is trying to learn English. Realized how incredibly blessed we are to simply be born in an English-speaking country. Proof of how our lives are not necessarily up to us.
We had facilitated discussions with a professor of English and several other university students, about our perceptions of Islam and about their perceptions of the West. One of the first questions we were asked was "Why don't Americans like Muslims?" Most of us were speechless. I then remembered all of the heated comments and discussions that arose after September 11th, and for the most part, barely any of them referenced individuals as being responsible for the attacks — nearly everyone blamed Islam. How did we get there? When did we start thinking it was right to blame an entire group of people for something done by a few? The professor came prepared with handouts explaining the Koran and highlighting verses that specifically instruct Muslims not to commit violent acts. I was struck, not by the verses, but by the fact that he was so prepared to defend himself, his faith, and his people to us. Ready to defend himself. When was the last time you walked into a room ready to defend yourself against a group of people who you thought hated you? I admired his bravery and his willingness to show us what he believed. I also realized that he would most likely never have an opportunity like that if he were in the US. Land of the free, right.
The trip to Amzmiz was an entirely different experience. We stayed with a family in a village, where we didn't have running water, heat, or eating utensils (well, our host family eventually brought us spoons because we were such an embarrassment when we tried to use our hands and failed). I had never been to a developing country before — and I know everyone says this, and I can't blame them — my eyes were yanked open. What! The conditions in which these people lived made the Tenderloin look like a five-star resort; and the people that lived there seemed so much happier than most people I know in the States. Humbling, in several ways — and I was only there for four days. We take trips like this all the time, visiting developing countries, helping when we can, hoping something changes — and I realized that no matter how much time we spend there, we have an escape that they don't — we can always go home. We can always go back to the States. Even if we never do, we always have that option. I will never be humbled enough in that way.
Being there just reminded me how much we really need Jesus - how much more liberated and joyful we are in confronting our need, instead of denying it. How many of us chose to be born in the US? How many of us chose to be born with two arms, two legs, free of diseases? How many of us chose to have friends that love us? My guess is, none of us. Why do we waste so much time pretending to be self-sufficient, when we are anything but? Why do we take so much pride in doing things ourselves, when in the long run we do absolutely nothing alone? I struggle with this all the time — since I was little, I was always trying to prove to [in reality, no one because no one cares] someone, somewhere — that I can take care of myself. Who was/am I kidding? It was only when I stopped "leaning on my own understanding" and being like, "God - I can't do anything. Help!" that my perspective & heart changed. How can you attribute your entire world, your entire view and attitude about life, changing — how can you attribute that to anything but something that is BIGGER than this world? BIGGER than this life?
See? I ramble. But all with good intent, I hope.
Like I said, Morocco was eye-opening — and I say that warily, because I was there for four days — I can only imagine how grounding and humbling it would be to be there longer...
It was cool that our host sister shared many of the same interests with us. She told us about a crush she has on this boy, and that she wants to marry him and is really excited about her wedding. That's what I'm talking about, everybody! EVERYONE wants to fall in love, whether you live in the States or a small mountain village in Morocco. Love is pretty darn universal. :)
Sevilla & Granada
Was a really fantastic weekend, just filled with laughter and seeing an old friend that I haven't seen in in nearly two years or something. You know how it is, when you hang out with friends from high school, and you can't help but be a little (or a lot) like you were back then? It was cool to see him and remember who I was freshman year in college and realize that I might not even be friends with that girl now — but also, that some of the best parts of me (that sometimes only best friends can bring out :)) are still fully intact and kickin.
I feel silly & blessed.
I started this adventure with a solo trip to Madrid, Spain and I'm ending it with a solo trip to Rome, Italy.
I'm thinking of it as my weekend getaway with myself to relax, reflect, and adventure before the tumult and emotion of saying goodbye to the life I've made here begins... I really will miss this place.
I realize I haven't blogged in awhile, and for the two of you who actually read this, I'm sorry! I'm sure the past month has been miserable without having to muddle through my ramblings and word-barf. Ha, ha. Well, for my own sake, I realized I haven't been writing very much about what has actually "pasado" in my life, so here is a terrible attempt at summarizing the past few weeks:
Marrakech & Amzimiz, Morocco
Whisked from the noise of Barcelona to the bustle of Marrakech. I don't speak Arabic. Rode camels, bartered for scarves, etc. etc. While in Mararkech, we spent time with Moroccan university students, who seemed excited to practice their English. That's one thing too: everywhere we go, everyone is trying to learn English. Realized how incredibly blessed we are to simply be born in an English-speaking country. Proof of how our lives are not necessarily up to us.
We had facilitated discussions with a professor of English and several other university students, about our perceptions of Islam and about their perceptions of the West. One of the first questions we were asked was "Why don't Americans like Muslims?" Most of us were speechless. I then remembered all of the heated comments and discussions that arose after September 11th, and for the most part, barely any of them referenced individuals as being responsible for the attacks — nearly everyone blamed Islam. How did we get there? When did we start thinking it was right to blame an entire group of people for something done by a few? The professor came prepared with handouts explaining the Koran and highlighting verses that specifically instruct Muslims not to commit violent acts. I was struck, not by the verses, but by the fact that he was so prepared to defend himself, his faith, and his people to us. Ready to defend himself. When was the last time you walked into a room ready to defend yourself against a group of people who you thought hated you? I admired his bravery and his willingness to show us what he believed. I also realized that he would most likely never have an opportunity like that if he were in the US. Land of the free, right.
The trip to Amzmiz was an entirely different experience. We stayed with a family in a village, where we didn't have running water, heat, or eating utensils (well, our host family eventually brought us spoons because we were such an embarrassment when we tried to use our hands and failed). I had never been to a developing country before — and I know everyone says this, and I can't blame them — my eyes were yanked open. What! The conditions in which these people lived made the Tenderloin look like a five-star resort; and the people that lived there seemed so much happier than most people I know in the States. Humbling, in several ways — and I was only there for four days. We take trips like this all the time, visiting developing countries, helping when we can, hoping something changes — and I realized that no matter how much time we spend there, we have an escape that they don't — we can always go home. We can always go back to the States. Even if we never do, we always have that option. I will never be humbled enough in that way.
Being there just reminded me how much we really need Jesus - how much more liberated and joyful we are in confronting our need, instead of denying it. How many of us chose to be born in the US? How many of us chose to be born with two arms, two legs, free of diseases? How many of us chose to have friends that love us? My guess is, none of us. Why do we waste so much time pretending to be self-sufficient, when we are anything but? Why do we take so much pride in doing things ourselves, when in the long run we do absolutely nothing alone? I struggle with this all the time — since I was little, I was always trying to prove to [in reality, no one because no one cares] someone, somewhere — that I can take care of myself. Who was/am I kidding? It was only when I stopped "leaning on my own understanding" and being like, "God - I can't do anything. Help!" that my perspective & heart changed. How can you attribute your entire world, your entire view and attitude about life, changing — how can you attribute that to anything but something that is BIGGER than this world? BIGGER than this life?
See? I ramble. But all with good intent, I hope.
Like I said, Morocco was eye-opening — and I say that warily, because I was there for four days — I can only imagine how grounding and humbling it would be to be there longer...
It was cool that our host sister shared many of the same interests with us. She told us about a crush she has on this boy, and that she wants to marry him and is really excited about her wedding. That's what I'm talking about, everybody! EVERYONE wants to fall in love, whether you live in the States or a small mountain village in Morocco. Love is pretty darn universal. :)
Sevilla & Granada
Was a really fantastic weekend, just filled with laughter and seeing an old friend that I haven't seen in in nearly two years or something. You know how it is, when you hang out with friends from high school, and you can't help but be a little (or a lot) like you were back then? It was cool to see him and remember who I was freshman year in college and realize that I might not even be friends with that girl now — but also, that some of the best parts of me (that sometimes only best friends can bring out :)) are still fully intact and kickin.
I feel silly & blessed.
I started this adventure with a solo trip to Madrid, Spain and I'm ending it with a solo trip to Rome, Italy.
I'm thinking of it as my weekend getaway with myself to relax, reflect, and adventure before the tumult and emotion of saying goodbye to the life I've made here begins... I really will miss this place.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Almost
Taking in as much Barcelona as I can these last couple of weeks.
Who knew these crowded city streets could be so beautiful?
Blessed.
Who knew these crowded city streets could be so beautiful?
Blessed.
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