Pealing Skin

          Today I was reminded of Seattle; it rained today. The Seattle kind of rain where it is soft and goes on for a long time. I sat with my good friend Robin, who is now my roommate, in a cafe to study. Besides the rain though, everything else was different. I drank my coffee plain, without any extra flavors, extra hot, upside down, non-fat, or any other individual changes. I got starred at a lot while walking in the streets, the only one without an umbrella and the only one wearing a rain jacket. I ate dinner at ten and went salsa dancing instead of swing dancing as I would do in Seattle. Even after being here for a month I am still aware of the differences and find myself so intrigued and laughing a lot. My friend Robin arrived on Sunday from Washington and is staying to study with me the rest of the time. I am so, so thankful that she is here. It's crazy because I was doing really well this past month and thriving, but I didn't realize the affects and intensity of being alone until she came. God is so faithful with His timing and provision in bringing Robin, I am so blessed. I'm already looking back on the past month of being alone and recognizing ways that God has grown and changed me.

        I've gone to the beach the past two weekends, each time with a different group of girls. It's the Mediterranean, blue and clear, and so fun. Being from Colorado, I'm not used to salt water or the beach or being able to go cliff jumping into an ocean. The first weekend I went I burnt to a crisp, the second weekend I wore a shirt and shorts the whole day, my skin still recovering. The past week and a half my whole back pealed off to a new layer of skin. In a lot of ways that is what has been happening to me while here, God is pealing off parts of me and making me aware of new fresh things. It has been my prayer as well, that He would continue to peal off the dead or old parts of me as I draw near to Him and burn with His flame. I have found that when you ask God these things, He is sure to answer.

         The rest of the kids in my program have arrived and things are shifting here. Summer is drawing to a close so people aren't out on the streets as late, the weather is turning cooler, and school starts on Monday. My experience this past month of being alone and of waiting is drawing to a close. Many of the things that I've gotten the response, "Yes, yes, good, good, wait until everyone comes" (they talk in doubles here a lot...) when asked is beginning: many of the cultural activities, intramural sports, volunteering opportunities, intercambios ( a spanish student you meet with to practice your spanish with), and traveling.
        I'm grateful for this past month and excited for the change as well. It reminds me of a quote that was on a tea bag I had while in the wilderness this summer, "Live in each season as it passes; breath the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit.." by Henry David Thoreau. As well as the words of Soloman, "there is a time for everything...He [God] has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity into the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from the beginning to the end..." Ecclesiastes 3

Cultural Fun Fact #3: Nocturnal Beings

I’ve taken to walking the streets at night. This is not because I have a death wish or am making dumb, rash decisions; rather this is because they seem to be nocturnal beings over here. It is common for them to go out with friends at hours when only bats and other nocturnal creatures roam about, namely between the hours of midnight and dawn, around 7 in the morning.

Last night I made dinner with some new friends around midnight, which translated to a walk home around 2:30 am. My new friends responded to my leaving saying, “Aren’t you coming out with us? It’s early” That is when I debated in my head, do I want to walk home alone now, at 2:30 or at 5:00 like I did a few nights ago, is there a difference? I chose the former last night, laughing to myself at this cultural difference. As I was walking home I was thinking about how I wasn’t fearful at all of walking alone as a girl in the dark in a foreign city. I wonder if this fear or lack thereof is a conditioned emotional response at times. Since being here I have maybe done this a dozen times already. The first times my heart would beat faster, filled with adrenaline my whole way home. Now it doesn’t. It doesn’t because I feel that my body has grown accustomed to emulate the state of my mind, which is at peace. You do what is necessary. In this situation, it is necessary that I surrender these nightly walks to God, and live in the peace that my God provides. If not fear and worry, not peace or joy, life or love, faith or hope would reign in my mind.

I wonder if this extends beyond just my becoming accustomed to Spain’s nocturnal habits. Where else in my life is fear or worry something I am conditioned to or that I feel habitually with the excuse “because I always have…” or “I’m supposed to fear this….or be worried about this…” I am not a person who is very fearful or worrisome of external causes, such as pain, people, death, heights, or objects. Yet I’ve realized it is sometimes internal and abstract things I fear-not being good enough, not doing enough, failing at loving people or being a testimony of light for the world. Through this experience, this week God has been teaching me that if I fear these things it takes away from fully living into the abundant life He has come to bring (John 10.10). Rather if I fear God alone, the only one who is sovereign and powerful, this opens up doors for the fruits of Life to flourish. This is one of the ways that knowing Jesus sets us apart. For some it may be having this realization of fearing God rather than the world infiltrate through external fears, for me it is letting this truth penetrate my internal ones. I’m practicing this new way of thinking. This has brought a new perspective on the peace of the Lord that passes understanding. God is so present with me, at all times, in all situations. Hallelujah. We belong to and serve a very near God. Hallelujah.

Psalm 91

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust”…You will not fear the terror of the night, not the arrow that flies by day, not the pestilence that stalks in the darkness not the plague that destroys at midday…”

nor the abstracts of my heart…

Fun Cultural Fact #2

          They do not wear hats here...at all. Funny story with this, yesterday I went to the supermarket with my family (it was the first time I've been in a car since being here) and I had quick but on a hat before leaving because I had come from the pool and my hair was crazy. It wasn't just a baseball cap, but a cute, trendy brown hat. When we got to the store, my host dad, Antonio, looked at me and chuckled. I asked why he was laughing and he pointed to my hat. Sure enough, I looked around and not one person anywhere was wearing a hat, in fact I was turning heads because I was. I probably won't wear a hat in public again. 

Graffiti

          As of today I have been in Granada for one week! It hasn't seemed like that long but then it's also seemed like much longer. Every day here I am not only learning so much more of the Spanish language, but also of the culture.  I'm going to start adding fun cultural differences and facts. 
        To start, #1: They have graffiti everywhere here. It covers walls along main streets, in the back alleyways, and on business fronts. My new art hobby is sketching Granada’s graffiti. Your first thought might be, “Wow, that sounds a little bit sketch (no pun intended :) ) or rather trashy, you should get a new hobby or rather eliminate one…” as mine was, but their graffiti here is not like ours in America. They seem to simply see the city walls as big, normal canvases, and thus they create tapestries. They paint faces and landscapes and scenes. Though it is still illegal, some shop keepers pay the artists to do their store fronts. They don’t graffiti to vandalize but to create, pretty awesome.

I went to church this morning for the first time in Spain. The people were all really friendly; there was maybe 25 people. When the pastor went to the front he began by saying,   "This is our new guest, " he pointed to me, " and what's your name?" he asked in front of the whole church. My face turned real red real quick. I didn't understand much of the service but it was refreshing and wonderful to sing praises to God with people who love Him, especially when it seems that it is very uncommon here to be religious let alone be radically in love with Jesus. At the end of the service the pastor came over and asked if I played any instruments or sang. I chuckled, I said no immediately, not wanting him to introduce me to the praise band the first day to sing in a language I don't know nor can pronounce well. They welcome you quickly here.

Conchi

Today I met a woman named Conchi. I was sitting by a cathedral and she came up. She was really old and walked with a limp that came with age. She started talking really fast but I was able to halfway have a conversation with her. She kept saying “Oh what a beautiful girl, you need to be careful. Are you alone? Don’t walk the streets by yourself…” and things like this. She said she was a religious women and from Madrid. She asked where I was from and she kept saying, “what a modern girl. What a beautiful girl”. She kissed my forehead and held my hand. At the end she was saying something about “here, tomorrow…” I wasn’t sure if she was saying I should come back there to talk to her tomorrow or not. I really like her. It seemed to fit, seeing her there with the ancient cathedral in the background. She was sweet, gentle; her words had genuine care to them. I hope I am like her as an old woman. She seems symbolic of an age passed, one where the cathedrals fit well and represented people like Conchi and were still alive with the presence of God. This woman had a glow about her. I can imagine her being someone like Mother Teresa, who though she titled herself, “religious”, did so with the authenticity of knowing her Savior deeply. Standing before me, holding my hand in hers was a woman who understands what humility looks like, what it means to serve out of the simplicity of her love for Jesus, and whose holiness is a reflection of the beauty of God rather than a display of mere morality for the eyes of men. 

I saw such contrast with Conchi, who in my mind, began to look like a sanctuary of God simply in her being and with the rest of the spirituality I've seen. In this place where there are cathedrals that are littered throughout the city, it seems as though the people have lost God. When did the house of God become simply marble, ivory, and precious metals? When did the cathedrals become sanctuaries of the sky, stars, and heaven rather than of the Sovereign King and Creator of the Universe? It is almost as if when the people lost the presence of Jesus in their hearts, they forfeited Him in their cathedrals. I wonder, when did God loose His invitation to these magnificent places originally built for Him? And yet for the soul that the Holy Spirit does indwell, these sanctuaries remain a place of awe, peace, and powerful ground to meet with God. This is my experience; the cathedrals bring me to a quietness of soul, a kindredness with the Spirit of the living God. We, as those chosen in Christ, Beloved of the Almighty, have become the temple of God who bring the presence of God into these beautifully wrought stones handled by men. It is God who makes the place holy; it is God who transforms the cathedral into a sanctuary; it is God who livens the dead walls and dead space and creates them to ring with the glory of himself. It is God forgotten. God I beg You to come in again. Create holiness here. Come renew what is lost. Make this beauty your own.

These cathedrals, alive to the apathy and sin of man yet dead to the living God are similar to us. Some things that we have created to originally be good, to house the presence and glory of God, can become just grey, manmade creations of stone: dead. It is often not the bad things that keep us from God, it is the good ones. It is the morally perfect routines, deeds, the upstanding reputations, and the niceties that come with religion that cause us to become just like the grand cathedrals of Europe. We create morality without drawing near to holiness, thereby flirting with fruits of human nature such as selfishness and pride. I long for the holiness that is a reflection of the beauty of our God; this is the aroma that will draw people to the cross. Now I am wrestling with what that aroma looks like in a strange country where I am alone, surrounded by strangers. Strangers that have captured the heart of the Almighty and need His love desperately. 

Hola Espana!

Hola Espana! Yesterday we arrived in Granada. We spent two days in Madrid and then one day in Toledo. Madrid is a huge, beautiful city with narrow coble stone streets and old buildings everywhere. The first night I went with some kids from ISA to this restaurant that serves “tapas” which are snacks/appetizers or mini meal type things. They were only one euro and there were probably 40 to choose from. I experienced the differences in culture immediately. We were at this “tapas” restaurant until maybe midnight and there were people everywhere, in the square and on the streets, and it was a Wednesday night. Apparently it gets really busy in the popular places from 2 in the morning till 5 in the morning. They sleep from 6 at night till 9 then have dinner at 10 then go out until 5 or later in the morning! Wow, and everyone tells me I’m up late at school, Spaniards have taken it to a whole new level.

In Madrid we went to the art museums of the Prado and el Reina Sophia, both are famous and house famous pieces of art. It was so great to be able to see famous paintings that I have studied or looked at in classes for years. We saw famous paintings of Velasquez, Goya, El Greco, Picasso, and Salvador Dali. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to stop and read all of the signs because we were with a guide in a group, but the tour guide did a great job at telling us information slowly and clearly so we could understand. Everyone speaks so fast here! It is so difficult because my brain stops on the first words I don’t understand or maybe understand to try to figure them out and then I loose the next 15 words and am completely lost.

On the way to Granada I had a wonderful surprise. We were at this random bus stop cafeteria place and I saw the group of students from SPU getting on a bus! I ran up to them and was able to see two girls from my floor there! Of all places in Spain, crazy; it made my day! It’s crazy because even though I’ve only been here 6 days, coming into this where I didn’t know anyone and was alone makes you completely appreciate people you care about and those who really know you. It was just what I needed, to see those girls.

I met my host family yesterday and they seem wonderful. My host mom immediately hugged and kissed me when I got off the bus. That first interaction was me, mostly smiling a lot and nodding and asking for her to please repeat herself. The rest of the night I sweated so much, not because of the temperature, even though it was hot, but because I was so nervous to talk and mess up so much and not understand them. Wow, the first day was a challenging and wonderful experience.

Tonight we saw a flamenco dance performance! It was exciting to experience such a rich part of their culture. On the way back we heard some street musicians. It was such a romantic scene: cobblestone streets, cello music, and lights from a castle fortress on the hill behind us, beautiful. Today I also found a vital component of my stay here, a perfect gelato place! It is only 1 euro and delicious!

Classes start tomorrow, the first day of my road to fluency…I hope :)