Thankful

           Community is one of those things that you take for granted until you don't have it immediately present. I’m so thankful for my friend Robin, who is here with me in Spain and yet I have expereinced what it is to lack community in Spain. Both Robin and I have realized the difference in being around a group of people who really know you and who are pursuing the same goals and mission as you and have noticed when this is absent. With this, I also have encountered the sweet presence of Jesus and His provision in a whole new way. I am amazed anew by how Jesus provides everything at all times.

         I was blessed in crazy ways this past week. Multiple people commented to me this week, "Wow, you have really amazing friends! They must love you a lot!" My only response was to beam with joy, close to tears, nod, and respond, "I know, I can't believe how wonderful they are, I am so thankful for them." This was the reaction after I told everyone that five of my closest friends came from the States to visit me! Yes it’s true, my small group girls came this week and it was such an epic, sweet time together. I met them in another city in Spain, Barcelona, for the weekend. We explored the city, which is much bigger, more touristy, and more international than Granada, and we went to a Barcelona soccer game! This was a crazy experience with the most people I’ve ever seen at a sporting event. I felt a part of the culture considering futbol is one of Spain’s favorite things. 

After the weekend in Barcelona, we all came back to Granada. It was sureal to be able to show them my life here- the places I like to go to and the views I’m able to see. We went salsa dancing and to a tea house. I was encouraged in every way simply by being with them.

Right when they left I had Thanksgiving here, my program put on a mock Thanksgiving for us. I am thankful for so much: for the ability to learn Spanish here, for my family and friends, for life, for God’s grace, and for the presence of Jesus. We were off the next day traveling to two other Spanish cities, Seville and Cordoba. They were beautiful and each very different. Seville has the third largest cathedral in the world and Cordoba has the third largest Mosque, now converted to a cathedral. It’s still strange to me to be seeing things and walking on bridges, for example that Julius Cesar walked on or that were constructed thousands of years ago. I’m still struck with how different everything is here from what I know in the United States.

I have less then a month here now, time is winding down. I’ve decided to only speak Spanish this entire month, to everyone, on every occasion, to journal in Spanish, pray in Spanish, and think in Spanish. I pray for understanding, patience, and self control with this.

This past weekend a wave of home sickness hit me. This is strange for me as I normally am a very present person and don’t often have homesick feelings. I’m not sure if it was the holiday or simply the fact that I have been away since the middle of August, but I definitely experienced a few moments of longing to be home. In the midst of this I am realizing how it’s often necessary for a renewal of purpose. I needed to hear from God again, what am I doing here? What are the reasons you have me here with these people, this place, doing these things? When you hit emotional lows, it is vital to be stripped of yourself and realize things bigger than yourself. Hallelujah for the grace of God’s purposes for us.

         

Mastafaw

Morocco!

At times Spain still seems foreign to me with its language, fake peanut butter (they only have peanut butter here made with 90% peanuts and I couldn’t tell you what the other 10% is…), and different customs, yet this past weekend I entered a different world entirely. This one with sand, camels, Arabic, and little boys everywhere. I went from being in England to Morocco 24 hours later.

        We went into the desert for two nights and stayed in tents in the middle of nowhere in between the sand dunes and the Milky Way. The nomadic people in the area, the Berber people were wonderful. Most of them can’t read or write, yet they know between 5-6 languages, learning just from the tourists who come. Amazing! Every time I ventured into the sand dunes, day or night, all I had to do was wait a few moments and bam, there would be a nomad, seemingly out of nowhere to talk to you. One night Robin and I went out to talk away from the camp and two Berbers came up and sat down with us. We talked for more than an hour with them about things of daily life, culture, and God. It seemed surreal at times in the conversation. I was humbled in the way this man, Mastafaw, shared about the simplicity of the life he leads. He passes the day, working, learning from the “escuela de vida”, the “school of life” as he called it, and being with people. If he doesn’t get to eat that day, it’s okay they just drink more water; if he is too far from his camp one night he just sleeps under the stars; if he’s cold he just pulls more sand around him for insulation. He told how many of the tourists who come end up being too uncomfortable and preoccupied that they don’t experience the culture.

        I came on this trip as a tourist. This isn’t the way I normally like to experience places, but I was with my program and thus 70 other Americans, not ideal to say the least. We were treated like tourists, waited on at points, marked for all of the pitches to buy this rock or that bracelet. Also like tourists, there was an ample amount of complaining and attitudes of entitlement.

        This made me start pondering how I don’t want to be a tourist in life. I saw how being a tourist in Morocco immediately created so many barriers between me and the people of Morocco. It was an interchange of culture but established on a surface level in the way of what do we need from each other, “I need your business and your money.” On the other side, “I need a good experience and the material possessions that you offer.” Tourists aren’t vulnerable; tourists only engage people on the surface level; tourists are guarded and hold tightly their possessions; tourists aren’t willing to be uncomfortable.

        There is a difference between a tourist and a journeyman or sojourner. This trip made me question where in my life am I traveling as a tourist? Where am I just scratching the surface, too scared of uncomfortibility or of engaging with people? Where do I maintain an attitude of entitlement that closes my eyes to the perspectives or needs of others? I want to be a sojourner, a journeyman who holds truth, light, hope, and life wherever I wander. 

This is Robin and I on the ferry to Morocco with the Rock of Gibraltar in the background. 

This is the Medina of Fez that we visited. It has 15,000 winding streets with 90,000 shops that all contain the handicrafts of artisans who work in the same manner as from the 13th century. 

In the Medina at a rug shop. I felt like Jasmine so we recreated the Magic carpet and Aladin.

This is the camel I rode.

This is the camp we stayed in for 2 nights.