Across the Pond.

"Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence?

If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!

If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.

If I say, "Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,"

even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you."

(psalm 139:7-12)

{gift from a dear friend - before "crossing the pond"}

No matter where I go, I am never alone.

Until next year...

Today was my last day in 2009 with the niños, as I leave for the states on Tuesday! As I parted ways with the teachers/students, I was filled with mixed emotions. The way I have been knit into the community here tricks my mind into thinking I have been here forever; while at the same time, it has been such a rapid learning curve that 2.5 months has passed as though I just arrived! The kids are finally settling into the routine and are familiar with my lessons&songs... it feels strange to leave them at the moment I finally see improvement.

{field trip with the ninos to buy a turtle.}

{i had them make a Tree in Autumn from sponge-painted leaves... could have been disastrous, but actually turned out as an identifiable autumn tree.}

And yet, I am ready to leave. When I fly back stateside, it only feels right that I am returning to 2 homes: Waco & Chicago. In Waco, I will be greeted by besties and the nostalgia that comes with Baylor life; and in Chicago, the warmth of Christmas festivities and family. I am so lucky to return to so many loves... I feel like I am getting the best of both worlds this break.

When I hit the ground, it will be culture shock on a few different levels: 1. USA 2. Texas 3. My best friend's wedding!!! What a way to return... I am so excited!

{carrie.britt.kims.sush.cannie.jennyc.

...the loves i will see in Texas!}

Hey, teach.

a little peek into life with the ninos and what i do everyday...

as seen here.

and here.

:)

Away.

"The hardest thing to convey is how lovely it all is and how that loveliness seems all you need. The ghosts that haunted you in New York or Pittsburgh will haunt you anywhere you go, because they’re your ghosts and the house they haunt is you. But they become disconcerted, shaken, confused for half a minute, and in that moment on a December at four o’clock when you’re walking from the bus stop to the rue Saint-Dominique and the lights are twinkling across the river – only twinkling in the bateaux-mouches, luring the tourists, but still… you feel as if you’ve escaped your ghosts if only because, being you, they’re transfixed looking at the lights in the trees on the other bank, too, which they haven’t seen before, either.

It’s true that you can’t run away from yourself. But we were right: You can run away."

- Adam Gopnik, "From Paris to the Moon"

{photo taken over the weekend on an excursion to Basque Country with teachers.}

Sunday

is magical here.

Not because of anything extraordinary... but because of the way people choose to live. Just normal, everyday life is lived slowly. Thoughtfully. With a focus on relationships and people.

{the streets I walk}

I wake up and peruse the Sunday market. I haggle prices in Spanish, and purchase a few gifts for friends. It is Nov 15 and autumn is in its prime. I inhale the 74 degree weather, and smile as spots of red, green, and yellow leaves fall around me. Warm wind coasts off the sea. I take my book and my ipod and sit in the park for a few hours - mostly reading, but also watching families stroll through and elderly couples hold hands. I listen as babies are cooed in Spanish nursery rhymes. Deciding to walk the streets, I notice a gentle calm over the city. A stillness lies within quiet, whispery conversations. I read every sign I pass, attempting to pick up new vocabulary from window shopping. Everything is closed - but people are out, enjoying the fresh air and good company. I mentally note new restaurants I want to try, and favorite places to take friends when they visit. Kids run past me with a soccer ball, laughing and playing. I pass cafes buried within stone walls, while the aroma of coffee and tapas fills my senses. The streets I walk are lined with brick, and if you look through the spaces, you see a background of mountains and sea.

I never could have imagined life could be like this. This is becoming my most favorite place on earth. I love it more and more each day. The only thing missing are all my loves in the world whom I wish were here to share it with me.... so, come visit!

{patches of mountains and ocean appear when you least expect it.}

Thought.

Home.

What is it?

A common phrase: "See you at home."

Is home one place...? Many places...? Anywhere?

Hmmmm.

Tut, tut.

Last night I went to bed at 11PM and woke up ten hours later to the gentle dripping of rain.

My exact thought: “That was the best night’s sleep I’ve had since being here.”

Until I realized that “drip of rain” was dropping from a giant bubble in the ceiling about .3 seconds away from drenching me in a Spanish rainstorm. Through hazy morning eyes, I began to notice that the exact “sleep machine-like” sounds that had coaxed me into deep stages of REM sleep were just false forms of comfort wooing me into a scheme to float me into another piso. The rain now created small pools of water along the perimeter of my room, slowly transforming into puddles that would be difficult to navigate without raingear.

Thinking quick - I grabbed my umbrella, located my movil, and phoned the Dueno, lacing my words with urgency as if I believed the Spanish cared about hurrying.

“Manana, manana, manana…” was the best I could do.

So tonight… I have a Spanish waterbed. It could be worse, I suppose.

Today, I was 'clever.'

Why?

Because I suggested that we assign each student an ID number on their library card.

If you consider this obvious, stop being so American.

Any advice that offers a hint of organization will be treated as though you hung the moon.

Echoes of “brilliant… smart… clever” resonated down the hall. Teachers scribbled notes as I expounded upon this foreign system. Hugs were exchanged.

I’m going to opt on the side of ignoring the limited English vocabulary these teachers know, and consider myself a genius. Just for today.

Sic 'ems Abroad.

I got lucky 2 weekends in a row.

First in Madrid, then in Nice.

I met up with two dearhearts (and their traveling Team America) while they are taking a month to travel Europe on Baylor’s Maastricht program. In Madrid, we hung with locals in a cave of sangria and tapas, exchanging stories from abroad and barely making it to the Spanish version of “early” (3AM). This past weekend, we discussed the art of travel and laughed at French Halloween costumes over wine and crepes in Nice. We tossed terracotta into the Mediterranean Sea, hiked to a waterfall overlooking the city, and got lost amidst markets of flowers and books.

These girls have given themselves to the life of a vagabond in Europe, and I loved every minute of it. While they travel in a group, they are both individually on a unique journey of brave discoveries and reflections about the world around them, and the home they will soon return to in Texas. This experience has bred a new piece of each girl, which I see so clearly, as I have walked with both of them since the beginning of Baylor life. It was refreshing to hug familiar faces after a month of feeling foreign, and I return to my apartment in Santander so full. Love you girls. Here’s to night trains, bracelet buddies, perma-sic ‘ems, trundle beds, and scoots! ;)

{I am an adopted member of the team}

{Nice... you are beauty.}

{books... books... books}

{our honeymoon}

{heather. lauren. loves.}

Duende.

"The duende's arrival always means a radical change in forms. It brings to old places unknown feelings of freshness, with the quality of something newly created, like a miracle, and it produces an almost religious enthusiasm."

- Federico Garcia Lorca "In Search of Duende"

"Duende" : Lorca describes it as that place of deep emotion that surpasses words, the part of a performance that interacts with its audience in an exchange of feelings beyond what is seen or heard. To know duende is to strip a song of the rules and linguistics, the skill or the lyrics... and allow it to take you somewhere that words cannot shape.

Being here, in Spain, the duende resonates in my spirit... I see it written all over this culture and these people. And now I finally understand what it is that makes this place so special. The Spanish sense the rhythms from others - they open their hearts and minds to experiences and people in a seemingly effortless manner because the duende is at the core of who they are. It originated here and will always remain in this place.

"she had to rob herself of skill and security, send away her muse and become helpless, that her duende might come and deign to fight her hand to hand..." -FGL

Initiation.

My roommates here have made it their new favorite hobby to help me adapt to Spanish life. Including:

{Whole, live fish in the grocery store.}

{Unrefrigerated, boxed milk... in our very small elevator.}

{Drink of Choice: Colimocho: half red wine/half coke.}

{Hit the town... Spanish disco style.}

{Out until 7:30 in the AM with roommates + friends}

Whatever it takes to be a Spaniard, ya know?

Not in Chicago Anymore.

The moments it becomes the most obvious:

-When your principal shows up to school in a shirt that says "The Shit Factory." To work with preschoolers.

-Attempting to take part in your favorite candy... then realizing you can't afford it. (A bag of small peanut M&M's cost 2.60 euros (about $5)...)

-Waiting 20 mins for the next elevator, because the first one couldn't fit more than 3 people.

-Becoming an expert at ignoring people. And by people, I mean men.

-Getting hungry at 1 o'clock, then realizing everything is closed.

-Eating something that appears to be a sushi roll... and later finding out it is dried pig's blood.

-Mastering two words: si and no.

-Meeting up with friends at 8. Showing up at 9. I'm on time... /early?!?!

... To name a few. More to come.

Life as a Foreigner.

The longer I am here, the more I accidentally assimilate into this culture. 'Accidental' because I find myself in situations that require more mental energy than I am used to applying... Everything I do, everywhere I go, is a learning experience. Even the most simple daily activities (going to the grocery store, going out for a drink, asking directions, doing laundry... unlocking the door to my flat...?) take more effort! (As reinforced by my roommates when I threw my laundry out to dry in one big pile b/c I didn't want it to fly away... only to find out later about the purposes for clothespins.... 8 floors up... oops.) So, I am slowly adapting to life here, and finding that it is so much more enjoyable than the hustle/bustle of the states. For instance, 8AM is considered "waking up at the crack of dawn," and eating dinner before 9PM is a really early night. They take their siestas here very seriously - and everything closes down from 1-4. The boardwalk along the oceanfront is later filled with people doing a "paseo" - a walk with their family and friends. At around 5 or 6PM they will stop at a nearby cafe for a drink and "meriendas" (snacks). I am convinced the Spanish have discovered how to live. And it is perfect.

{Clothes hanging out to dry... A novelty to me, daily life for them.}

Earlier today I went to the Oficina de Extranjeros (Foreign Office), and had to make yet another appointment to process my paperwork. Everything takes longer here - everything. Nobody is in a rush. Tomorrow I head to school for Day 2... My principal picks me up in the morning for a 30 min drive through the mountains, and then I take the bus home at around 1PM. Should be interesting to see what awaits at mi cole mañana...

My heart is full of thankfulness for my life here.

Mi cole.

I was greeted with the warmest of welcomes upon arrival to CEI Los Puentes yesterday. Within 5 mins of being there, a kid threw up, another one had a crisis, and the class hamster was dead.

Welcome to the life of an English teacher in a Primary school in Spain.

Other than that... I consider myself fortunate to be at Los Puentes. The principal, David, quickly became a good friend, and the other 14 teachers are delightful (though none of them speak a word of English.) I was shown around the school and introduced to each class by asking for students' names in English, then answering "Nice to meet you."

Post-Meet&Greet session, I sat with David as we discussed what I would be teaching for the year. I told him that I would prefer to plan with the other English teachers to map out the year. As I went into detail, proudly presenting my teacher vocabulary from undergrad (lesson plans, syntax/schema, language development, unit themes) my manifesto was met with a puzzled look and a broken English explanation... I quickly gathered that there aren't, in fact, "other English teachers."

I am it. Here I am. 130 students, 15 Spanish teachers, and one English teacher: me.

The good news? They have given me total freedom to teach content in a method that works for me. The bad news? I am writing an English curriculum from scratch... and I have never taught English. (Trying desperately to channel the creativity from student teaching... ideas welcome.)

While I find this position already a bit challenging, I am equally excited for the prospects of experimenting in a pedagogy I have never used before. My heart melts every time I hear a "hi-low" from a student, as they attempt to form the English words. I can feel myself growing closer and closer with this country and its people... I just hope there's no more vomit involved.

Movil!

After much pointing and "baratos"... I officially own a Spanish cell!!!

Soon, I will have a piso. Not sure when, but on Thursday I am kicked out of this place, so hopefully before then...?

Santander...

I love that I look out and see the ocean and mountains. I love that I am surrounded by families and students. I love the architecture and character of the city. I love that I am slowly learning Spanish. I love this place. Love.it.

¿La Playa, Por Favor?

So today I hopped (read: lugged pounds of baggage) on a 4.5 hour train from Madrid to Santander... the northern coastal city I will be teaching near. The train ride was BEAUTIFUL - and felt a bit epic as we rode through green mountains overlooking the ocean, and under valleys along Spanish countryside. I already miss Madrid, but I am trying hard to embrace this new city.

Upon arrival, I immediately noticed that nobody speaks English here. Not even the basics (that you can get away with in larger cities.) Ahhhhh! I underestimated the level of difficulty of living in a country where you do not speak the language. All I want to do at this point is learn Spain´s Spanish... which is SO very different from any Spanish I have ever heard/attempted to speak. Ever. But, before I learn the language, I must find a flat. (Which becomes increasingly difficult when you don´t know the language...uhhh...).

After settling into my hostel, I examined the map to find what appeared to be many beaches. So I set out in search of one in Santander. Hours later, I apparently didn´t realize how far I had gone... b/c I hit the ´´Salida a Santander´´ sign, which was entirely counterproductive to what I was trying to achieve. And still no beach. I settled for a seaport. And might try not to walk again for awhile. And might go order a pitcher of sangria right.this.moment.

Tonight, a group of us Auxiliares are all meeting up for tapas/dinner. I haven´t met any of them yet; I have no idea what to expect. I am just hoping I can find them... and if all else fails, I plan to start speaking loudly in English.

And so my first moments in Santander go... time for a much needed siesta. Hasta!

Good luck, Chicago.

It might be a hard fight. In Spain they are holding rallies and free concerts and giving hats for the Olymics 2016... you???

{City Centre}

{The spot where we heard Juanes would be holding a concert... Turns out it was a different dude- but just as good!}

{Concert went all day, all night... in true Spanish form.}

First 24.

It hasn't been very long... But I am already in love with this place.

{You can almost see the bench where I sat in a jetlagged coma for a good hour.}

{Best moment of my trip: Whilst slumbering off the jet lag in my hostel, I hear a knock at the door and a "Is Rebecca here?" ... To find this dear one. I love this girl. So thankful that she is here to teach me the Spanish way!}

{Cafe, a few hours and pitcher of sangria later...}

{Love this spot.}

Tomorrow... more adventures await.

Bon Voyage!

I am lucky to have so many people to miss.

{Goodbye's and Tapas. I have a feeling this is only the beginning of my love for Spanish food...}

{Micks throws me a goodbye party... and has a bit of difficulty w/ translating.}

{Direct Translation: Happy Mischief}

{She sketched a cake.}

{And there it is. My city - Santander - at the top!}

{She's the best.}

{Moon lit porch party - family/friends.}

{Packing. Yikes.}

Tomorrow is the day. I can't wait to set foot in this country I have dreamt about for so long.

Long Live Lola.

When people look at my car, they often use adjectives such as "junk" or "piece" or "beater"... my brother casually mentioned turning her in for Cash for Clunkers, and I was genuinely offended. Because when I look at Lola, all I see are road trips from Chicago to Texas, riding the valley, dance parties, and, in essence, Baylor Life. She was my first car - '91 Acura Legend - and to me she will always be freedom. Yet, in a few short days, she will also be a thing of the past. This has been hard for me to come terms with, as it's not just the car... it's the life. A new life is starting for me, and selling her is the first step. unload, simplify, start anew. I know this transition is important, but the process is still so difficult.

Below you will find some of Lola's finest moments:

{Halloween 2k6}

{Last minute road trip to Austin - midnight of finals 2k7}

{NoRo}

{Mattress transportation - moving in 2k7}

{Birthday kidnappings... so many}

{Lola had to be towed back to chicago on a U-Haul, going at a max speed of 56 mph, post-graduation 2k8}

{Late night HEB run, came back with a kiddie pool, 2k5}

It's time to say goodbye. But we all know that Lola will forever live on.

Flash Mob.

The new thing???

Chicago seems to think so.

Gear.

There is SO much out there... who knew that packing light required so much gear?! Silly me.

So, I went into the local outdoor store in search for a nalgene. And came out with this and this and this and this and this and this and this.

Oh Rick.

He helped me travel europe in 2k7. I am already sifting through his Spain / Best of Europe books for this go around. Where would I be without him???

Exactly.

In a frenzied I-am-really-doing-this moment, I emailed a good friend who has been a source of encouragement for me in this past season of questions and decisions. I met him shortly after he returned from teaching in Prague for 5 years, and he was an immediate inspiration. On so many levels - he gets it. He just does. His words have lent me a bit of sanity, as they often seem to do:

"It gets crazier and crazier the closer you get, doesn't it. Not just cuz you're saying goodbye to your family and friends, and not just cuz you're saying goodbye to the chi and texass- though those are readily on your mind-, but because you secretly know deep down inside that you are about to set off to a whole different life than the one you now know. That's the best part. Even if it's the one we think about the least when it gets this hectic."

It has often been in the moments when I feel the most Lacking that this friend of mine has brought me to a place of feeling equipped and excited for my journey. When I have expected him to affirm this underlying sense that I am crazy, he has shown me understanding and support. Although high schoolers are his students, he has taught me so much. I really mean it -

Thank you.

For My Travels.

I have always loved documenting moments - whether in writing or photos, illegible scribbles or fragments of ticket stubs. I could travel on nothing but a pen, paper, and camera if I had to... [clothing is overrated...?] In this way, I have sought out the essentials before I leave.

I discovered this gem at an antique store in KC. I realize that it has the potential to undermine my quest to travel light, so it might not make the cut. Sigh. Someday it will contain my records, I'm sure.

{'Record' - the noun or the verb? You decide.}

{Spain on my mind}

{and, a new digi cam! as a bday present for the 2-3.}

Obsessed.

It could be her best yet.

Los Bebés.

I stole these photos from the Colegio los puentes website - the Spanish school I will be teaching at this year. I am going to try not to accidentally adopt one... I mean, does it get much cuter??!

{ages 3 - 4}

{on a field trip to the harbor.}

{happy smiles}