To Be Continued...

"The unknowns are the sum of the adventure"... 8 months ago I began a life in Spain that began with those words, naive to the weight of importance they would soon carry...

I left a life in the USA, unaware how this phrase would ring true over and over and over (and over) again. While searching for a place to live, or being blindly led on excursions along the coast, meeting new Spanish friends, catching a wrong bus (or 5) around the city, singing & dancing in English in front of a Spanish speaking audience, fiestas that unknowingly last until 7AM, living in airports after the Iceland volcano leaves me stranded... I have endlessly clung to that phrase while ordering food off a menu I could never read, or agreeing to see an Intercambio I have never met, or hopping a train to a town I've never heard of.

I know I don't always sit with a full sense of comfort in the feeling of Not Knowing - not to the capacity that some of my good friends&family can.

And now - pause. Spain. All I see are unknowns answered. All I see is God's Faithfulness. And all I know is that this is exactly how the story is written.

There is no way to predict what's next, or begin to picture what it looks like... (though we all have the tendency to want a hint right.now.when.I.want.it.)

I feel a new sense of peace in freedom from plans or direction - work / location / EverythingTheWorldTellsMeIneed...

This season, this year abroad, this life of youth and freedom - of teaching & travel & vagabonding & Spanish & beach - this life of carefree bliss - has been just right. I wouldn't change anything about it. Not a single thing.

While it's difficult for me to see a second past it right now, all the "adios's" I've had to give this weekend have made it feel a bit closer to Final. Though I search for the ultimate closure to this story, I also know a complete ending can't be reached. Because this story isn't over. The parts of life this year add to what was already there, and will continue to build as life goes on...

While it's goodbye to Santander, it's also hello to _________. Bring your questions, your randomness, your transition, your adventure. Wherever you are, whatever you are. I don't know what's next.

But I do know that's the best part.

Kisses.

Returned to my flat with a slobbery cheek today, because that's how it's done in Spain. Goodbyes were exchanged with 1 beso per nino, a mini fiesta, and sweet farewell gifts from teachers.

{Alicia's birthday card to Carlos. He's obviously impressed.}

As I walked out today with tears myself, I remembered those first few days... the anticipation with which I checked the Los Puentes website before leaving for Spain - picturing myself cropped into their excursion photos and school activities. Then arriving - seeing my own photo/name appear on their website, joining the teacher carpool, my first invitation to drinks out - those initial steps towards integrating into the school culture.

{Springtime flowers with some of my favorites. Shhhh - I don't have favorites...}

And how that was only the beginning. The year unfolded... I was thrown-up on, sneezed on, de-liced, run from, and trampled down. I lost my voice, I've yelled "make a circle" 100million times, and I've considered the legit outcome of throwing ninos out the window.

{St. Patrick's Day. They now associate English with the color green.}

But when I consider the year, I don't think about those moments. I remember the hugs, the endless love, the faces lighting up with learning. I hear my name shouted as I walk down the hall, 6 year-olds' phenomenal power to make me feel like a rockstar, arms around me and kisses on my cheeks. I remember glowing with smiles as I finished each day, laughing with myself on my way to the bus. Feeling purposeful, accomplished, and loved.

{I was put in charge of this holiday. There's the sign to prove it.}

For this reason, it's difficult for me to refer to what I do here as "work" (and not just b/c it's 16 hrs a week or b/c I sing and play games the majority of that time...) - it's because this school has been my family. A family of 15 teachers & 120 students.

{Making their mark.

...which ended everywhere.}

Though I feel ready & feel finished, it was sad to leave today because today I left a home.

On the Road.

Sometimes you enjoy living without a car. Other times you miss it.

A roadtrip to the south of France was one of those times.

...I attempted to capture the scenery out the window of the car... But nothing can accurately depict 85 degrees, a brilliant playlist, windows down, and the most beautiful drive of my life.

{Nonetheless, here is some of what I came out with...}

It's rarely just the destination, right??

One Week Left.

I will miss this life.

Only in America.

Soon, I have to fit 9 months of life into 1 suitcase to ship back to the states.

Since I can't do magic tricks, there's only one thing I really need: Duct Tape. After an unsuccesful search high&low for this beloved, familiar friend, I decided to seek the advice of my fellow teachers. As I began with the same explanation that elicited the thousands of blank stares and shoulder shrugs previously received, I started to assume I had hit another dead end.

But this time, a chorus of ¨Celo Americano!¨ rang forth as the famous item was recalled.

And as I went into further detail for the many uses for Duct Tape, I soon realized it was more than an appropriate title.

... American Tape. Should've guessed.

{I then took this opportunity to present, in detail, the crazy crafts that come from the Duct... wallets, book covers, shoes, prom dress competitions?... all in the name of Duct Tape. True. It's an American thing.}

Thank You, Crisis

{Per mi, la crisi ha estat una oportunitat}

Catalan for: "For me, the crisis is an opportunity."

True. Yet unexpected on an advertisement for a Job Placement Agency.

This sign was spotted with a friend in Barcelona, and we didn't stop laughing the whole day about the "opportunities" the crisis has really created:

Taking a job abroad and traveling for a year, guiltless shopping at reduced prices, entertaining more hobbies that could potentially bring an income, endless [lazy] internet time spent "job searching"...

... basically anything but employment. Turns out.

So, if I may - thank you, crisis.

These Last Few.

{Sitting, watching, listening to the waves}

With only 2 weeks of Spanish life left, I find myself returning to love everything I may have possibly hated while living here. I now sigh with endearment when I approach shops closed mid-day; a silly grin on my face while caught behind a sloooow Spaniard's stroll. It might be a street I've walked down everyday, and I'm photoing it as if it's a new discovery.

When you know the end is approaching, you start to embrace the aspects of culture that make it what it is: It's suddenly sangria every night, all kinds of tapas, meeting friends hours after we had planned, lunches that last into the night, breathing in deep during siesta to smell my neighbors cooking. Life is newly captivating, interesting, exciting. The pace of life: addicting.

I'm returning to what romanced me about Spain... and this time is sweet.

Ninos, Cultured.

(excursion to the aquarium last week. followed by a picnic on the beach!)
An aspect of education here that continues to surprise me is the amount of cultural excursions that take place. When I was their age (3yrs-6yrs), I recall field trips to the zoo, or perhaps a visit to the local hospital. These niños don't even realize how lucky they are... theaters, picnics, aquariums, cultural heritage centers... wow.

Getting Tired.

Internet. Skype. Chat. Blog.

The time difference.

The thing I hate most when home I have actually grown to miss: my cell phone.

Remembering the comfort in answering my phone to friends' sweet voices on the other end, only a phone call away.

I want to hear everything. Experience life with them. Be there.

...Sometimes the computer screen is just not enough.

2 weeks. Sigh.

Survey Says.

According to Coca-Cola's recent survey Spain is the 2nd happiest country in Europe. (1st: Romania)

"The Happiness Barometer, which put young people in 16 different countries across four continents to the test, showed that food and friends were a fundamental part of most Spaniards' happiness..."

Food&Friends. Sounds about right.

The Only Thing I Like About Iceland.

At the moment. Is this.

Suzy... you're the best. I miss you.

Joy.full.

“You anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.” Psalm 23:5

Not because of Travel. Not because of Adventure.

It’s completely, and utterly,

onehundredpercent

Him.

There is never enough discoveries to satisfy. Never enough knowledge or wisdom or inspiration. There’s nothing more, but Him alone.

And the journey. It is one of gladness. It is one of joy. It is one of peace.

This year has been a gift. Rich with experiences.

(... But not always exciting or fun.)

He still gives me Life to the Fullest because it’s Who.He.Is.

And with only a few weeks left, I am struck with His Goodness to have provided every single step.

He has never left me. He never will. Though I feel the end approaching, I am comforted in knowing the journey is not Spain. It is not Chicago. It is neither here nor there. The journey is this life He has for me. So that even after I leave, it goes on.

…and on and on and on and on...

“But may all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you;

may those who love your salvation say continually

‘Great is the Lord!”’

Psalm 40:16

Sensory Overload.

Only a tiptoe away from Spain, and you find yourself in a completely different world.

The language is Arabic, the money is Dirham, the dress is Hijab, the religion is Muslim…

Morocco.

Spice, dust, fabrics, vendors, henna, motos, coconuts, camels, markets, mosques, gypsies…

Just living, breathing, walking Moroccan life overwhelms the senses. Throw away the map, when you’re lost just follow the last “familiar smell.” Was it the Leather street, the Dye street, the Jasmine street, or the Orange street?

With our headscarves and beads, the only entertainment needed was a simple walk down the road (read: dusty, moto-crammed alley.) By Day 2 we were “regulars” in the city - known as “Fish&Chips, Spice Girls, Lemon&Chicken”…the list goes on. After mispronouncing every basic Arabic word, freaking out at the sight of a wooden camel, doing laps around the city on the reliance of strangers’ directions, almost getting sold for a half camel and 2 donkeys, and constantly bumping our heads on the small wooden doors, we gave up on any attempt to fit in with the locals. Laura’s bright blonde hair didn’t help our cause.

Nevermind that our only toilet was on the roof, or that we had rugs for beds, or that that tea replaced wine… Morocco, by a long shot, has been my favorite place to see.

For me, a step into this country was like entering a big bookstore… You thought you knew some stuff, then you realized how much more there is to discover. A sense of smallness comes over you - all of a sudden you want to see it all, know it all, live it all. [Thinking the whole time,“have I even traveled anywhere, at all, this year…???”]

My only regret was not staying longer - our limited weekend made the temptation of an excursion to the Sahara impossible.

Next time, for sure.

Ooooooooh Morocco. An adventure it was!

{Moroccan Market Life.}

{Exotic fruit juice. Standard}

{The Souk district. Good thing we view “getting lost” as a part of the adventure.}

{Constantly being involuntarily led by little boys trying to earn a Dirham – or 20 – to “show you way to Big Square”}

{Sometimes you find yourself on a Moroccan dark alley at night. Finding your way back to the Riad. Not recommended.}

Spain-isms.

On the street.

{the north of Spain is famous for bars that serve "vino de coco" from this bottle. drink directly from the spout, and pass it around the group.}

{cerrado por descanso : closed for rest. welcome to spain.}

barTHElona magic.

"Suppose one were to make a copy of Las Meninas, if it were I, the moment would come when I would say to myself: suppose I moved this figure a little to the right or a little to the left? If the case arose, I would do it my own way, forgetting Velazquez. Almost certainly I would be tempted to modify the light or arrange it differently in view of the changed positions of the figures. Gradually I would create a painting of Las Meninas sure to horrify the specialist in the copying of old masters; it would not be the one he would have thought he saw in Velasquez's canvas, it would be my Las Meninas." - P.R.Picasso.

Picasso Museum. Barcelona.

Lovely weekend.