tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50081201859215437622024-03-21T14:59:33.736-07:00Laura en EspañaMy account of my year exchange to Spainlaura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-43474315684147023542011-12-12T23:14:00.000-08:002011-12-11T19:15:27.057-08:00Oh, Spain...Today is a day that I miss Spain. Perhaps not Spain, but Spanish. Or, perhaps, my Spanish friends. Or even just the experience of being overseas. There are so many aspects of exchange that no one ever really explains to you, or that you truly don't understand until you are in that particular moment. Exchange was so much more than just going to another country and going to school. It was and still is a life changing experience, that has taught me so much about myself, life, God, and the world that he created. <br /><br />I can't believe that it's been so long since I left Spain. I had coffee with one of my friends today, and we were talking about coffee, and I started remembering a cafe that I used to go to, that would give you a free croissant with every coffee... It was such a fond memory, and I just started crying. There are moments where I just forget how much I love Spain. It truly was the small moments that made Spain the Spain that I love.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2d5Y5AWW8AVe7eyUTExipdrDK6b7omZ2hGgt9JDCj7H0zXxEQzNjhUhyphenhyphenPy2hRURiwOvpgx631WnBtZ6V8rdZbrU2a021B3_FxDllv9Z6omIUloW4RlY9-8_a_zKxbGolNpesvLMhxjok/s1600/Foto0148.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2d5Y5AWW8AVe7eyUTExipdrDK6b7omZ2hGgt9JDCj7H0zXxEQzNjhUhyphenhyphenPy2hRURiwOvpgx631WnBtZ6V8rdZbrU2a021B3_FxDllv9Z6omIUloW4RlY9-8_a_zKxbGolNpesvLMhxjok/s320/Foto0148.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685068339484957474" /></a><br /><br />I was at work the other day, when I served a customer who was planning a trip to Spain. It got me so excited, and we were able to talk about where she was going to go, what she was going to visit, and her expectations for her trip. It got me thinking of my Spain, of my memories of the country that has gently shaped and molded who I am. I have forgotten so much of Spain. So many little things, that used to be so normal, I have to think hard to remember. Driving home today I remembered that in Spain there are no 40 km/h School Zones. When I was in Spain, that was completely normal. Today I found it unusual. I can't believe that I have reached a point where I am beginning to forget aspects of Spain, where the Spanish way is beginning to feel foreign, when, a year ago, I felt like a Spaniard. I miss it. I honestly miss it. I had the most challenging year when I was in Spain. I had a challenging host-family situation, that made me grow up in many aspects, and meant that I had to learn how to be my own best friend. Exchange wasn't an easy thing. I was looking at my diary, from it's entry a year ago today, and it said (translated to English):<br /><br />"I want to say, 'Enough. Enough already.. I'm going now." Sometimes, I want to go to Di's house, or go to Jordan and stay there till February. But, as I say this, I know that I'm not going to leave. I'm not going to give up. I hope that by the time I come back to Australia, I'll look at who I am and be content with that. When I think of all the things to do, my body sits up a little straighter, I feel a little lighter... Sometimes life throws things into our lives - somethings by our own consequence, some things that we didn't plan at all. But I so pray that I will be able to take the life God has given me, and do something worthwhile with it."<br /><br />Although it was difficult, it was unbelievably fantastic. I was able to see and experience so much. I got to spend an hour today talking about all of the things that I loved about Spain. About walking to school and seeing Moncayo, the snow capped mountain in the distance. Driving to France through the Pyrenees Mountains, covered in snow. Traveling to Burgos, Leon, Santiago de Compostela, hearing the different languages, experiencing the Basque culture. All of the coffees, my friendship with the owner of one of the cafes. Ordering a cappuccino and instead getting a shot of coffee and whipped cream. Walking the winter streets, smelling the roasted chestnuts being sold on ever street corner. The timed pedestrian lights. Walking everywhere, everyday. Watching the flamenco. Speaking Spanish. Eating Spanish food. Having Spanish friends. Walking to the Jesus statue in Tudela, and being able to see the whole town, beautiful in its architecture and culture. The funny bins. The bread, oh, the bread. Buying Javier little presents. The pipas. The lolly stores. The cobble-stoned streets. That I lived in a town over a thousand years old. The bridge crossing Tudela, and the history it held. Seeing original Goya artworks everywhere, and finding it normal. Traveling around Europe, discovering the smallest and biggest things about those places and about myself. Spanish friends. Coffee with my Spanish friends. Taking an hour over delicious ice cream to learn how to say 'I laughed at them' and 'They laughed at me'. Coming back to school after the summer, surprising everyone with my ability to speak Spanish. Watching Spanish movies. Going to the movies on a Monday, eating Burger King, and then stuffing ourselves with lollies, and spending an hour to walk home, because it was so windy. Oh, the wind, how I miss how windy Tudela was. Tudela was incredibly windy, all the time. I miss walking everywhere, rain, hail or shine. Reading Harry Potter in Spanish. I miss it. I miss it all so incredibly much.<br /><br />It was at about this time last year, that my Spanish had really reached a point where I was confident in my speaking skills. I entered into November with the confidence and ability to speak and communicate easily... my thoughts were so easily and comfortably always in Spanish. November was when my Spanish dreams became nightly, where I began to tell Spanish jokes. December was a month in which I finally felt like I was Spanish. Everyone says that it is during the last couple of months that your exchange experience is heightened, because your language skills have finally arrived, and they were so spot on. My friendships really blossomed, and I felt... at home. <br /><br />Today I miss Spain. And I think a part of me will always miss Spain. But that's ok. Because I will always carry a bit of Spain with me, and I know I will always be a little bit changed because of the Spain that showed me how to celebrate everything, to rejoice, and to take time to enjoy the little things. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"It is such a weird feeling, knowing that I have three months left of my exchange, which will go really quickly, and then I'll be in Australia. I am beginning to understand how little time I have left, and how I need to keep grabbing everything my exchange has to offer with both hands. Exchange is not easy, but I think I've been given an extremely incredible year. Here I am, in another country, living a culturally different life as a local, speaking a different language and gaining a second home along the way. Some days are great, where I don't have trouble speaking, where I feel like I'm progressing everyday, and other days where I feel like I haven't improved at all and that I should just pack up and give up. The excitement of the adventures, the family, the friends that await me in Australia are so alluring, that I need to tell myself often to focus on the now. On the today. On Spain, and what it has to offer. Before I came to Spain, I was petrified of the whole year aspect of the exchange. I thought that a year would mean that when I came back everyone would be gone, that everyone would forget that I existed... that if I left, I wouldn't come back to the same Australia. I can't say that nothing has changed and that it'll be like I never left, because I don't know that yet. I don't know what going back will be like. All I know, is that there was no reason to be petrified. There is no reason not to go for the year. I will have Australia for many more years to come (I hope!), but I will only ever have Spain, this experience, this time of my life once. That is a blessing that I still don't comprehend. This year has been the perfect year for me, filled with so many good times, so many challenges, so many events that have made me grow up a little. So many times where I've realised how much I need God in my life, how I need to follow Him, and celebrate the life He has given me. Life here in Spain has shown me a new type of celebration, a new type of joy, a celebration that is as old as this country, a joy that is as strong as its people. A joy that I pray I've been able to bring into my life, so that when I come home in February, I'll be able to have a little bit of Spain and the people I love dearly with me. There is a warmth here, that I love. A passion for life, a sense of 'eat now, work later', that both infuriates me and makes me laugh. Spain is filled with contradictions. Spain makes me angry, frustrated, but also content and joyous. Australia will, hopefully, be seen with news eyes. Eyes that have come from a country that celebrates everything, enjoys everything, that loves everything, that is passionate. I hope I will be able to see Australia with these things in mind.<br /><br />Sometimes I wish I could bring Tudela back to Australia. It would make things so much easier."</span>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-65153047656464487232011-06-15T03:23:00.000-07:002011-06-15T04:14:10.529-07:00Holidays.<span style="font-style:italic;">"I cannot go to school today"<br />Said little Peggy Ann McKay.<br />"I have the measles and the mumps,<br />A gash, a rash and purple bumps.<br /><br />My mouth is wet, my throat is dry.<br />I'm going blind in my right eye.<br />My tonsils are as big as rocks,<br />I've counted sixteen chicken pox.<br /><br />And there's one more - that's seventeen,<br />And don't you think my face looks green?<br />My leg is cut, my eyes are blue,<br />It might be the instamatic flu.<br /><br />I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,<br />I'm sure that my left leg is broke.<br />My hip hurts when I move my chin,<br />My belly button's caving in.<br /><br />My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,<br />My 'pendix pains each time it rains.<br />My toes are cold, my toes are numb,<br /><br />I have a sliver in my thumb.<br /><br />My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,<br />I hardly whisper when I speak.<br />My tongue is filling up my mouth,<br /><br />I think my hair is falling out.<br /><br />My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,<br />My temperature is one-o-eight.<br />My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,<br /><br />There's a hole inside my ear.<br /><br />I have a hangnail, and my heart is ...<br />What? What's that? What's that you say?<br />You say today is .............. Saturday?<br /><br />G'bye, I'm going out to play!"</span><br /><br />-Shel Silverstein-<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn-n1L1F6ZhunrdlN_q6Fu1Bmga4s4hfSFRV4btYwCvPvxycCnapwp2YZx27_mfNxpQbsb-lXl-shsMMl49uerFDq8SZNEU-rsuoUuT5I_kz3nV1oDM0JsYuJp1u8JfA3AVwhmAAUGdp4/s1600/DSCN2768.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn-n1L1F6ZhunrdlN_q6Fu1Bmga4s4hfSFRV4btYwCvPvxycCnapwp2YZx27_mfNxpQbsb-lXl-shsMMl49uerFDq8SZNEU-rsuoUuT5I_kz3nV1oDM0JsYuJp1u8JfA3AVwhmAAUGdp4/s320/DSCN2768.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618392972125887570" /></a><br /><br />I feel a little bit like this poem. These past couple of weeks I've had 'holidays', a two week waiting period for my end of semester exam. These past couple of days, I've been trying to use every possibly reason to get out of studying, out of having to knuckle down and get my work down, purely because it's work. But, I did knuckle down, I did study, and I did do the exam! Which means that I now have people telling me that today is Saturday; I can now go out and play! Nothing holding me back! No commitments, no work to do, nothing! I'm a free woman! But now that I've been given this enormous amount of holidays and freedom I feel a little bit out of my depth. What am I supposed to fill it with? How can I be productive and enjoy my holidays? <br /><br />So, my bucket list for my holidays:<br /><br />explore somewhere entirely new!<br />go to Windsor and find a cute coffee shop<br />go to Ikea<br />create something new every week<br />bake!<br />paint a painting<br />send letters to my friends<br />go on coffee dates with some of my favourite people<br />write in my journal more<br />walk bridge to bridge along Nepean River<br />take a polaroid<br />keep my birthday plant alive<br />go on a holiday somewhere grand!<br />ride a horse<br />get back into running<br /><br />Lets see how far along I get!laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-89821181118882306732011-06-12T21:34:00.001-07:002011-06-12T23:05:28.464-07:00Coffee Goodness.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3pDt1VbDYB7j0kfYVWcEsAhcCO6gZNNYhj-H-rfJByw9vD0vnPU-s_bIx-GaeHY_iuCPuFrmJm0KZWx_s1guIWmcyOxsi_nftkXwQGxrmx7yoim4oAYC7JxJm7LjPlxRV8FNH87S0aXw/s1600/IMG_0696.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3pDt1VbDYB7j0kfYVWcEsAhcCO6gZNNYhj-H-rfJByw9vD0vnPU-s_bIx-GaeHY_iuCPuFrmJm0KZWx_s1guIWmcyOxsi_nftkXwQGxrmx7yoim4oAYC7JxJm7LjPlxRV8FNH87S0aXw/s320/IMG_0696.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617579198589492098" /></a>
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<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPqXGr215gKoi54fUbH7vmfYCSB173eJRdNasK0ipqLkNM8iNlznO0nP7VhpqI41X35Ph0M9M6wvEkG0My7FTLiy7XV_H_BEAAlkwnSs3U06filB5XvaeBsQpLHusd2iQvOGdIXOSwxvI/s1600/IMG_0694.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size: medium; ">"I live in two worlds. One is a world of books. I've been a resident of Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha County, hunted the white whale aboard the Pequod, fought alongside Napoleon, sailed a raft with Huck and Jim, committed absurdities with Ignatius J. Reilly, rode a sad train with Anna Karenina, and strolled down Swann's Way. It's a rewarding world, but my second one is by far superior. My second one is populated with characters slightly less eccentric but supremely real, made of flesh and bone, full of love, who are my ultimate inspiration for everything."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; ">
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; ">- </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">Rory Gilmore, from Gilmore Girls</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); font-size: 16px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPqXGr215gKoi54fUbH7vmfYCSB173eJRdNasK0ipqLkNM8iNlznO0nP7VhpqI41X35Ph0M9M6wvEkG0My7FTLiy7XV_H_BEAAlkwnSs3U06filB5XvaeBsQpLHusd2iQvOGdIXOSwxvI/s320/IMG_0694.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617579195295732050" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Time with Pip over some herbal tea.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; ">
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbMYcSuV0UFq3bHJbKGXSyLPqZvJwhl1stz3gvhJKQqzR7_8hiGYkK_XuOckbmNZmXa1F8bw0XbYqSbR7Qw-B20neMEpedmoAnAvIoE6gPXoNtbPfYcHOY6x_iSkNbywndae13IjO0PBU/s320/DSCN2905.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617578497272810898" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; ">Laughter.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">I love Gilmore Girls. Today, I watched an episode from season 4, and it was the exact episode that first got me hooked. Mum used to run a program called Shine for teenage girls, and once they had a sleepover at our place, and that night, they watched a lot of Gilmore Girls. This was about four years ago, and I had heard of Gilmore Girls, but hadn't ever really seen it. In this episode, Lorelai and Rory take part in a 'Living Pictures' event, dressing up as famous artworks, and Sookie gets ready to have her baby. I couldn't help but sit there and grin, falling in love with the characters more and more. The town, the people, the atmosphere, are all reasons why I love this show so much. The two main characters, Lorelai and Rory are mother and daughter, and have an incredibly strong bond, like best friends. I remember seeing that, their relationship, and feeling all warm and gooey on the inside. I am really close to my Mum. She is my Mum, but she is also my friend, and I so treasure the times we spend together. When I was first introduced into Gilmore Girls, I didn't like coffee. But, seeing how Lorelai and Rory bonded over coffee, I wanted to get into it. I started with Caramelattes (double shot of the caramel!) and worked my way to flat whites. I love coffee now. I love the taste, the texture, the smell, the way it warms me up. But most of all, I love the way it brings people together. I love what a good cup of coffee and a good conversation can do! I love getting a coffee, sitting opposite someone and hearing about their day, their struggles, their triumphs. I love connecting with people, and I love that coffee is a way to do that. And I have Gilmore Girls to thank for that. I love that Gilmore Girls is such a down-to-earth show, that doesn't deal with unrealistic plots, but lets us enter Stars Hollow, and become a towns person; attend Taylor's town meetings, Miss Patty's dance shows, see the different professions Kirk takes up, have blueberry pancakes at Luke's diner, and see Lorelai's and Rory's relationship grow and develop. Like the quote says, that world of Gilmore Girls is a rewarding one for me; it makes me feel warm and fuzzy and cheers me up in just the way that I need it. But what is far more rewarding, is my own life; my own Lorelai, my own Kirks, Miss Pattys, Babettes, Lanes, Jess', Lukes. My own Stars Hollow and my own family and friends. I feel so incredibly blessed to be placed in the Blue Mountains, with Glenbrook as my home town. I feel so excited that I have such amazing friends that make me laugh. I love my family, that although we may not always be together, we still have an incredible bond, and love to spend time together. I am now on holidays! Seven weeks of holidays. And I so hope that these coming weeks will be filled with loveliness, coffee, bonding, and fun, as I embrace my own Stars Hollow that I am lucky enough to live in. Thank you, my friends and family, for being my inspiration and happiness in life.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">
<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "><meta charset="utf-8">Last week, my two best friends, Ape and Min, and I had a Gilmore Girls day of eating out, and more eating, and coffee. It was the most lovely day, filled with music, love, reminiscing and bonding.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; ">
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<br /></span></div>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-71288957779542120382011-05-31T02:50:00.000-07:002011-05-31T04:14:44.902-07:00Back into it..Tucked away in my drafts I have an incredibly long and detailed blog post about post-Spain. I kept putting it off though. Kept putting off the facing of those emotions I seem to try and hide from, that make me miss Spain, that make me yearn for Spain and Spanish-isms.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFgHrsWMkO_sRCyYy8udPjNw7-ZkdcO6GXbz5668U8rOP39q1a-Nl8EZ7GJ9fE_xJl_HxSvFLeZtMI_DlhwgezNa2c_o9wAo4gqmpoyTi2wqtk6tyCA7CIseuA3TqFBsvAxe1ZkL8aoe8/s1600/DSCN2375.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFgHrsWMkO_sRCyYy8udPjNw7-ZkdcO6GXbz5668U8rOP39q1a-Nl8EZ7GJ9fE_xJl_HxSvFLeZtMI_DlhwgezNa2c_o9wAo4gqmpoyTi2wqtk6tyCA7CIseuA3TqFBsvAxe1ZkL8aoe8/s320/DSCN2375.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612833336549638626" border="0" /></a>Me and my brothers and sisters.<br /><br /></div>But, I miss writing. I miss sharing my life with people, whether that be my exchange year, or my post-exchange year. Both to me are equally exciting!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5emysq60vX_-xz94Xg8RhHs8zB9gnE60DQ7X699jYB9vwH7l-zo3yrTo1HlBLp88R2Pns4ecceT44tlFR1RS00W8qz7MT59hK1quTU0n4R1j8ZIO0TeXv5hWIRQuIaSHY6VKXCo_OV6c/s1600/DSC_1111.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5emysq60vX_-xz94Xg8RhHs8zB9gnE60DQ7X699jYB9vwH7l-zo3yrTo1HlBLp88R2Pns4ecceT44tlFR1RS00W8qz7MT59hK1quTU0n4R1j8ZIO0TeXv5hWIRQuIaSHY6VKXCo_OV6c/s320/DSC_1111.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612833325450603538" border="0" /></a>Mount Wilson during Autumn.<br /></div><br />So, perhaps one day, I'll re-read that post, that describes coming back to Australia, trying to get accustomed back into life. Perhaps I'll sit down, take a deep breath, have a box of tissues close and finish it. But for now, I think I'll start with now, with today, and the adventures I am faced with back in Australia!<br /><br />It is now almost four months since I've been back in Australia. My life is a continual reflection back on Spain... "I wonder what I was up to today a year ago." I have returned to Australia, yet a big part of my heart and self has been left behind in Spain. But, again, in saying that... I am Australian. I am right where I am meant to be. I look around me, at the bush, at the Blue Mountains, at where God has placed me, and I know deep down that this is truly my home. I have been so truly blessed with these four months since I've been home. I can say that I have finally settled down, I've joined a new church, I am studying Spanish at uni, attending a Spanish church on the weekend, and am incredibly blessed with the friends and family that surround me.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rafhnc1SYv3GezSkB-V2sVRvjYgTOEM1g1mOnu1xJm65FF1MU6ezS71wOZMfMsgKRT7S7WZkYahbLhZd-KVrRMihSC_M1jCraubUfLELaMD_RSy_ctRazAeSNSoPBIhKNqsfx58YDtQ/s1600/DSC_1127.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rafhnc1SYv3GezSkB-V2sVRvjYgTOEM1g1mOnu1xJm65FF1MU6ezS71wOZMfMsgKRT7S7WZkYahbLhZd-KVrRMihSC_M1jCraubUfLELaMD_RSy_ctRazAeSNSoPBIhKNqsfx58YDtQ/s320/DSC_1127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612833327542901282" border="0" /></a>Dad and I in Mount Wilson.<br /></div><br />Being back in Australia is so completely different! At one end of the spectrum, I'm used to travelling overseas by myself, without any permission, and now I have to ask permission to use the car to drive to Blaxland, the next suburb. But on the other end, here I am, sitting in the living room by myself, eating homemade pizza, with a glass of wine, whilst my best friend is working on her assessments because she's living in our house for a month whilst my parents are traveling overseas. I am now once again an only child (in the sense that I'm the only child living at home) instead of being the eldest of a 7, 12, and 13 year old. Life is different. Not better, not worse, just different.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisxWvaEjT-ysY8Vs7fHYIiWfosRB6IsPDYuben4XlbUNgElInRh3axYu80tzMh5_5UDpHpi2oxW1isrk3ASE0DQBT2YjZT49E5sHNIw6UZbtfwTuGMjSHnt0WCET_zbTZFx4BAPmmQDto/s1600/DSCN2303.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisxWvaEjT-ysY8Vs7fHYIiWfosRB6IsPDYuben4XlbUNgElInRh3axYu80tzMh5_5UDpHpi2oxW1isrk3ASE0DQBT2YjZT49E5sHNIw6UZbtfwTuGMjSHnt0WCET_zbTZFx4BAPmmQDto/s320/DSCN2303.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612833332876704050" border="0" /></a>Min and I at a lookout in Yellow Rock.<br /></div><br />I still can't get over the animals in Australia. We had this giant spider in the house the other week, and Mum barely blinked as she got a container and captured it. We have a possum who forever runs up and down our veranda. We went bushwalking and saw a blue tongue lizard. We had a big saga about a missing possum trap. These things sound oh so foreign to me, even though I grew up in Australia. In Spain we barely had bugs... let alone unique animals!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLHZzzieacB-NVWSO707nAJXEfGj6uys3iyuB9NL0wfgdYAQwv2YuXfoWUbGfS-nS8RSQ6ABGcwMzMdyzWuOEC8Da0eYz5ps_z0euKa4Mro4E3WtsOlW3Szvl4ceHEPJXjkHI4D51-RQQ/s1600/IMG_0280.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLHZzzieacB-NVWSO707nAJXEfGj6uys3iyuB9NL0wfgdYAQwv2YuXfoWUbGfS-nS8RSQ6ABGcwMzMdyzWuOEC8Da0eYz5ps_z0euKa4Mro4E3WtsOlW3Szvl4ceHEPJXjkHI4D51-RQQ/s320/IMG_0280.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612834520401288594" border="0" /></a>The Giant Spider.<br /></div><br />I am one of those people that are lucky enough to be passionate about what they study. Part of my course at uni is Spanish. In my first week, I was placed into second year Spanish, and almost cried with the easiness of it. To me, to hear Spanish is to hear English. It sounds exactly the same, they're both as easy to understand as the other. In the intermediate course, it was like being taught as if I was five years old. I was devastated, thinking that I would spend three years studying a language that I already knew, as if I was a beginner. However, after speaking to the lecturer, and sending through some emails, I was placed in the advanced course (third year Spanish) and I am absolutely loving it. Twice a week I get to listen to hours of Spanish, write Spanish, speak Spanish, and even better: learn more about Spanish. I find such joy in Spanish. Those small hours a week make me feel like I'm back in Spain, wondering through the streets, experiencing the culture once again. I cannot wait for next year, when I start to learn about translating, and start to look at cultural studies rather than just the grammar. Studying Spanish makes me happy, it's my passion, and I am so thankful that I continue to have Spanish as a weekly part of my life.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjgtLLb6AJlTqejUKswBG4ZrWhY3sxr_ob4zjF8PYE9yJIYBvuXl2bDuUfmfBTYcndGl86m0OfgWv3y8fqcmQ-KInclkWzKSfJ4WuK08a7BOkujMrlY9dyEWwZJmsf0zJbONwe-FUGvc/s1600/DSCN2453.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjgtLLb6AJlTqejUKswBG4ZrWhY3sxr_ob4zjF8PYE9yJIYBvuXl2bDuUfmfBTYcndGl86m0OfgWv3y8fqcmQ-KInclkWzKSfJ4WuK08a7BOkujMrlY9dyEWwZJmsf0zJbONwe-FUGvc/s320/DSCN2453.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612833344118448450" border="0" /></a>Mum and I at Woy Woy<br /></div><br />I am loving rediscovering my life back here in Australia. I have started to attend a new church, Blue Mountains City Church, which has been so exciting. I have been so challenged in my walk with God, challenged by the idea of who a living, breathing Christian is, and what that means for my life. I have loved getting to know a new set of people, of getting to share my Spain with them, and for them to introduce me into their lives. The friends that I've made there are incredible, and I know that they are very special people that God has been using to direct my life in the way He wants. Church is such a highlight of my week, and I'm loving being excited about it! As well as my new church, I have also been going to a Spanish church in Merrylands. I often get to take a friend with me as well, and it is so warming to share Spanish, and a little piece of Spain. Something I find challenging is that although I'm back in Australia, my Spanish life is still very much a part of me. I now like strong coffees, I like olives. I enjoy an occasional sleep in. I have phrases that still come to me first in Spanish, second in English. But people get sick of the stories, become disinterested, or just don't understand. To be able to introduce a non-Spanish person into my 'Spanish life', just a little bit, through Spanish church is an unbelievable gift to have. It also means I get to be surrounded by Spanish people, their infectious liveliness, laughter and passion (as well as their <span style="font-style: italic;">dos besos</span> - two kisses).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqdAwI3PEKUOuVKUmHl7Qc8FWqB2WUEdRqZObo_VQWr_L46nwKMWGLLf1R8OTQll7sAsaVu99ZcEO45BJZeKFRdJkls8KW4VezYE_3Fk7-zD7kkyldEW3WA2hbhkD2IMwM4HJ3GXk0a2A/s1600/DSCN2631.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqdAwI3PEKUOuVKUmHl7Qc8FWqB2WUEdRqZObo_VQWr_L46nwKMWGLLf1R8OTQll7sAsaVu99ZcEO45BJZeKFRdJkls8KW4VezYE_3Fk7-zD7kkyldEW3WA2hbhkD2IMwM4HJ3GXk0a2A/s320/DSCN2631.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612834514352798066" border="0" /></a>Sydney Harbour<br /></div><br />Coming back to the Blue Mountains was a little bit of a shock! Bare feet! Finally! Greenery! The piano! My own bed! Bonnie! Weak coffee (ugh)! Hot weather! It was all so different, yet so similar. There are sometimes where I still get a shock about something new that I have remembered about Australian culture. I still find it so awkward to meet new people. All I can think of is, "What do I do?! Do I give them two kisses? Do I shake hands? Do I hug?" And then I just end up standing there awkardly and wave. But all a part of the experience! I have so loved going into the city, catching a ferry and seeing where it takes me. I've loved taking people to my favourite places in the Blue Mountains, revisit the places that I used to go to all the time. Life is continually changing. So many people have gone through huge transitions while I've been away; some have become engaged, others moved to the city, started uni, gotten full time jobs. We have all changed in some way or other, and it's been nice to be able to share the changes with other people.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7DuWZAV2NtVLUVPwmL8YYvhf3rhmTU7De_hCpaXukPrEja_SqXZ09IYB0uCriyzPuA-3TWgZp_q05pcRerDrjmj5Mr1162fM8u4wjsKWiJLvoBXRpeFNhrnz9Iw0ZktFBgIdToIEGC60/s1600/DSCN2768.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7DuWZAV2NtVLUVPwmL8YYvhf3rhmTU7De_hCpaXukPrEja_SqXZ09IYB0uCriyzPuA-3TWgZp_q05pcRerDrjmj5Mr1162fM8u4wjsKWiJLvoBXRpeFNhrnz9Iw0ZktFBgIdToIEGC60/s320/DSCN2768.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612834516674782914" border="0" /></a>Me with the Three Sisters, in Katoomba.<br /><br /></div>But it isn't always easy. Sometimes I get homesick for Spain. I can remember, about six weeks ago, I was looking through old photos, looking back on all of the good memories with my host family, with my Spanish friends, with my travels. I just felt like my heart was breaking. So I just sat there and cried. And not just cried, but sobbed. I felt like I was going to break in two. I think I sat there for hours, at the table, crying onto my computer as I listened to Spanish songs, looked at photos and thought to myself, "When will the pain end? When will it be ok to think about Spain and not miss it so much?" This is one part of exchange that is so difficult to share with other people. Not many people know what it is like to live on your own for a year, in a different culture, with a different language and different family, and then to return. My family lived in England for three years, so they could understand to a certain extent. But when they went to England, they were with their family, and when we returned, we came back as a family, to family. I left my second family in Spain. There are times where I feel myself come apart when I can't remember a word in Spanish, or when a phrase I thought of in Spanish comes first in English. When my Spanish-isms leave me for Australianisms, I feel lost. I miss Spain. I miss being Spanish. It's still something that I struggle with. Something that I still pray about. But I'm here in Australia, and I love being here. I love being surrounded by the community around me, by the people who make my life happy and special. And, life isn't meant to be easy! Having the pain I feel for Spain just makes me realise what a big part it was and is to me. It gets easier though. Every day I am in Glenbrook, in the Blue Mountains I am reaffirmed that this is where I'm meant to be. I have been so incredibly blessed with where God has placed me, with the people He has placed in my life, and the people I've gotten to know over this four month period.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7RILfa0lvrUfmJ-9LZm95ArInRXfqx1cM4z3c_LlYjJ7-7bOJB0Yvf4qsXrEs77eC92IK-937Ht_65HhYJufGkXntg8qz5s0s2TY2ZSbu3AiR4qGcZc5uJlZ_C1IUBoN0RlIW5p8qpo/s1600/IMG_0120.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7RILfa0lvrUfmJ-9LZm95ArInRXfqx1cM4z3c_LlYjJ7-7bOJB0Yvf4qsXrEs77eC92IK-937Ht_65HhYJufGkXntg8qz5s0s2TY2ZSbu3AiR4qGcZc5uJlZ_C1IUBoN0RlIW5p8qpo/s320/IMG_0120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612834519944253746" border="0" /></a>Sydney Harbour from a ferry.<br /></div><br />Mum told me she was worried that I'd be bored when I got back to Australia. But she couldn't be more wrong. I'm having the time of my life, and cannot wait to see the adventures God has in store for me in the coming months and years!<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzYrzUcnhVep2aF_CcwREI_rTmZPmCuiQIRSHsoFvyfCaMVSJBHKKwD7dF26hGwbpoWyzyWLMNn3M3Onv_0fDnnZeb6k0pfwPFKAlOrCmLi9ONiuCTruL1-xx9ju5fSZ1IiDGGvoQISdc/s1600/IMG_0220.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzYrzUcnhVep2aF_CcwREI_rTmZPmCuiQIRSHsoFvyfCaMVSJBHKKwD7dF26hGwbpoWyzyWLMNn3M3Onv_0fDnnZeb6k0pfwPFKAlOrCmLi9ONiuCTruL1-xx9ju5fSZ1IiDGGvoQISdc/s320/IMG_0220.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612834531376983362" border="0" /></a>Dad and I at a wedding.<br /></div><br />The rest of this post are just photos of some of the things I've been up to, and that have made my life a little more interesting since my return to Australia! Enjoy!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpii6J8Vsn_0YyiJO8W_4gYdLxBTydFGNkHCo7b1rVXaAoe7dzII9OwuIxVOiKIp7zQOzxiSuLy4TYBfrUVIxYCVe0E-cI69C7g1CUNtiS-Qt_6DUOlO19O-FCGOxynl06Q3unCP6W_Vo/s1600/IMG_0143.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpii6J8Vsn_0YyiJO8W_4gYdLxBTydFGNkHCo7b1rVXaAoe7dzII9OwuIxVOiKIp7zQOzxiSuLy4TYBfrUVIxYCVe0E-cI69C7g1CUNtiS-Qt_6DUOlO19O-FCGOxynl06Q3unCP6W_Vo/s320/IMG_0143.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612835195043600162" border="0" /></a>Lunch with Dad.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxHtJZbbk-UW24tsSI-EyHCS8C7Fcx5fx7jov41MNU4S5-aHHANYeMPbEHupTTD_Ld9oJKJpYHsypjMcO2vBH0I6sE-1GpIiXJsTmznb_j6lGLrBbM34V3dpvkZg4PXoWmacUz4OICOw/s1600/IMG_0298.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxHtJZbbk-UW24tsSI-EyHCS8C7Fcx5fx7jov41MNU4S5-aHHANYeMPbEHupTTD_Ld9oJKJpYHsypjMcO2vBH0I6sE-1GpIiXJsTmznb_j6lGLrBbM34V3dpvkZg4PXoWmacUz4OICOw/s320/IMG_0298.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612835195216678610" border="0" /></a>Dress-ups with Sarah.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1XMZkrgQymh1j9D1nZDz8PHEGNXG6aEstXYeavz-BRlHUq3ON0-zpt0lIg6YSJ1mqD1N_mgKANx5OKXFbH74d7UNBGunbWfvrbqFPMK9R6ZfKcExPFexmrAVWH479vqtnjKFCXOhCy-g/s1600/IMG_0007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1XMZkrgQymh1j9D1nZDz8PHEGNXG6aEstXYeavz-BRlHUq3ON0-zpt0lIg6YSJ1mqD1N_mgKANx5OKXFbH74d7UNBGunbWfvrbqFPMK9R6ZfKcExPFexmrAVWH479vqtnjKFCXOhCy-g/s320/IMG_0007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612835207340319266" border="0" /></a>Cousinly love :)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdhQ5uEwliK28d-KOciMAkiNjykNh_HQXzO9zwdis4Jr-aiNYaOEWv7z7TCBANB_uqfFdlMJbM44KqjbAiIGRl2xXgvINZqkSc7216yA5y8-XIMoKEeX72CS170rYFRb_lV2NO8u_bjmQ/s1600/IMG_0300.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdhQ5uEwliK28d-KOciMAkiNjykNh_HQXzO9zwdis4Jr-aiNYaOEWv7z7TCBANB_uqfFdlMJbM44KqjbAiIGRl2xXgvINZqkSc7216yA5y8-XIMoKEeX72CS170rYFRb_lV2NO8u_bjmQ/s320/IMG_0300.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612835213377228130" border="0" /></a>Coleman's musical fun after church.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2NwnWistn_Z-KH6BEoCsVZxJk95wXNCm3lQBY3yPeWOZdkCThlZ0ugEHI8aZiKb6ZO2wwuaMd-bgN2Z1ssA02_sPpd0rXA_9dDB01FTiy_5WDYvpJ9GSg_rME6ySbId-wbRgnBkXxfY0/s1600/IMG_0350.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2NwnWistn_Z-KH6BEoCsVZxJk95wXNCm3lQBY3yPeWOZdkCThlZ0ugEHI8aZiKb6ZO2wwuaMd-bgN2Z1ssA02_sPpd0rXA_9dDB01FTiy_5WDYvpJ9GSg_rME6ySbId-wbRgnBkXxfY0/s320/IMG_0350.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612835219316858642" border="0" /></a>Geocaching with Uncle Bruce!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNn6ynBt0xgFJcFMWBtyONSbfa7Bd1ccnPCyYdfdrVU5hX6q4cshyCD6VUcbuuQwCuSaKmiE3hD1dDvROYwU2F0eGBND5U616rcVekuNO8rQ1H-zLwvYgA15kS241gGP8wn7V-bpHVOlg/s1600/IMG_0371.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNn6ynBt0xgFJcFMWBtyONSbfa7Bd1ccnPCyYdfdrVU5hX6q4cshyCD6VUcbuuQwCuSaKmiE3hD1dDvROYwU2F0eGBND5U616rcVekuNO8rQ1H-zLwvYgA15kS241gGP8wn7V-bpHVOlg/s320/IMG_0371.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612835736751078930" border="0" /></a>Tea at the Jazz Apple.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq9yqCIwiO3AKgpjPoK38g6WlcxjNZq10gnjDkvcKHAnuBHedOq22BUo4IIKj6EK7sRN4l4gMDel_Y5n7DXWQGmulhmbv6stppqHTKyfBgFSHLB0a3v91SdPIibS1rNM9lI3Ltw4J5TmA/s1600/IMG_0078.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq9yqCIwiO3AKgpjPoK38g6WlcxjNZq10gnjDkvcKHAnuBHedOq22BUo4IIKj6EK7sRN4l4gMDel_Y5n7DXWQGmulhmbv6stppqHTKyfBgFSHLB0a3v91SdPIibS1rNM9lI3Ltw4J5TmA/s320/IMG_0078.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612835740525333570" border="0" /></a>Uncle Geoff's 50th Birthday party.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT2Whf_SHnFEciUL8NvUWQCFcDzPir5eTJCy606bNL04HfisK-rci5GEBk-U3RiiEsjct-gzxatUNMS4aZaaK76rn13v4PcMDrNeOZbwiCfltO6c7SA-GkppgBdhKr_wZ86hI_xUCZF3k/s1600/IMG_0374.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT2Whf_SHnFEciUL8NvUWQCFcDzPir5eTJCy606bNL04HfisK-rci5GEBk-U3RiiEsjct-gzxatUNMS4aZaaK76rn13v4PcMDrNeOZbwiCfltO6c7SA-GkppgBdhKr_wZ86hI_xUCZF3k/s320/IMG_0374.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612835747820574898" border="0" /></a>City fun with Tarn.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5EeKTRqDXN3rqn-2O_RrTWV2KDByGVssYG7g3PN1VuNISLopPDgOzBuAdm3ouW4HC6zVx_JnqhezqLGo7QZ2dA30RJs3jZALummwPveTA96nYixRq6ffU07xk4FTqCW5wxQsi5Q2P7EA/s1600/IMG_0497.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5EeKTRqDXN3rqn-2O_RrTWV2KDByGVssYG7g3PN1VuNISLopPDgOzBuAdm3ouW4HC6zVx_JnqhezqLGo7QZ2dA30RJs3jZALummwPveTA96nYixRq6ffU07xk4FTqCW5wxQsi5Q2P7EA/s320/IMG_0497.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612835749914095266" border="0" /></a>My favourite siblings.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-3-mm2Qh68xoY4RjCce-GWgAXApDIaW13qaf5WI773ErU6iySiZxAN404gcFJUMHkkWvvmbwOkdCNEdkormB_RPij79r6AKTzvFC787TbV3hbdlseSSPuwvjFO5V9l5PtlJDPWkepC_A/s1600/IMG_0507.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-3-mm2Qh68xoY4RjCce-GWgAXApDIaW13qaf5WI773ErU6iySiZxAN404gcFJUMHkkWvvmbwOkdCNEdkormB_RPij79r6AKTzvFC787TbV3hbdlseSSPuwvjFO5V9l5PtlJDPWkepC_A/s320/IMG_0507.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612835753221740882" border="0" /></a>Best family out!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98SAUuOfO0vtrGg3xEkw5BAde6Xw1Ccazy57F5ReR0lbGPhIP4b-B8_B6Wa-vWnys8FkJHGpBXlMvxS_yFpF1B0tSXp66whUW1nHDrGsSE3hDvwW5WiYNeKsFf9WxbMlHxR2YdzZPjNE/s1600/IMG_0014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98SAUuOfO0vtrGg3xEkw5BAde6Xw1Ccazy57F5ReR0lbGPhIP4b-B8_B6Wa-vWnys8FkJHGpBXlMvxS_yFpF1B0tSXp66whUW1nHDrGsSE3hDvwW5WiYNeKsFf9WxbMlHxR2YdzZPjNE/s320/IMG_0014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612836789422926306" border="0" /></a>City fun with Jo and Pip.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCckfFcow-QedtZDeiBmnPNl_2m_B9L9qpS5wJwRN8I1J5G2NfPly6cRq415OF_veKVU6dJzokRaMy35-Jsrf-lDrg1GYxsnZA9-zQpFc_Eyzut0y2tRkvdnAtKDuE1gK33foqIEJgGE/s1600/DSCN2317.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCckfFcow-QedtZDeiBmnPNl_2m_B9L9qpS5wJwRN8I1J5G2NfPly6cRq415OF_veKVU6dJzokRaMy35-Jsrf-lDrg1GYxsnZA9-zQpFc_Eyzut0y2tRkvdnAtKDuE1gK33foqIEJgGE/s320/DSCN2317.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612836784645163154" border="0" /></a>Homemade breakfasts!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpZZ3mzRDYvIit1NI7CWywpbHs3xk8HmgxQDMBUohlQOjUA_oz0-wWLEhxETUtGby0UR6hw278Womb9RUouPDn_9uzIIN1PQFTb2AE2PyfwKR39So2l7daAVh6kQGkiLbApOvd8YGNDdE/s1600/IMG_0606.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpZZ3mzRDYvIit1NI7CWywpbHs3xk8HmgxQDMBUohlQOjUA_oz0-wWLEhxETUtGby0UR6hw278Womb9RUouPDn_9uzIIN1PQFTb2AE2PyfwKR39So2l7daAVh6kQGkiLbApOvd8YGNDdE/s320/IMG_0606.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612836781323459650" border="0" /></a>Autumn goodness.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwtQ7LmtXb2-o8hVB89rkCXVVRsjy758ByMdLz0KoID9OLnvyPI3LFjcYsXNyzmEGuS9a2FvgAp_xF2_Y7aV-IihRe_hNjVkR0fPtSeojmtMNs6vu47EiiG5WGqaOFKFpTLSYnD5d5TCI/s1600/IMG_0681.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwtQ7LmtXb2-o8hVB89rkCXVVRsjy758ByMdLz0KoID9OLnvyPI3LFjcYsXNyzmEGuS9a2FvgAp_xF2_Y7aV-IihRe_hNjVkR0fPtSeojmtMNs6vu47EiiG5WGqaOFKFpTLSYnD5d5TCI/s320/IMG_0681.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612836783111138914" border="0" /></a>Movie times with my bible study and favourite girls!<br /></div>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-54737980825541042752011-02-02T01:19:00.000-08:002011-02-02T02:08:52.052-08:00¡Adios España!I can remember being incredibly sad and torn about leaving Australia. I was so excited about going on exchange, about living in a new country, learning Spanish and being away for a whole year, but I also didn't want to leave my home. I didn't want to leave everything that was comfortable to me. I didn't want to leave all that I knew, and all that I loved.<br /><br />Today, a year later, I am going through those same emotions. Spain has been my home for the past year, its people, its food, its culture and customs becoming a part of who I am. Today I am leaving all of that. Today I am getting on a plane, and 27 hours later I will be getting off, in Australia, and seeing my family and friends for the first time in a year. I'm so excited, so nervous, so daunted. As much as I want to see my family, I also want to have this year span out as much as I can. A week ago I thought to myself, "I only have a week left, that's so crazy. So little time." Now, I have seven hours before my flight leaves. Time flies quickly.<br /><br />Exchange has been everything I thought it would be, and so much more. I can look back on this year, with my heart full of love and happiness. It has been far less than perfect; I have been challenged, hurt, annoyed in many situations, but they have all helped me grow, all helped me turn to God and look to him. I knew this year wouldn't be easy. And it wasn't easy. But even though there were the low parts, I have also had some of the best times of my life this year. I have been welcomed into a family, I made Spanish friends, I learnt another language, I experienced the culture of Spain at a local level. I think of Spain, and I think of the good memories, the times where my cheeks hurt from grinning too much. <br /><br />I am sad to leave Spain. Spain has become my home this past year. These past six weeks I've been travelling. But even so, returning back to Spain has made me realise, wherever I am, Spain will always be there, waiting for my return. I'll miss it so much.<br /><br />Today I looked back on my year via my Facebook statuses. I have had the most amazing year. I feel so blessed to have been given this year, with both of its ups and downs. <br /><br />Today I am saying goodbye to my year here in Spain. Just like I said goodbye to Australia. Though, this time, I don't know when I'll be back. I'll certainly be back, but I don't know when. I am saying goodbye to so many things; to Spanish bread, olive oil, olives, tortilla de patatas, to Spanish songs, Spanish fiestas, to sleeping in, to Europe, to my hometown, to the Rio Ebro, to the Jesus statue at the top of the town, the (dare I say it?) rubia! and guapa!, to Zurich, my cafe, cafe con leche, Justin Beiber (teenage host sisters!), the list goes on and on. <br /><br />This year has enriched my life so much. Although I've been away from my family and friends for a year, I've still been able to be a part of their lives, seeing all that they've accomplished (via Facebook of course!). I am so excited to come back and start my next adventure with them by my side. <br /><br />So, goodbye Spain. Thank you for the memories. Thank you for welcoming me into your heart, for showing me the wonderful country you are, and the amazing people that live here. I have had the time of my life getting to know you, and learning new things about myself as well. I will never forget you.<br /><br />I'll be back in Australia before I know it, and this year will have finished. But I will always look back on it with the fondest of memories, full of love and laughter. I thank God so much for this time away, for both the happy and hard times. <br /><br />Goodbye Spain. Hello Australia!laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-1733903045215766292011-01-24T13:17:00.000-08:002011-01-24T13:34:46.817-08:00Oh, Spain, what you do to my heart.Well, I am back in Spain.<br /><br />What a weird sentence for me to say. I´m back in Spain. I´ve spent the past year in Spain, and after only six weeks away I feel so weird to be back. I arrived from rainy Germany, in Madrid on Sunday afternoon at about seven o´clock, and walked numbly down the aisles to the exit signs, salida, to the welcome to Madrid signs, then out into the city. It didn´t feel real that I had arrived, or that I was in Spain. There was Spanish, but it just felt foreign, rather than a language, my language that I love and speak. I felt like I had arrived to the equivalent of the Gold Coast in Queensland, like I had arrived in Australia, but that I wasn´t back home in Glenbrook, the Blue Mountains, Sydney. And I guess it was ok to feel like that, because I <span style="font-style: italic;">had </span>arrived in Madrid, Spain, not Tudela, Navarra, my hometown, Spain. <br /><br />I got to the hostel that I was staying at, in a part of Madrid that I´d never been to before, cementing and confirming that feeling that I didn´t really feel like I belonged back in Spain. My reservation and payment was conducted in English, and I realised at that point what I felt like. A tourist. Not a Spaniard, like I have felt the past year, but a tourist, visiting Spain, staying in hostels. I didn´t really know how to feel about that; excited or revulted, but I decided to go with the flow. I arrived in my shared room, relaxed a little and then I met my roomate, a German girl who had just arrived in Spain, who is going to be studying in Madrid for the next four months. It was really lovely to chat with her, as she wasn´t just a tourist, but would be living, like me, in a foreign country, studying in another language. It´s been really fun to get to know her, and I´ve really enjoyed her company. She had met some people that day, so that night we went out with them, were greeted with the dos besos (two kisses) and that is when I realised that I still had ten days left in Spain. No matter how I felt; like a tourist or Spaniard, I realised that I needed to embrace my time left. It was great to just chat to her friends, who happened to be Germans teaching Spanish to the German football players in the Real Madrid team. (Cool, I know!) We went and had a beer at El Museo de Jamon, The Ham Museum, and I smiled at the fact that I felt at home. Home in a world of different people, cultures, languages. I love the fact that the Ham Museum is a bar where a beer costs one euro, and the ham costs 50. <br /><br />Walking through the city that night, I fell in love with the architecture, with the language whispering to me, all over again. <br /><br />Today I changed over my luggage (finally! I´ve been living out of the same luggage for the past five weeks meaning: two pais of jeans, four shirts and one jacket. So much variety!) and got to walk down the small streets, listen to Spanish. I felt so conflicted; blissfully happy of where I was, but also really sad of the fact that I would be leaving this country in 9 days. Malwina, the German girl and I had lunch out, and met a Colombian man who was our waiter. He was the nicest person, and so friendly, and made me love the Spanish people, the language and the culture.<br /><br />I am now sitting in the hostal, on the hostal computers about to go to bed. Tomorrow I head off to Sevilla. I´ve never been to the south of Spain, so I will be spending the next four days there. I´m really excited to see the architecture, the tapas, the flamenco, the different and exciting culture of the south. I hope to keep you posted!<br /><br />I really am amazed at how many conflicting feelings someone can feel at once. Every thing that makes me laugh or smile, also reminds me that I only have nine days left here. I just need to make sure I capture these nine days and embrace them fully. My heart is full to its seam with love for Spain, and I´m sure it will break when I have to leave. But I know that I´ll have Australia to look forward to, something that will fill my heart once more with great, great, happiness.laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-25354177877339044652011-01-23T12:18:00.000-08:002011-01-23T12:19:50.962-08:0010 days and Train Trips.<style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">I am currently on the train in Germany, on my way to Düsseldorf to catch the plane to Spain.<span style=""> </span>About a month ago I left my beloved Tudela, my wonderful home in Spain to set off on an adventure for Europe.<span style=""> </span>This month has passed incredibly quickly, and I have had the greatest time, experiencing a range of different cultures, languages and people.<span style=""> </span>It has been so nice to see people that I haven’t seen in a while, and see their homes and where they live.<span style=""> </span>I can’t believe that my last leg is coming to a close, meaning that my exchange is drawing to a close.<span style=""> </span>In ten short days I will be heading to an airport again, but this time in Madrid; heading to my home in Australia, my next new adventure. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">This week I became an official uni student.<span style=""> </span>I will be attending the University of New South Wales (UNSW) in Sydney.<span style=""> </span>I am so excited to be finally starting this new part of my education.<span style=""> </span>I will be studying a Bachelor of Arts in Development Studies and Culture Change.<span style=""> </span>UNSW is situated in Sydney; about a two hour commute from my house.<span style=""> </span>I will be catching a train and bus everyday to uni, which has been really surprising to many people in Jordan and here in Germany.<span style=""> </span>I have been staying with Benne, an old exchange student that stayed in our house in Australia in 2007.<span style=""> </span>It has been so lovely to spend the time with him and his family.<span style=""> </span>He will be starting uni like me this year, and he is planning on moving to Münster, where he will be attending university.<span style=""> </span>Münster is about a half hour or twenty-minute train ride from Emsdetten his hometown.<span style=""> </span>I would love it if I only had to travel for half an hour everyday!<span style=""> </span>Anyway, I’ll be starting university the 28<sup>th</sup> of February, and am really looking forward to it!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">I can’t believe the amount of things I’ve been able to do this year.<span style=""> </span>I have been able to see so much, and go to so many places.<span style=""> </span>I often fail to realise just how blessed I’ve been with a generous and supportive family, and the opportunities to travel.<span style=""> </span>I love travelling.<span style=""> </span>Growing up, my Dad was in the Navy, so we moved a bit; I’ve grown up in different states, and have been lucky enough to see a lot of Australia at such a young age.<span style=""> </span>Travelling has always been a big part of my life, and I feel like I have got the travel bug ingrained into me.<span style=""> </span>I am sitting in a train, in the middle of Germany, about to head off to another country.<span style=""> </span>My total hours of travelling today will be eleven hours by train, bus and plane.<span style=""> </span>To get from Jordan to Germany it took me sixteen hours.<span style=""> </span>Although they are long days, I am perfectly happy to pass the day looking at the scenery, listening to the different languages, cultures surrounding me.<span style=""> </span>I love travelling.<span style=""> </span>Because I have been travelling non-stop for the past month, it seems normal to me, that everyone must be doing it that I often forget that what I am doing, what I am seeing and experience is so special.<span style=""> </span>How many nineteen year olds get to spend a year in another country, learn the language, make another home, and spend a month travelling around Europe?<span style=""> </span>I often forget, and forget to thank God for the amazing life he has given me.<span style=""> </span>This past month has been a month of realising just how much God has blessed me, challenged me, and helped me grow this year.<span style=""> </span>I have seen so much; been to so many unique places, and I thank God so much for that.<span style=""> </span>These past nineteen years have been amazing, and I can’t wait for the next nineteen.<span style=""> </span>I am excited to see what God has in store for me. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">This week I have spent in Germany.<span style=""> </span>I have absolutely loved my time here.<span style=""> </span>Staying with the family of Benne this year has been some of my favourite times this year.<span style=""> </span>I was able to spend a week with them in December, and a week this time in January.<span style=""> </span>I arrived on Sunday night, after flying in from Jordan, and just felt at home.<span style=""> </span>I love the family of Benne.<span style=""> </span>They are such a colourful bunch, with kind hearts and wonderful smiles.<span style=""> </span>Benne’s parents are so wonderful, and so funny!<span style=""> </span>I often tell Hans, his dad that he should become a tourist guide, because he knows EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING.<span style=""> </span>He is such a funny man, and makes me think of my own Dad and how much I love Dads.<span style=""> </span>On the Monday I went to a city called Essen, a little further north (?) of Düsseldorf with Benne’s Dad as he had a meeting there.<span style=""> </span>It was nice to just walk around the city for the couple of hours that we were there and see another German city.<span style=""> </span>My favourite part though, was the drive, learning the word for traffic jam (Stau) and hearing stories of Benne’s family.<span style=""> </span>After Essen, I had lunch with Hans in Münster and just walked around the city, enjoying the buildings and the German feel of it all.<span style=""> </span>I love walking around cities with my Ipod playing; it was a really nice end to the day.<span style=""> </span>The Tuesday I spent relaxing, as I have had a pretty busy past couple of weeks, and it was really nice to just… relax.<span style=""> </span>On the Wednesday I got accepted into uni, and went to Münster to look around.<span style=""> </span>I spent most of the day by myself, as Benne works everyday until 9, his parents work and his younger sister is at school.<span style=""> </span>On Wednesday night Benne and I went to the pub to meet up with his friends, which I really enjoyed.<span style=""> </span>They were just really lovely people, and reminded me of people from home.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Emsdetten is about a two and a half hours train trip from Amsterdam in the Netherlands.<span style=""> </span>I had really wanted to visit Amsterdam for a day, and found cheap tickets (19 euros each way) to go on the Thursday.<span style=""> </span>I booked my tickets and knew that I would have about six or seven hours in the city, before having to come back to Emsdetten.<span style=""> </span>I don’t know German.<span style=""> </span>This week I have learnt a few phrases and words, but I really do not know or understand German.<span style=""> </span>At the train station, the notice board said the next train to come was the train to Amsterdam.<span style=""> </span>Little did I know that the announcement that I heard said that my train was delayed.<span style=""> </span>A train came, and as the noticeboard said it was my train, I hopped on, unsuspecting.<span style=""> </span>After a little bit, I wondered if I really was on the right train.<span style=""> </span>I asked some people and they just nodded and went on their way, giving the impression that they didn’t really understand my English.<span style=""> </span>When the ticket man came around, he took my ticket and shook my head.<span style=""> </span>I asked him if I was on the right train, but he didn’t speak English.<span style=""> </span>He kept on pointing to the ticket and shaking his head.<span style=""> </span>I tried explaining my situation, pointing at Rheine, a train station, saying “I. Got. On. Here.”<span style=""> </span>I would then point to Amsterdam.<span style=""> </span>“I. Want. To. Go. Here. <span style=""> </span>Am. I. On. The. Right. Train?”<span style=""> </span>He would then look at me stupidly and then shake his head rambling off in German, pointing to his little portable computer at Amsterdam, and writing in red.<span style=""> </span>After successfully achieving nothing, he shook his head once more and left me, more confused than ever.<span style=""> </span>I stayed on the train for about an hour and a half, until the train stopped at a station called Emden.<span style=""> </span>Knowing that this wasn’t Amsterdam, I was surprised to see everyone get off, and train shut down.<span style=""> </span>I got out and went into the station into the tourist information.<span style=""> </span>Asking how to get to Amsterdam, the lady quickly told me that I had to go to Rheine, (where I’d just come from!) on the train at the platform (where I’d just gotten off!).<span style=""> </span>I then knew I had definitely come the wrong way, and hopped back on the train.<span style=""> </span>The ticket man this time knew a little more English and said the trains to Amsterdam were delayed.<span style=""> </span>After another hour and a half, I arrived back in Rheine, at about 11:30.<span style=""> </span>I was meant to have arrived in Amsterdam at 11.<span style=""> </span>Surprisingly I wasn’t upset or stressed, as the journey to Emden had been quite beautiful.<span style=""> </span>I still had no idea where I had gone to, but it didn’t really matter.<span style=""> </span>I caught the ten o’clock train for Amsterdam at twelve, two hours delayed, and got into Amsterdam at two.<span style=""> </span>My train back to Emsdetten left at five.<span style=""> </span>I asked the train station if there was a later train, but the only one after five left at seven, and I would have had to swap trains four times.<span style=""> </span>After my little mistake earlier in the day, I opted for the safer option.<span style=""> </span>I did a quick whirlwind tour of Amsterdam, and absolutely loved it.<span style=""> </span>I love Amsterdam!<span style=""> </span>I think it is such a beautiful city.<span style=""> </span>I went to the palace, to the monument; I tried to find Anne Frank’s house and walked along the canals.<span style=""> </span>It was a beautiful day, with blue skies and the sun was shining.<span style=""> </span>I had the perfect time just walking along, turning right, then left, getting lost in the small streets and the canals that shape the city.<span style=""> </span>The time went too quickly, and before I knew it, it was time to catch the train again.<span style=""> </span>I said my goodbyes to Amsterdam, with the hope that I’d come back again one day and explore it with my time and ease.<span style=""> </span>The train trip back was uneventful, and I got home safely without catching the wrong train!<span style=""> </span>Benne’s family laughed so much when I told them I went to Emden, and I found out that Emden is on the coast of Germany, right at the top of the country, where you can catch ferries to other places.<span style=""> </span>I figured out that I spent nine hours on a train on Thursday and three in the city, and I was completely happy.<span style=""> </span>I really enjoyed my day, looking at the scenery, getting lost and not understanding German.<span style=""> </span>When I was in Barcelona and Madrid I always seemed to get annoyed at the announcements made in English, thinking, “No one needs the English announcements, they should just learn Spanish.<span style=""> </span>This is stupid.”<span style=""> </span>Knowing Spanish, I had no problems getting around or knowing where to go.<span style=""> </span>But after being in Germany, with no language skills and going to the completely wrong part of the country because of my lack of knowledge of German, I now feel very grateful to all those English announcements.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Something that I’ve loved this week has been listening to Benne and his family speak German.<span style=""> </span>When Benne was in our house in Australia, he didn’t speak German (obviously), and I have absolutely loved hearing it so much this week.<span style=""> </span>I really would like to learn German one day, as I think it is a really beautiful language.<span style=""> </span>The pronunciation for me is really difficult, but it’s something that I’d really like to learn.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">This week in Germany has passed incredibly quickly, and I really hope to come back one day soon and spend some time here and learn German!<span style=""> </span>(And eat lots of their delicious bread!)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Today I head off to Spain, my last stop before arriving home.<span style=""> </span>I have ten days left before I board that plane and say goodbye to my exchange, and hello to Australia, my family and friends and the new and exciting adventures that await me.<span style=""> </span>I am spending two days in Madrid, going to the museums I’ve yet to go to, exploring the city a little more, before heading down to Sevilla for five days.<span style=""> </span>I hope to spend these five days relaxing, exploring Sevilla and its surroundings.<span style=""> </span>I’ve never been to the south of Spain, and am a little anxious about their dreadful (probably not dreadful, just ‘different’, though dreadful is how people from Tudela describe it as!) accents, and if I’ll have trouble understanding them and visa versa.<span style=""> </span>After Sevilla, I will head back up to Madrid for my last couple of days, hoping to go on day trips to Toledo and Segovia.<span style=""> </span>Then, on Wednesday the 2<sup>nd</sup> of February, I will head off the airport, board the plane, say goodbye to Spain, my second home, and get excited about heading back to my other home, in Australia.<span style=""> </span>Some days I just want to get it over and done with, rip the bandaid off and get home already, the other part never wants this to end.<span style=""> </span>I suppose it’s a little bit like leaving Australia.<span style=""> </span>Only this time, I don’t know when I’ll be back.<span style=""> </span>Gosh, I’m going to miss having Spanish in my life everyday.<span style=""> </span>Never again will I have this experience.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Thank you, thank you, thank you God for this experience.<span style=""> </span>I will never forget it – the good bits and the bad bits.<span style=""> </span>And thank you to my parents.<span style=""> </span>If it weren’t for my parents, their support and love, I wouldn’t have been able to leave everything for a year, and learn about life.<span style=""> </span>So, thank you.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">I have learnt so much this year, and I don’t know what God has planned for me, but I hope that I will take this year, all that’s been challenging, all that’s been easy, all the learning and use it to be living my life for God.<span style=""> </span>I’m so excited to be getting back into church, into fellowship.<span style=""> </span>Although that aspect has been really difficult for me this year, the lack of fellowship, I know that God has shown me how important fellowship, community, church really is.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">The scenery is beautiful, so I am going to go and enjoy it.<span style=""> </span>I love travelling (and listening to German)!</span></p>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-36673696982440995162011-01-10T12:03:00.000-08:002011-01-10T13:14:59.303-08:00Time Flies When You're Having Fun.<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Wow, I can't believe that it is now January, and I only have a few more weeks left of my exchange. I will be in Australia, back 'home' in 25 days. It's something that I can't really comprehend, that I'm actually counting down the days until I'll be in Australia, when I've been away from home for a year now. Thinking about home is complicated, because I see Tudela as my home, and Australia as this far away land that of course is my home, but hasn't been for a year. I feel a little confused to be honest! I have finally left Tudela for good, and that has made me realise just how much I really miss it, and how much Tudela meant to me, and really felt like my home. I find it unusual to think that I'm actually going back to Australia. It doesn't really feel real, and I'm not sure how it will be finally seeing all my family and friends and my hometown. I mean to say, I'm extremely excited, I'm itching to go home, but at the same time, when I take that step, and reach my homeland, Tudela will be thousands of kilometres out of reach, which really makes it feel extremely daunting to leave Europe.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">But this is a part of exchange, and coming home and readjusting to Australian life is all part of the experience. I'm really looking forward to coming home and making myself at home, exploring my town and seeing it with new eyes. Just sitting here, writing this post, I feel like it will never happen. It doesn't feel real at all that I'm coming home. My best friend wrote on my facebook wall that I'm coming home in three weeks. It just feels so foreign to me! Haha, I suppose I keep on saying the same thing over and over again, but to me, I need to keep on thinking about it, because I can't understand the concept of actually FINALLY coming home to Australia, speaking English with Australians, and saying goodbye to my European year.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I have had a very busy few weeks since I last posted. I went to Germany (was late by three days because of the air strike in Madrid) and had the most wonderful time. I absolutely fell in love with German, and it was so much fun to see Benne, our old German exchange student and his family again. I am actually heading to their place again next week, so am really looking forward to that.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Christmas was a really different Christmas for me. Different, but really enjoyable. In Spain noche buena, or Christmas Eve is more important, so we spent noche buena with the family, where Santa came and delivered presents. It was so fun to see the little kids that actually believed that Santa really does exist, (and to those who do still believe, he does exist! We heard him!) open their presents, and squeal with delight when they heard Santa say, "Merry Christmas boys and girls!" It was a really lovely last night with my host family. My host family went to Singapore on Christmas day, so Christmas was so different, as I was alone for it! Not all day, but for the afternoon at least. My parents Christmas presents also didn't arrive so I only had one present which felt weird. It didn't really feel like Christmas either because it wasn't centred around God. It wasn't a celebration of Jesus' birth, but rather a celebration of presents and family. I think I found that really difficult, not having anyone to fellowship with, and celebrate the real reason of Christmas with. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Saying goodbye to my host family was really sad. I said goodbye to them at the train station, and María Antonia, my host mum, just held my face and started crying. She said to me, "You know where your home is." It shocked me just how sad I was to be leaving my family, but it was really nice that it was sad, because it meant that we meant a lot to each other. After they left I headed back to Tudela, repacked my bags, and had my Spanish friends and exchange students over for my last night in Spain. We had a Mexican feast and hung out and reminisced. It was the perfect end to my exchange.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I didn't feel sad about leaving Tudela, because the people I was saying goodbye to, I am actually seeing again before I leave, so I didn't really feel like I was saying goodbye. As soon I was out of the town, I realised that I didn't know the next time I was going to see it, but it still didn't really sink in, until I was in England.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I will hopefully blog about my week in England and then Lithuania later, as I have a lot to say, but if I never get around to it, know that I had an amazing time, and that I really got to experience some different and wonderful cultures!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">At the moment, I am actually in Jordan. I feel so incredibly blessed to have been able to travel this month. It is absolutely crazy! Today I went to Petra and was just so amazed by the culture, the history, the architecture, everything. It is easily one of the most amazing places I've been to in my life. I cannot believe that today I went to Petra, and saw the treasury, the monastery, rode a donkey, talked to Bedouins, and speak Spanish! When I was at the monastery, in Petra, I took a photo for a couple, and learnt that they spoke Spanish, so I asked them where they were from, and found out that the woman was from Peru, and the man from Zaragoza, right near my home town! It was so exciting to meet someone in Jordan who knew my town, that spoke Spanish, I felt like I was at home again, and it felt wonderful to speak Spanish again. I spent the day with a lovely 70 year old, Pam, from England that I met on the bus, and it was wonderful to talk about life, Jordan, trips and the world with her; I loved that we were 50 years in age difference apart, yet we could talk about so much, and enjoy each others company immensly. I will hopefully write some more on Jordan and Petra this week, as I have so much to tell, but am tired at the moment.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">25 days. That's what is left of this incredible year that I have been blessed with. I really hope that these next 25 days will be as great as the 25 days after that, and the 25 days after that. I really pray that although my exchange year is finishing, my adventures will keep coming. I sometimes get frustrated that I've been away this year, my Dad turned 50, my best friend got engaged, my friends started and completed their first year of uni. I've missed hanging out with my friends, but I know that this is just around the corner for me. In literally 25 days, I will be able to celebrate these milestones with the people I love, and start my own as well. I can't believe what I've accomplished and am so excited for what I am going to be doing in Australia!</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;">Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD;<br /> let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.<br /> Let us come before him with thanksgiving<br /> and extol him with music and song. </div><p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"> For the LORD is the great God,<br /> the great King above all gods.<br />In his hand are the depths of the earth,<br /> and the mountain peaks belong to him.<br /><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-15460">5</sup> The sea is his, for he made it,<br /> and his hands formed the dry land. </p><p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"> Come, let us bow down in worship,<br /> let us kneel before the LORD our Maker;<br /> for he is our God<br /> and we are the people of his pasture,<br /> the flock under his care. </p><p style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"> Today, if only you would hear his voice,<br />“Do not harden your hearts as you did at Meribah,<br /> as you did that day at Massah in the wilderness,<br /> where your ancestors tested me;<br /> they tried me, though they had seen what I did.<br />For forty years I was angry with that generation;<br /> I said, ‘They are a people whose hearts go astray,<br /> and they have not known my ways.’<br /> So I declared on oath in my anger,<br /> ‘They shall never enter my rest.’” </p><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Psalm 95</span><br /></div>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-2832985398320917562010-12-02T16:23:00.001-08:002010-12-02T16:24:05.553-08:00I love that I'm friends enough with people here in Spain that they fart in front of me. :)laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-8246337399243696962010-12-01T14:25:00.001-08:002010-12-01T14:43:00.964-08:00Skyping.I absolutely love talking to my parents. Being able to see them face to face really makes me feel as if I'm there with them, and that they're here with me.<br /><br />At the moment, every night I pop onto Skype and Mum reads me a chapter of Pollyanna. It is so much fun, and I love hearing her reading this book, making me excited about life and feeling glad about all there is to be glad about.<br /><br />Being away from my friends and family for so long has made me realise how much I love them, how important they are to me, and how life would have much less meaning without them. So, today I am glad for technology; the fact that Skype exists, that I can communicate with my friends and family through so many ways. Skype, Facebook, email, phone, letters, postcards, my blog. I cannot imagine what exchange would have been like when there was no Facebook, no Skype, no internet. It would have made things much more difficult and I would have missed everyone so much more. Knowing that my parents are just a call away whenever I need them is a comfort that I truly can't express.<br /><br />I believe that God has used this year to talk to me, to help me grow up, help me see the amazing world that he has made, and the importance of family and friends. Being away from what is most important to you, makes you question <span style="font-style: italic;">what</span> you're living for, and <span style="font-style: italic;">who</span> you're living for. God has shown me this year that without him, I wouldn't be here. That it is only through God that I have life. I am so excited and glad for the life that I have, and feel blessed that I am alive. I look forward to each day God has given me, glad that I am in a position and have been placed in circumstances where I can be living for him, serving him, worshiping him in all that I do. <br /><br />Today, a huge encouragement to me has been this verse:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.”</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Philippians 4:6 (NLT)</span><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />Being here, in Spain, I often forget who to turn to when I'm struggling with something. How great it is to know that we can all turn to God and pray about everything. I have God with me here in Tudela, and I don't need Skype, or Facebook, or my email to reach him. I am saved by him. <br /><br />So thank you Lord, thank you for all you have given me and blessed me with. <br /></div></div>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-30255966225035434332010-11-30T13:40:00.000-08:002010-11-30T14:38:11.972-08:00Snow!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJjCp_MX-Dngl3_FNmtNOSZfOzksEA0n54XJGYbP1ePbDhTvF7J_XnuN7hAujRDq9dQIm6JM4SVmIGamNGhkd4pNbPdl3R3wWU_Tx37lPB8U_0uKK1X5IctXGwNY_osPt7E6dDKQldGk/s1600/DSCN0781.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJjCp_MX-Dngl3_FNmtNOSZfOzksEA0n54XJGYbP1ePbDhTvF7J_XnuN7hAujRDq9dQIm6JM4SVmIGamNGhkd4pNbPdl3R3wWU_Tx37lPB8U_0uKK1X5IctXGwNY_osPt7E6dDKQldGk/s320/DSCN0781.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545471297663343442" border="0" /></a><br />I'm going to leave my photos and videos to say the words that I am too tired to write.<br /><br />But, I am incredibly glad that today I live in a place where it snows. It excites me beyond words.<br /><br />I don't know how to upload the videos so you can see them on this post, but here are the links:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1HRRHzhLkwE">Video one of snow.</a><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T6ZetQPxTpQ">Video two of snow.</a><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=43uSWsdNv-k">Video three of snow.</a><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44Kn5WdVJbmEtdoArKh-IEyzuEbp1gFF12PsUBlRoVVDcb_AFH2pg7P7koLvOXupBjyZySLJPPmP_ON5WHGBbkRSg1q6aknM5BjUKNps37HytFLlMp531aVoMpRgSRoXvDaQMFZEfMtA/s1600/DSCN0762.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44Kn5WdVJbmEtdoArKh-IEyzuEbp1gFF12PsUBlRoVVDcb_AFH2pg7P7koLvOXupBjyZySLJPPmP_ON5WHGBbkRSg1q6aknM5BjUKNps37HytFLlMp531aVoMpRgSRoXvDaQMFZEfMtA/s320/DSCN0762.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545467052811911170" border="0" /></a>My backyard when I woke up.<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF4r_A7Yw4op3TaUiH5C6MuXC4bBIIL3bce9Ezpc4rXf-YbKhiu_tOnq6ztB-g0mTeQt5jeh2hWtRQrMeWHkcIIfQq8UcNRd8Gg4ahVzU8NNpys2Xp-1NntNt6rRCkMbHeJBzzQ3liHJ0/s1600/DSCN0783.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF4r_A7Yw4op3TaUiH5C6MuXC4bBIIL3bce9Ezpc4rXf-YbKhiu_tOnq6ztB-g0mTeQt5jeh2hWtRQrMeWHkcIIfQq8UcNRd8Gg4ahVzU8NNpys2Xp-1NntNt6rRCkMbHeJBzzQ3liHJ0/s320/DSCN0783.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545471313235840546" border="0" /></a>The park right by my house on the way to school.<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQAYzRN-PnuzCSIwC417bnM-gcFlBPmcQjJVVm2l1Bx1VEpzytxpUqZLUfGfdOb0FT5ZX0w9FkfSYbVa0bOPhn0B1rT3D_1KpNW4s3K9nOOgtT5PzuhLA1b-kRJg6FNgsIs4IriWmBOVY/s1600/DSCN0779.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQAYzRN-PnuzCSIwC417bnM-gcFlBPmcQjJVVm2l1Bx1VEpzytxpUqZLUfGfdOb0FT5ZX0w9FkfSYbVa0bOPhn0B1rT3D_1KpNW4s3K9nOOgtT5PzuhLA1b-kRJg6FNgsIs4IriWmBOVY/s320/DSCN0779.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545469986337497506" border="0" /></a>This tree kept part of the grass green and uncovered!<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-H3OSxjDLK44Jm1kriOHcIqHk065rz9cgodO39lrQAtr2TPMn4HM_p8BVudMD3nANmT8lC7b0h8xMyKisAKiausf-HdOStoMt2nlOxonC5sMSHoWVDk5WqkpWy7B4BPpw4DBTVY7Ta3w/s1600/DSCN0775.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-H3OSxjDLK44Jm1kriOHcIqHk065rz9cgodO39lrQAtr2TPMn4HM_p8BVudMD3nANmT8lC7b0h8xMyKisAKiausf-HdOStoMt2nlOxonC5sMSHoWVDk5WqkpWy7B4BPpw4DBTVY7Ta3w/s320/DSCN0775.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545469980573835586" border="0" /></a>The park right by my house on the way to school.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCvEWc0DvFpaSvrs1dfTWLs4YohpcljmbN3aqDMVN1XSEqY5AL9j8GWzcbRuiuGgWcuhJOAA3PJaygNlWUR-TKft27nUc7NT4TnhDGdFMd88rCqdJUPRxqi6qWZ7H8ukt5ypryMNWFfs/s1600/DSCN0772.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCvEWc0DvFpaSvrs1dfTWLs4YohpcljmbN3aqDMVN1XSEqY5AL9j8GWzcbRuiuGgWcuhJOAA3PJaygNlWUR-TKft27nUc7NT4TnhDGdFMd88rCqdJUPRxqi6qWZ7H8ukt5ypryMNWFfs/s320/DSCN0772.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545468411006209266" border="0" /></a>The park right by my house on the way to school.<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjBG9Jmbqnt3oqbC3FX1UNLwXf1t7So8zOGGP2YWE-xf9IHOpLi_LfzaMs545JhwKOghQdVd3lD6RyS5pRTQ8N8r8cYQLOvFLS0q1oJcVlTiTIkDvQSppOTk_v_XGvwsLtxMjZaisnAc/s1600/DSCN0767.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjBG9Jmbqnt3oqbC3FX1UNLwXf1t7So8zOGGP2YWE-xf9IHOpLi_LfzaMs545JhwKOghQdVd3lD6RyS5pRTQ8N8r8cYQLOvFLS0q1oJcVlTiTIkDvQSppOTk_v_XGvwsLtxMjZaisnAc/s320/DSCN0767.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545468406196940802" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifz_e0H2f_DSYI8ZGLm1eVMxGolwEItWhmt4JhkKyh6Ny6q9tOj6hJNoOVr3OXGWLd62W2DVlY0xOYwEBwX-ZaWEpZqA1i0T-eMPDWOndeXGY_ukBR_m2664Vh4G9dVIrtan0oTkWInqA/s1600/DSCN0787.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifz_e0H2f_DSYI8ZGLm1eVMxGolwEItWhmt4JhkKyh6Ny6q9tOj6hJNoOVr3OXGWLd62W2DVlY0xOYwEBwX-ZaWEpZqA1i0T-eMPDWOndeXGY_ukBR_m2664Vh4G9dVIrtan0oTkWInqA/s320/DSCN0787.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545472573701834402" border="0" /></a>Snow on the leaves!<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgIVKJBfYqpf5ZYsLuwhOzUVbaT1qSncBLC4Wg_APhNcuIT0s3drVt3REJq4w5vrPKq2eWgiyvh-tY1lMixkU-flvF-3fiHDw1frBhv7q2Ti6U_1CuNMZfiB9q2WzVBMzzb8Chtm2meSo/s1600/DSCN0786.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgIVKJBfYqpf5ZYsLuwhOzUVbaT1qSncBLC4Wg_APhNcuIT0s3drVt3REJq4w5vrPKq2eWgiyvh-tY1lMixkU-flvF-3fiHDw1frBhv7q2Ti6U_1CuNMZfiB9q2WzVBMzzb8Chtm2meSo/s320/DSCN0786.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545472567416594098" border="0" /></a>Snow on the railings.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrJOJ9hd4lieuqj3gvxG1Lb90vXg3-RSutiLYFsQa2gaNncY-K_yjjs5E1F5UbdmJaYkP8ROmeOBENTKUL-3osWBYjUzozd0xLcQNtHfbAoXyWfOo60efmyODofkhPC8PIk5hCLlwyKg/s1600/DSCN0793.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrJOJ9hd4lieuqj3gvxG1Lb90vXg3-RSutiLYFsQa2gaNncY-K_yjjs5E1F5UbdmJaYkP8ROmeOBENTKUL-3osWBYjUzozd0xLcQNtHfbAoXyWfOo60efmyODofkhPC8PIk5hCLlwyKg/s320/DSCN0793.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545474070694585762" border="0" /></a>I took photos of this park the other day about autumn leaves. What a change in scenery!<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoV9_j3z_Bx8XIgAfaXy26E4VhKaoL4wS50mqlG-GoC3j_42jUW-1Wl9MrcI29Oyuge9j2N3Ol7YQ_Hj4Z4GBaPUT2i-4dOquO_s6yQ0_x6Rxkzd3tSAdmn8vIE6f8iAUG8nkLGBnu528/s1600/DSCN0792.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoV9_j3z_Bx8XIgAfaXy26E4VhKaoL4wS50mqlG-GoC3j_42jUW-1Wl9MrcI29Oyuge9j2N3Ol7YQ_Hj4Z4GBaPUT2i-4dOquO_s6yQ0_x6Rxkzd3tSAdmn8vIE6f8iAUG8nkLGBnu528/s320/DSCN0792.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545474066693970978" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Park right opposite Javier's school, on my walk to my school this morning. The kids were all having snow ball fights.<br /><br />Loving winter incredibly much, and glad that Mum and Dad bought me a jacket in Sweden so I'm never cold, but roasty warm.<br /></div>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-59220456296593222332010-11-29T13:57:00.000-08:002010-11-29T15:08:31.304-08:00Boni.<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQir1QdljhW7sstCuNaVM9E5A2gFh4aAsMuJiGrq9zjaUuaMelTdZKoEO7V4NiWEyVBmaRGoa4N_UPiC6L5F6TIsu2i4qGZQN1SMRDYJ1jGifwXNlxrmdzSauGjiIsHMJccuP3lEMVflE/s1600/DSCN0756.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQir1QdljhW7sstCuNaVM9E5A2gFh4aAsMuJiGrq9zjaUuaMelTdZKoEO7V4NiWEyVBmaRGoa4N_UPiC6L5F6TIsu2i4qGZQN1SMRDYJ1jGifwXNlxrmdzSauGjiIsHMJccuP3lEMVflE/s320/DSCN0756.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545101430554658642" border="0" /></a>Boni, our Spanish Golden Retriever.<br /><br /></div>Today I have a lot to be glad about!<br /><br />In Australia I have a dog. Her name is Bonnie. In Australia I slept with her on my bed, and we were the bestest of friends. My parents often were working or at uni or doing what they do, so I was at home by myself often; but was never lonely because I had Bonnie at my side. Bonnie was like my best friend. I love Bonnie. I miss Bonnie.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZyyERnbhR9V6183wXFO8DYKSsDb3ughO6qIfyhvYIwH8ZPOGj8wCM15_uMxh2AmyUXV9JVRw4SHKlav2hjzjuAQ-nlMOI5C5CbDnmQs7fp6QEriYGRylmOhkKzcc-Z2d6EPKkDNTE1k/s1600/PB030381.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZyyERnbhR9V6183wXFO8DYKSsDb3ughO6qIfyhvYIwH8ZPOGj8wCM15_uMxh2AmyUXV9JVRw4SHKlav2hjzjuAQ-nlMOI5C5CbDnmQs7fp6QEriYGRylmOhkKzcc-Z2d6EPKkDNTE1k/s320/PB030381.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545098860050080242" border="0" /></a>Meet Bonnie, the cutest dog you will ever meet in your life. Ever.<br /></div><br />Being in Spain, I live with a host family, whose pets are a tortoise and a fish. I have missed so much having a dog, having that company that neither a fish, nor a tortoise, nor a cat can give you. I am and forever will be a dog person. My host siblings this year have been wanting to have a dog all year and during the summer there was a point in time when we were going to have a dog, making me so extremely excited! But, exams, stresses and the reality of picking up its poo came about, and in the end we didn't get the puppy.<br /><br />Every time we came close to getting a dog, I became so excited, so happy, because to me, Bonnie is a part of my family. She is adorable, has her own little personality and I spent so much time with her when I was at home. I wanted another addition to the family like Bonnie, and to experience having a pet in Spain.<br /><br />For my birthday, Min, one of my best friends, bought me a mini Bonnie dog. Mini Bonnie dog is white, fluffy, miniature replica of Bonnie in Australia. I sleep with it every night, and is just like Bonnie in Australia. Whenever I'm homesick I hug mini Bonnie dog and it reminds me of home!<br /><br />This afternoon Ana came home from a week long exchange in England. She has been begging her parents for a pet for so long, that they said that they were going to talk to some people about some puppies. I took Javier to music, and then came home and played the piano for a bit, when the door opened and we heard some squealing. <br /><br />WE GOT A DOG!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLnZ6U-Q_dCX7v8_1tlUEV4tw2hFDrQ1YJjcl5Vi_r8S2Zvyoy9r6MObja0XhF4tSvdGCpgJbIc7J3EIi-d8YiB_Eoa29Nkd8TbjfUgIJ8ha7bDS2uLphROiYC__Y0ZNdCLsa4iAFVlNg/s1600/DSCN0730.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLnZ6U-Q_dCX7v8_1tlUEV4tw2hFDrQ1YJjcl5Vi_r8S2Zvyoy9r6MObja0XhF4tSvdGCpgJbIc7J3EIi-d8YiB_Eoa29Nkd8TbjfUgIJ8ha7bDS2uLphROiYC__Y0ZNdCLsa4iAFVlNg/s320/DSCN0730.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545101379308673378" border="0" /></a>Maria with the puppy.<br /><br /></div>There was this tiny, (not really) beautiful, little (not really) puppy sitting on our doorstep, with its cute little puppy eyes staring up at us. I couldn't believe it. After all these months, we now finally had one! <br /><br />As we played with him, he got accustomed to his new home, and we pondered what we were going to call him. I kept on saying, "Awww Bonnie," thinking of Bonnie in Australia, missing her lots. They all looked at each other and all said, "hmm, Boni. Boni." testing the word over and over. They eventually all smiled and decisively said, "Yes. Boni it is." I don't think they really realise that Bonnie is traditionally a girls name, and that it's a little weird (for us Australians anyway) to have a male dog called Boni. Now I have a Bonnie in Australia and a Boni in Spain. Just saying that makes me grin.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9pRGZXhX1-Ex0FoWucGSzIKfJBM0DkHpJnB4N6aS0_zWNHkVHjCv7leL98HPs_lRAhvEBo1s-SeICz-v7ZQr0WX1wuqNfyrSNuoOm9vXUTpMi6oOuG1LzkBvhFyY6q8roNE2MtXFPi0/s1600/DSCN0738.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9pRGZXhX1-Ex0FoWucGSzIKfJBM0DkHpJnB4N6aS0_zWNHkVHjCv7leL98HPs_lRAhvEBo1s-SeICz-v7ZQr0WX1wuqNfyrSNuoOm9vXUTpMi6oOuG1LzkBvhFyY6q8roNE2MtXFPi0/s320/DSCN0738.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545101394208176690" border="0" /></a>Boni meeting Mini Bonnie Dog.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I love dogs. And Boni is no exception. He is a huge puppy, at least from my perspective. He weighs six kilos and is about 50 cm long. He is already two kilos more than Bonnie, and longer and fatter than her as well. I find that hard to comprehend, as Boni is only eight weeks old, and will grow to weigh about 35 kilos, whereas Bonnie is around four kilos at best and is eight years old! <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk7IxbD4Tbm-B1M9jbX0z0vFmIxsTP1EEbmC1FehKihRaCFYrXQFsppVYM4Hz52fHC8funAefqcaC9zrABddovido3obrtlflI03MZcGpYoaojlA9LeOPXQnfQhq9W1bazFAp1R3svuFU/s1600/DSCN0734.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk7IxbD4Tbm-B1M9jbX0z0vFmIxsTP1EEbmC1FehKihRaCFYrXQFsppVYM4Hz52fHC8funAefqcaC9zrABddovido3obrtlflI03MZcGpYoaojlA9LeOPXQnfQhq9W1bazFAp1R3svuFU/s320/DSCN0734.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545101389382391058" border="0" /></a>Me and Boni and his cute little tummy.<br /></div><br />This afternoon has been so much fun, playing with Boni, getting him to walk up the stairs, trying to get him to stand up without slipping on the floorboards. I feel extremely thankful, blessed and glad that I have been given the opportunity to have a dog, even if it is only for the month left that I have in Tudela.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh24SU9A5UAl7arlxTFAubbFh9e1YPtofL5iVUWAwzt43LYEpbjXEijUiXEVtJKVv1vZvvivCWLpA50AQQ9FwJ9zEXTLz8AG23OXtrBSCVJwZseq9Oa2EsGEARZxdKJKhsl4aMYbS868wg/s1600/DSCN0741.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh24SU9A5UAl7arlxTFAubbFh9e1YPtofL5iVUWAwzt43LYEpbjXEijUiXEVtJKVv1vZvvivCWLpA50AQQ9FwJ9zEXTLz8AG23OXtrBSCVJwZseq9Oa2EsGEARZxdKJKhsl4aMYbS868wg/s320/DSCN0741.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545101403018775778" border="0" /></a>Taking Boni on his first walk.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I am so very happy to be able to have a dog that I can hug, that I can be friends with, that I can watch grow. I am very glad that I can experience bringing up a 'Spanish dog'. I am glad for dogs, and the friendship and companionship they bring. But I think most of all, I'm glad that Ana, Maria and Javier can grow up having Boni, a beautiful golden retriever as a part of their family, because for me at least, Bonnie and all the dogs I've had have been some of my favourite parts of my childhood, and my adolescent life now. <br /></div></div></div></div>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-9350986508585225182010-11-28T07:47:00.000-08:002010-11-28T08:55:21.457-08:00Education.<span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" >Something I feel extremely blessed (and <i>glad!</i>) about, is Australian education. Being placed in a different school, in a different country for a year gives you a lot of perspective on how distinct school cultures are in various countries.<br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted to go to an American school, experience the life of lockers, cafeteria food, no uniform, cheerleaders, drama clubs. Watching movies about kids in those schools made me want to go to a school like that, instead of a school that had no canteen and a uniform policy of 'no hat no play'. I loved Australian school, but the idea of a foreign school, a school so completely unlike the school I attended was my ultimate dream. I never got to attend an American school, but I have been able to attend a Spanish school whilst I've been here on exchange.<br /><br />What a difference.<br /><br />After spending this year in the Spanish schooling system, I feel so incredibly blessed and lucky that I have been able to be educated in an Australian school, with no canteen and uniforms. Spanish school is so unlike Australian school, so different from the school that I had imagined I would attend.<br /><br />Growing up, I loved school. I always loved the end of the summer holidays, where we would go to Officeworks and buy our new stationary and cover our books in contact. I loved the feel and smell of new backpacks, new pencil cases, eagerly walking to class to see who your classmates would be. Entering highschool, I loved the changes in timetables, the feeling of being a grownup, of studying 'adult' subjects. As I reached year 11 and year 12, my school grade became smaller, we all grew a lot closer to each other, and everyone was friends with everyone. Year 11 and 12 brought a sense of independence, of maturity, respect and a sense of friendship and equality with the teachers. I loved that I was studying subjects that I loved, that I could leave at 10 am on a Tuesday morning. I loved playing netball at school, being on the leadership team, being school captain, doing tutoring for year 10 and 11. I loved being an active part of school and knowing students and teachers and being their friends. Some of my fondest memories are of watching Scrubs every morning in year 11 before school started, with the whole of our grade cramped around the computer screen; making forts and eating yummy food in Extension English classes; drama with our assortment of teachers; toga days in Ancient History; the funness of Spanish; being able to express myself in art. I have so many memories of school, and I learnt more than just the subjects I took.<br /><br />Coming to school in Spain was a shock.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihomaHUk6H9F-85qaqPlcUHP_7d0FbT2fJDX-WB9VGfKPGyF-kmaDQ6akilnobrCTTVJNNCftQTUxuwE5b8f0bsf9nhpB5W0Nqj4RVBlkBLZpIg2Z4emIrJ2mXdwZJr9DmGDa8v9N3WtQ/s1600/P9300564.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihomaHUk6H9F-85qaqPlcUHP_7d0FbT2fJDX-WB9VGfKPGyF-kmaDQ6akilnobrCTTVJNNCftQTUxuwE5b8f0bsf9nhpB5W0Nqj4RVBlkBLZpIg2Z4emIrJ2mXdwZJr9DmGDa8v9N3WtQ/s320/P9300564.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544644064886212146" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">My class in Australia playing soccer with two of the teachers.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />My school in Australia ran onto the bush, so we had a lot of land, with lots of grass and trees. As I entered my new Spanish school, I realised that I had been in an incredible school in Australia. My Spanish school consists of two buildings, and two concrete playgrounds with a fence surrounding it. There are maybe at most 20 trees in the whole of the school, and not one bit of grass. The library consists of about 200 books at most. The fence is huge, and looks like big prison bars, and is locked during the day except at the front gate. It was and still is such a huge contrast of my old school and my school here now in Spain</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitd8j6XL4HQwuuhS52jrujXQ4CXK_g-tqZxVdl168l3pdn0R-HeSh9T6wuGlcvz_St_5_oQ39uKTYrjH_HdqFDN_zwL9IbJOG3N9hnu3EPMWghkDJjEsTLsB2eLrTJL4aEHsVmytqr-AE/s1600/P9270536.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitd8j6XL4HQwuuhS52jrujXQ4CXK_g-tqZxVdl168l3pdn0R-HeSh9T6wuGlcvz_St_5_oQ39uKTYrjH_HdqFDN_zwL9IbJOG3N9hnu3EPMWghkDJjEsTLsB2eLrTJL4aEHsVmytqr-AE/s320/P9270536.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544644049967228306" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Oval of my school in Australia.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihg0AHKzXGfoFH9gSypv8j6sSC5pu3K3bw_m19YMft0zPk30oMiMrGexRzySk6zca8DlhqR6V-Grp9fm_MTLrVcrOTCw6FS8kgqv3qGrb3U4nfxshpz8e7soFj0geqROeMytB-DnuzbE8/s1600/P5120055.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihg0AHKzXGfoFH9gSypv8j6sSC5pu3K3bw_m19YMft0zPk30oMiMrGexRzySk6zca8DlhqR6V-Grp9fm_MTLrVcrOTCw6FS8kgqv3qGrb3U4nfxshpz8e7soFj0geqROeMytB-DnuzbE8/s320/P5120055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544644023134756530" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Courtyard of my school in Spain.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFxbrfpNiNVBxH-UgdpCD4PcZzXZUwXOhJ1Cw1Z-KQEJ_Ru0dyBOXXdlU6tswxmknFJCKXeDpkgbDSduxxLKikNl81dbhBvce6TAFbc9MbhP5EuRjzM6uYEz1Xa0AeaDphdqF0Emep3s/s1600/DSCN0695.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFxbrfpNiNVBxH-UgdpCD4PcZzXZUwXOhJ1Cw1Z-KQEJ_Ru0dyBOXXdlU6tswxmknFJCKXeDpkgbDSduxxLKikNl81dbhBvce6TAFbc9MbhP5EuRjzM6uYEz1Xa0AeaDphdqF0Emep3s/s320/DSCN0695.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544644002089779010" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Javier's school. (Notice the fences?)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />In Australia, during year 11 and 12, you're able to choose your subjects that you study. In Spain, you're able to choose a stream of subjects, sciences, and humanities. In Australia I studied Spanish, Ancient History, Drama, Art and three classes of English. I absolutely loved them. Here I study Philosophy, English, Spanish, History of Spain, Maths, Geography, Universal Literature and I think something else. I enjoy my subjects in Spain, but I don't understand a lot of the concepts (mainly in Philosophy).<br /><br />One big difference between Spanish schooling and Australian schooling is the use of substitute teachers. In Australia, if the teacher wasn’t able to come to class, we were given a substitute teacher, and were still expected to do some work, (unless we felt like being naughty and told the teacher we hadn't actually studied the book we were studying - haha sorry Mrs Williams!) whereas here in Spain, if there is no teacher, there is no class. This can become a problem if a teacher is sick for a period of time, because if they are away for a week, the class has no class for a week. Last year (in May or June) my history teacher was sick for about a week and a half, so we had no class during those lessons. This was during a time where they had exams, so it was quite important that they learnt what they needed to learn. It was a week and a half of lost learning time. When I first came, I found it fun, interesting, a novelty, but after being here for 10 months, I can now see how much of a nuisance and disadvantage it is to the kids. Thank you to all substitute teachers that I've ever had! I know that we often don't respect you as much as our normal teachers, but after being here without you guys, I now realise how important you are to education!<br /><br />Another difference is in exams. In my school in Australia, we had 4 periods a year of exams. These periods normally lasted about two weeks, and the whole of those weeks would be filled with exams, where we would be examined of all we had learnt that year. Here in Spain, they constantly have exams. For example, two weeks ago Ana my host sister had 13 exams. In one week. She's 14. My class had 10 exams last week, two of them being after school. Spanish schooling systems put great emphasis onto the exams, and if you fail as much as three exams for three subjects, you will fail the whole year and be made to repeat. There are about three or four people in my class alone that have failed a year, and are repeating. To me, it's crazy, something that I don't really understand. My class is often so stressed, that all they do after school and on the weekends is study. Then the week is over but they can't relax, because the next week they have exams. By the end of the school year, the class is exhausted and really uses the summer break to relax.<br /><br />I have found Spanish school extremely difficult to adjust to. I had a very easy schooling life, where I worked, but also had time to relax. I was in a grade that was small, where I was friends with everyone, and we were all close. I have about 180 people in my grade here in Spain, and I can barely remember the names of 30 of them. The differences between my schooling experience in Australia and Spain are startling. Completely different. And it has made me realise how much I really loved school in Australia, how blessed I am to have been brought up in a school where we are treated with respect, and our teachers are our greatest supporters. There is one teacher in my Spanish school that keeps on lowering the grade of my classmates when they are talking to each other or to me about the work they are doing, trying to achieve a better mark and understand the work better. They are extremely well behaved, yet the teacher seems to out to get them (is that how the phrase goes?). I feel extremely saddened for them, as they have to struggle against their teacher to work to the best of their ability, where in Australia, my teachers were there to help me in every way possible. I feel like I had a great relationship with my teachers, knowing I could talk to them about schoolwork but also other troubles I was having. Some of my funnest memories of school are with my teachers that I have had over the years.<br /><br />In saying all of this, Spanish school is fun. I really enjoy it. But I can now fully appreciate the way Australian schools are run. We may still have a lot to improve on, but coming and living here, and experiencing another education system has made me realise that although flawed, Australian schooling is really good. I think also going to a Christian school; a school based on a faith has been incredibly influential in my life. Being able to express my faith there, being able to pray in class, to discuss matters of Christianity in class, to share something deeper than an interest in Emily Dickinson and Tim Winton, of the Spanish language, the beauty of art with my teachers is something I will always be thankful for.<br /><br />I suppose this post is to thank my teachers.<br /><br />So thank you. Thank you to all the teachers I've had, that have taught me not only about Gaudi, Pericles, suffixes and pronouns; but also about the way to live a life for God, to live life honourably and thankfully. Thank you to all of my teachers that have been my supporters, those that have cheered me on and encouraged me in all that I strive for, for going above and beyond in helping me. Thank you to my school for being more than just an institution of education, but for bringing people in that have become my closest friends.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiEmqueGpzEnfGnvN1yf9R2HOCJjXTmMfrNJxgZYOPFN9EFyDMnkZ9R4Qr43JL5ren5sOD3oS9yOMRtfnQ8gE87FRaFeX_uJnIguTIj0uKYdza4KmYJyhtXJ4ploDyap3Yb4c_bDYdO3s/s1600/P9300618.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiEmqueGpzEnfGnvN1yf9R2HOCJjXTmMfrNJxgZYOPFN9EFyDMnkZ9R4Qr43JL5ren5sOD3oS9yOMRtfnQ8gE87FRaFeX_uJnIguTIj0uKYdza4KmYJyhtXJ4ploDyap3Yb4c_bDYdO3s/s320/P9300618.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544644081087650130" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">My English class on my last day of school.</span></p> <p style="font-family: arial;font-family:lucida grande;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span></span></p>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-60169377074011342222010-11-17T09:09:00.000-08:002010-11-28T05:02:59.087-08:00Pollyanna and Winter Leaves.A couple of weeks ago, my Mum was cleaning out her bookcase when she found an old copy of the book, Pollyanna, that had been given to her aunty in 1949, making the book 61 years old. All my life, Mum has told me about Pollyanna, and how much she loves the story and the 'Glad Game'. I have watched the movie, but never read the book, so Mum suggested we read a chapter of the book each day. I'm absolutely loving it. I feel so special that I am being able to share something so dear to Mum with her, and I am loving listening to her read the book, putting on voices of all the different characters.<br /><br />For those of you who don't know what Pollyanna is about:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">"Even after having lived the hardscrabble life of a missionary's daughter all her life and seen the loss of both parents, young Pollyanna Whittier refuses to be depressed. Instead, she must be glad about anything she can think of, and it's paid off big time. Now, however, she must go to live with her cold, spinsterish aunt in a town inhibited by embittered, unfriendly souls. Can she use her glad game to win over everyone and transform the town?"<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The 'glad game' is central to the book, and my favourite part. Everyday Pollyanna finds something to be glad about, even when there doesn't seem to be much good around her. I am having so much fun reading a chapter everyday, I've absolutely loved it. I was thinking about the time that I have left in Tudela, and how there is still so much that I want to experience and discover. So I have given myself a challenge:<br /><br />I will play the 'Glad Game' for my remaining 29 days that I have left here in Tudela. Discover and be glad about something new, everyday and document it here on my blog. I plan on putting something up everyday, something that I'm glad about, so that you may get to know Tudela a little more, and start to play the 'Glad Game' as well. My posts may be long, short, even just a sentence, but I will do my best to write everyday!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm94rXJLDhbN4NmzMIDPXFIEhySbUce3n498DosbGvRjwyxc_tJhUJJpmY-AqBVv1lTSi3LqtEfPMXJMVE-bayv3Gn43D6fxsqkczSmM3lInWMZvvTf14iFvx00LV5l4FejP7Fi-wb1yc/s1600/DSCN0705.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm94rXJLDhbN4NmzMIDPXFIEhySbUce3n498DosbGvRjwyxc_tJhUJJpmY-AqBVv1lTSi3LqtEfPMXJMVE-bayv3Gn43D6fxsqkczSmM3lInWMZvvTf14iFvx00LV5l4FejP7Fi-wb1yc/s320/DSCN0705.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544585002310422834" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_aZO5QYGnkHAkkPXMJNAqEzoUdlm6QTNYmgK0rJ0Qjd-MNkTcmJZWCGxBU9PQwA2VPpcEMaEe7Gmj1NHDDsE0W4SzQQCe8pTnHb0AU36J1Ne1pJdKtcYDa1IzV-EeJiTIqQKyj9elab8/s1600/DSCN0681.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_aZO5QYGnkHAkkPXMJNAqEzoUdlm6QTNYmgK0rJ0Qjd-MNkTcmJZWCGxBU9PQwA2VPpcEMaEe7Gmj1NHDDsE0W4SzQQCe8pTnHb0AU36J1Ne1pJdKtcYDa1IzV-EeJiTIqQKyj9elab8/s320/DSCN0681.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544584989099555858" border="0" /></a><br />I love leaves. love the changing of the leaves' colours, the collection of the fallen leaves on the ground, the clean, fresh, crisp air. I love the colours they make, and the way they seem to liven everything up, on a cold winters day. Here in Spain it is still Autumn, my favourite season of the year. I went for a walk this morning, with my gloves, beanie, scarf, ipod and camera. It was a fresh morning, with frost on the ground and covering the cars. I absolutely love this time of year, and the changes that take place.<br /><br />I walked around Tudela, aimlessly, just breathing in the cold air, watching my breath float away, looking at the trees and the town I have for this year called home. I have less than a month in Tudela before I go and travel around the south of Spain and Europe. Walking around today made me realise just how much I love Tudela, how much I love the people in it, the way of life, the oldness of it. I didn't know how to feel, because I felt incredibly sad that in 29 days, this would no longer be my home. I may come back to visit it, but it will never again be my home the way it has been my home this year. I walked through my town, through the Plaza Nueva, past my coffee shop, turning left, turning right, discovering new streets, watching the people, feeling extremely content and happy, so glad that I had been given this opportunity, this town, this year. I will leave, and that will be incredibly sad, but I still have 29 days left here. 29 days in which I will be exploring, discovering, falling more in love with this town.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicRgKFeb7ASwilaJQr9q3HGL4iKohF-iUJ_PiKfJR_xFsg8jhLu3LyroYFge1LytPR4sG62ixBj_oisk0W1BtleoJef38G1Xx7YgJAbk0j5gdUvgQDJdDl51SJfH5Qu7TpW2t36M-6EsU/s1600/DSCN0679.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicRgKFeb7ASwilaJQr9q3HGL4iKohF-iUJ_PiKfJR_xFsg8jhLu3LyroYFge1LytPR4sG62ixBj_oisk0W1BtleoJef38G1Xx7YgJAbk0j5gdUvgQDJdDl51SJfH5Qu7TpW2t36M-6EsU/s320/DSCN0679.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544584976188786770" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcghyF0lPVooy9dtH4Nmyil51tXG_WMciCeO1DBf-cUj_dfTYyyBfwR6KLGUCRdRWIR9w3CRAhRyCLCBQDh0PjJyrJPeDuGK-a8qdBwDfwMtLMGrTurL4ykLedpciKDa77JO3j9TxzQs4/s1600/DSCN0678.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcghyF0lPVooy9dtH4Nmyil51tXG_WMciCeO1DBf-cUj_dfTYyyBfwR6KLGUCRdRWIR9w3CRAhRyCLCBQDh0PjJyrJPeDuGK-a8qdBwDfwMtLMGrTurL4ykLedpciKDa77JO3j9TxzQs4/s320/DSCN0678.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544584969516312194" border="0" /></a><br />I am glad for the autumn leaves, the frost on the ground, the familiar and unfamiliar paths that are here in Tudela. Most of all, I'm incredibly glad that I still have 29 days to live here, to go and have coffee at my coffee shop, speak Spanish on a daily basis, and be Spanish for these next couple of weeks.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg66YH59OXd7HTaT8A3bxXtCmqNZVzWRgNKK8LbrM-tED8Iy3LgheRuUxyER4A96mdb3JWQVfM2eMdlgMnz4WZQnIL5AAaNXW95z9jEaw1Gir9QEE8_ZxqvNXdgTKG9qSCSihoamGit8Tw/s1600/DSCN0694.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg66YH59OXd7HTaT8A3bxXtCmqNZVzWRgNKK8LbrM-tED8Iy3LgheRuUxyER4A96mdb3JWQVfM2eMdlgMnz4WZQnIL5AAaNXW95z9jEaw1Gir9QEE8_ZxqvNXdgTKG9qSCSihoamGit8Tw/s320/DSCN0694.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544584991813963522" border="0" /></a>Park near Javier's school.<br /></div><br /></div></div>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-90034007152102270412010-11-11T08:27:00.000-08:002010-11-17T00:51:36.121-08:00Nan and Gramps.It was almost 3pm, almost time to go home, and I was daydreaming about how I would be with my grandparents this time in a week, when I got a text from my Gramps saying, "We are in Barcelona. Text back ASAP." I snapped out of my dreams about what we'd be doing in a week, and instead stared at the message, wondering what it meant. Had they changed their minds and come a week early? Were they staying in Barcelona a week before they came to Tudela? Or, did I get the dates mixed up? Not knowing which it was, as soon as the bell rang, I ran out of class, texted them back, and they quickly replied saying they were just picking up the car and would be in Tudela in about 3 or 4 hours. I got my answer: I had mixed up the dates. <br /><br />Oops. <br /><br />I rushed back home, wondering how my host family would cope with the knowledge that my grandparents were coming a week early. Luckily they were fine with it, and I relaxed a little. But I still felt very shaken up. I hadn't seen my grandparents for nine months. Nine whole months. And I was going to see them that day, unexpectedly. I felt like I needed some mental preparation, to get my head around that people so important to me were going to see my town, my host family; my life for the past three quarters of a year. I had expected that I would have another week to prepare myself, but was only given three little hours.<br /><br />I felt nervous. Showing and bringing people into what you now call 'home' is a little daunting I find. It's incredibly exciting, but also daunting. I wanted to introduce them into my town, for them to walk through it and experience it the way I do. To fall in love with the small little streets, the lady who serves me coffee every day, the river, the Jesus statue. To see my town through my eyes. I felt nervous that they wouldn't see that, or like it. But, I felt relaxed, knowing that they would like it, because it was my town, my life.<br /><br />At seven I was eagerly waiting for them to arrive.<br /><br />At seven thirty I was waiting for them to arrive.<br /><br />At eight I was impatiently waiting for them to arrive.<br /><br />At eight thirty I called them.<br /><br />They were lost.<br /><br />After a few calls and many wrong turns, they finally made it into Tudela, but to the other side. After a couple of minutes, I called them back and told them to go to the main street and I'd pick them up, taking them to my house.<br /><br />I raced up to the main street, and was hopping about, mainly out of excitement, but also because I was cold, when I saw them. They were driving down the street, so I started to wave and did a little scream of excitement for them to pull over. They didn't pull over. I started chasing them down the street, and they quickly pulled over. I opened the door and gave Nan and Gramps a big big hug. We hopped in the car and started driving towards my house, and they told me that they heard me rather than saw me when they pulled over. It was so lovely to be in their company again! When we arrived home, I introduced them to the family, but as they already had visitors over, we had a quick dinner, headed downstairs and caught up on each others lives. It was so lovely to see them again, and really made me realise how blessed I am to have such active, fun, loving grandparents.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPfGMWjJxC9Kkfx07fKuWWsF_XNhJPhID5Oc62_NQz9oL29UJ4j7ksnost_NOalv2HjG0VeYh3fe6piRhLMNfSytMet0ELbE1VvB9Ry-v3eISlNJZD25WuIzttW6x4tcUTFapBEeuqQiU/s1600/DSCN0240.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPfGMWjJxC9Kkfx07fKuWWsF_XNhJPhID5Oc62_NQz9oL29UJ4j7ksnost_NOalv2HjG0VeYh3fe6piRhLMNfSytMet0ELbE1VvB9Ry-v3eISlNJZD25WuIzttW6x4tcUTFapBEeuqQiU/s320/DSCN0240.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538335212318883202" border="0" /></a>Nan and Gramps outside my house.<br /></div><br />The next morning we woke up, had breakfast and made our way out to see the town. We walked along the river, through the old town, to the Cathedral, where the kids do music, and to my coffee shop. We sat down, had a coffee in my usual seat, and had a nepolitana, a chocolate croissant like sweet that I love. It was just lovely to be able to share these little things with them, for them to be a part of such an important year and stage in my life.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDkUYj4VjmOKXldcRXuNjFLbYY4OOoC_zb31BpGdO-uF_0_UIbTzU6YglVHPL16Cy0ekvWgbnRb1QFpOVKBaZSC6JLRyHyL5drd-QEAMu47Xqvz9LXNO23aAjPhA5zL8EPCImcaVwLah4/s1600/DSCN0241.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDkUYj4VjmOKXldcRXuNjFLbYY4OOoC_zb31BpGdO-uF_0_UIbTzU6YglVHPL16Cy0ekvWgbnRb1QFpOVKBaZSC6JLRyHyL5drd-QEAMu47Xqvz9LXNO23aAjPhA5zL8EPCImcaVwLah4/s320/DSCN0241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538335478175413906" border="0" /></a>Us having a coffee at my coffee shop.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">We then walked up to the Jesus statue that overlooks the whole of Tudela. It was a stunning view, and had been something that I had been really excited to share with Gramps especially, because I had seen it to be a place that we could paint together later on. This was followed by lunch at Bar Aragon, a cafe in the main square of Tudela.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwFbPP9YNnQEe2FmfOv9BVih6aXL1qj0d5mswFc78ReWZBnRIn0_1KHRGG8Nmm9uG2RnWbudpll0thSGNCbtwflIuyKkqlN8LkWpEk7NEo6cpoLG_d6ZY0MFwrBzGCqHmihfSOxrN7wsQ/s1600/DSCN0243.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwFbPP9YNnQEe2FmfOv9BVih6aXL1qj0d5mswFc78ReWZBnRIn0_1KHRGG8Nmm9uG2RnWbudpll0thSGNCbtwflIuyKkqlN8LkWpEk7NEo6cpoLG_d6ZY0MFwrBzGCqHmihfSOxrN7wsQ/s320/DSCN0243.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538335727068172610" border="0" /></a>Lunch at Bar Aragon.<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />It felt so normal for them to be there, to be sitting in a cafe that I have spent many hours at, sharing conversation over a beer and lunch. I'm sitting here quietly grinning just at the memory.<br /><br />We spent the rest of the day relaxing, enjoying each others company, planning the rest of our trip. Nan and Gramps had a week in Spain, so we decided to make the most of the week and the rental car they had. We decided on two days in Zaragoza, a city that I often visit, two days in the Pyrenees, and two days in Barcelona.<br /><br />We headed off the next morning, with bags packed, smiles on, and excitement rattling about. We got to Zaragoza with no problems at all between myself and the GPS assistant, fondly named Matilda. Gramps had a few arguments with Matilda over the issue of speeding, as she would kindly remind him, "You are over the speed limit", to which he would disagree.<br /><br />After arriving in Zaragoza, we had to move the car, which resulted in a quick tour of the city, due to Matilda giving us wrong directions, stressful city driving and getting our left and right's confused! After a good half hour, we finally managed to park about three blocks away, and made it back to the apartment safe and sound. We headed out, walking through the Paseo de Independencia, through the old town and to the Basilica del Pilar. When it reached lunchtime, and everything was shutting down, we went and bought some food, came home and relaxed for the rest of the night. Nan and Gramps had brought English books, which were like treasure for me, having not read an English book in months. I would wait until Gramps had finally fallen asleep before quietly reaching over and plucking the book from his hands as he slept away peacefully.<br /><br />The next morning we headed off to the Palacio del Aljafería, an old Islamic palace that I had visited earlier on in the year. On our way, we walked through the old winding streets, filled with culture and made me smile with how blessed I was to be able to walk through this city as a local, knowing it's ups and downs. As we arrived at Aljafería, we saw people holding up signs on the other side of the road, and police. As we went to enter the palace, we were told that it was closed for government business. It was a little disappointing to not be able to go in, but we were still able to walk through the park and see the garden.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWt57NYHyorOQNHPvRMA_ZQds5FXCJ3RAVCbNM3XAvfQJS5wxCYlsLbhCQoF6-_8IKoJ66I04znhxWgRHIei4azIWMhscZD3KZHHWJR_g_YdUawhvz9iYcslhoT4m2zL48VeANUW45uz8/s1600/DSCN0263.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWt57NYHyorOQNHPvRMA_ZQds5FXCJ3RAVCbNM3XAvfQJS5wxCYlsLbhCQoF6-_8IKoJ66I04znhxWgRHIei4azIWMhscZD3KZHHWJR_g_YdUawhvz9iYcslhoT4m2zL48VeANUW45uz8/s320/DSCN0263.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538335982839161170" border="0" /></a>Gramps and me outside the Palacio del Aljafería.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">We walked back toward the Basilica del Pilar, and had a coffee con churros in a cafe outside of the plaza. It was lovely to just sit down and talk, chat away about trivial and important things, making me feel delighted about the joys of family. We ended up really enjoying the cafe, so came back for dinner as well, as they had a great deal for a three course meal for 6 euros each. Definitely well worth the money and a nice way to finish our little trip into Zaragoza, having dinner right in the centre of the city.<br /><br />The next morning we got up early, packed out bags and headed out of the city, heading towards Huesca. We arrived in Huesca, a city of about 100, 000 and were pretty dissapointed, so left to go towards Jaca, right on the French border. Leaving the dry and arid country of Tudela meant a completely different style of countryside, which was absolutely stunning.<br /></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPLUjsoPIzCaFDmPGCKZDMjxKFODCu4d7ZV4uZ5z8FTKiKbZHuoWioPOMBPa0qMnHT5Rtzd085Nzvs4WviKEq7Z-dWkxAMOR_oWrisWhN0XJPdqxhV0RVrdCc24B045-aheCgGTG15f34/s1600/DSCN0336.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPLUjsoPIzCaFDmPGCKZDMjxKFODCu4d7ZV4uZ5z8FTKiKbZHuoWioPOMBPa0qMnHT5Rtzd085Nzvs4WviKEq7Z-dWkxAMOR_oWrisWhN0XJPdqxhV0RVrdCc24B045-aheCgGTG15f34/s320/DSCN0336.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538336292807952626" border="0" /></a>Rigos de los Mallos<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">It was filled with mountains, rock formations and green valleys with rivers and was absolutely gorgeous. Something that I loved as well, was Nan and Gramps at each little stop; taking out their cameras, filming, the typical tourists. It made me remember how fun it is it to be a foreigner, to travel and explore. When we in Tudela my host family could not get over the fact that Nan and Gramps walked everywhere, that they didn't use the lift in the house, that they still went on holidays, gallivanting around the world. I don't know if it's just with my host family, or Spanish culture in general, but they see growing old as a curse, that once you hit 45 your life is over. I am glad that I have such active grandparents who are so eager to conquer the world, and that are still living life, rather than just sitting back and watching, thinking their life is over. I want to grow old and still live young, just like Nan and Gramps!<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_ANjSZR5RnLljN2TSMkKIjoGXZpVnRa0KFur5euM3c4uj6sYTuqRe32SNfaTijHAsaa9ozOgCBc1zNLnuKInr5CYD7R-YtetWuhQw5-T_TyNeGIqmTGZm1JP_ZiRDrbLj7OfLftzcfg/s1600/DSCN0355.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_ANjSZR5RnLljN2TSMkKIjoGXZpVnRa0KFur5euM3c4uj6sYTuqRe32SNfaTijHAsaa9ozOgCBc1zNLnuKInr5CYD7R-YtetWuhQw5-T_TyNeGIqmTGZm1JP_ZiRDrbLj7OfLftzcfg/s320/DSCN0355.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538336611555957506" border="0" /></a>We headed up to Jaca, stopping along the way at a couple of different places, enjoying the spectacular views.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">We decided to stay in Jaca, a sweet little town on the French border, at a hotel right in the centre of the old town. That weekend there was un concurso de tapas - a competition of sorts of tapas. For those of you who don't know what tapas are, they are small dishes to accompany a glass of wine or beer. Normally when you buy a beer or wine, you get a complimentary tapa. Some examples of tapas are <a href="http://www.cocina.org/wp-content/uploads/Croquetas-de-at%C3%BAn.jpg">croquetas</a>, <a href="http://goodiesfirst.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451b77469e20120a52b181c970b-pi">patatas bravas</a>, <a href="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:_B13VrWNKp4VWM:http://www.c.invazores.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/1352439197_48bc37fc1c.jpg&t=1">tortilla de patatas</a> (click on them to see photos). They are extremely delicious, small and appetising, filling you up quickly. Many Spanish people go bar hopping, eating these tapas as their meal. So for dinner that night, we ventured out, went to a crammed bar, had some tapas. They were quite yummy, but we didn't get to choose what we wanted as they laid out their best tapa, and we had to vote. It was a lovely and traditionally Spanish way to end a lovely night!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7nYc2ZGwB7nHbMIWyZng6C9bOQQVFyagknly3ZWNoHKvsi_kkTVVrtY768RBO2Ih4HOWDwpNhyxnet7USMDmwKovSr4q5ui-C-EKv7hDr2WSWbgf76b3ypp0TN2FiNQnyUk9c-eDRhzc/s1600/DSCN0375.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7nYc2ZGwB7nHbMIWyZng6C9bOQQVFyagknly3ZWNoHKvsi_kkTVVrtY768RBO2Ih4HOWDwpNhyxnet7USMDmwKovSr4q5ui-C-EKv7hDr2WSWbgf76b3ypp0TN2FiNQnyUk9c-eDRhzc/s320/DSCN0375.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538336938804813698" border="0" /></a>Jaca by night.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">We woke up at about 8am the following day, the Saturday, and left at nine, to find no one out on the streets.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaSeZv8gqfeYGIMg81xofHxd1lhF2DXj4Z6-NuAT2Lvo0QaGFtdVKhmCnJzSmwFDMXeeK0aU1KMlpj7CxFBsuqSxqPYfsLy7RVPdFvQR8oYhQMEAeurFS5oRsFgyJjmWG2gfUiiW1q46w/s1600/DSCN0392.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaSeZv8gqfeYGIMg81xofHxd1lhF2DXj4Z6-NuAT2Lvo0QaGFtdVKhmCnJzSmwFDMXeeK0aU1KMlpj7CxFBsuqSxqPYfsLy7RVPdFvQR8oYhQMEAeurFS5oRsFgyJjmWG2gfUiiW1q46w/s320/DSCN0392.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538337298324134770" border="0" /></a>Us on the deserted streets of Jaca.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The Spanish aren't known for their early mornings! We hopped in our car, and headed off towards the east. We wanted to get to a small town called Aínsa, and along the way we saw some gorgeous views along the way. When we arrived at Aínsa we saw that it was a small town on the top of a hill (like most Spanish old pueblos). We drove the car up to the top of the hill, and entered into the quaintest, little village. The main plaza was beautiful, and they had an old horse and carriage that you could take around town. Of course, the lady driving was smoking and talking (yelling) to everyone she passed. Spanish stereotypes are often very similar to the actual people of Spain! We sat outside one of the bars, and Nan and I had a shandy whilst Gramps had a beer. We were chatting along, when suddenly we heard a series of extremely loud bangs. It was incredible - such noises! The were so loud! We realised that there was a wedding, or some event happening, and they were letting off fireworks in broad daylight, in the middle of the plaza. Every couple of minutes another set would go off, seemingly louder than the next. We took this as our cue to go, so headed back to the car to continue on our journey. About ten km away from Aínsa we saw a small township, that advertised food. Being hungry, we decided to stop there and enjoy the view. The town consisted of one hotel/restaurant, and we quickly sat down eager to eat. In Spain most bars have a 'menu del dia' - menu of the day, which is run all day and consists of a first plate, a second plate, a drink, dessert, and bread. I'm a vegetarian, so I haven't had a need for knowing what beef or lamb or veal is called. So, I had a little trouble ordering the food for Nan and Gramps! Gramps wanted Lamb, and I had no idea what it was called. So, I instead called it, "el carne de ovejas" - "sheep meat". Of course, I had to confuse the poor man even more, but getting ovejas confused with orejas. Instead of saying, "I want sheep meat," I said, "I want ear meat." The guy looked at me for a couple of seconds like I was crazy, before realising what I said and correcting myself. As I retold the story to Nan and Gramps we were introduced to a Dutch couple who were also eating there. After chatting for a while, we found out that they were the owners of a bed and breakfast in a small town that we had visited to try and find some food, that we thought was deserted. They owned a 16th Century abbey, that had been restored to become a bed and breakfast. Of course, Nan and I jumped at the idea to be staying in such a historically interesting place. After a little bit of convincing, Gramps agreed, and we headed off to the small town. This town was also situated at the top of a hill, and Gramps was a champion as he drove down the so called 'streets' to finally find the old abbey nestled at the very back of the town. We found out that town was not abandoned, but had 14 or so residents. Small towns, pueblos, were extremely popular years ago, and were populated all the time. As cities became more important, the children moved away to study and to live, only coming back to the pueblos during the summer. This meant that many pueblos died, as there was no one there to live in the houses, as they had all moved to the cities. So many towns are now empty, slowly decaying, as the people move to the bigger cities, whole communities and towns being lost. There are some, now, where people are coming back and restoring their old houses, and using them as holiday homes, meaning some of these dead towns are slowly coming back to life. The small village we were in had 14 residents, some doing up the houses, some retirees, but mostly just empty. The views were spectacular, and we had a quick (!) tour around the town.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW6CjOsPUzkMVqzGTd2_zvBEHJnF_CjJ-46p-EmszP94Cvlmd0tvcscpelMU5m6W3b_YYKJwfmkygxPfMG9fJvFigaV_ctSo76boPGK5nSQEW_kwS2Yrycp2f_U32vCToOQGKM6qvSQjg/s1600/DSCN0480.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW6CjOsPUzkMVqzGTd2_zvBEHJnF_CjJ-46p-EmszP94Cvlmd0tvcscpelMU5m6W3b_YYKJwfmkygxPfMG9fJvFigaV_ctSo76boPGK5nSQEW_kwS2Yrycp2f_U32vCToOQGKM6qvSQjg/s320/DSCN0480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538337546149721874" border="0" /></a>View from the village we stayed at.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The abbey was absolutely gorgeous, filled with small doorways, wooden roofing, stone walls. Everything had an old feeling to it, that each thing had it's own story to tell. We were given the honeymoon suite, that had a double bed and a single bed, a living room and a bathroom. I thought it was just stunning, and made me so happy that we had decided to stay there for the night.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXXjrFLcIjCZgKMLUQRjgmADUrA5QByUtWWq-b_SoGvRsiEN_oRZZkJYJUoH9Edf9s-IygWHofPC2hKe2hQGCvY2uChKsuFofPxn9yLVHkWNDpHw-7FOjesUcRZ-oX5D6JRKJdXlEM53Y/s1600/DSCN0492.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXXjrFLcIjCZgKMLUQRjgmADUrA5QByUtWWq-b_SoGvRsiEN_oRZZkJYJUoH9Edf9s-IygWHofPC2hKe2hQGCvY2uChKsuFofPxn9yLVHkWNDpHw-7FOjesUcRZ-oX5D6JRKJdXlEM53Y/s320/DSCN0492.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538337788253024066" border="0" /></a>My bed in the abbey that we stayed at.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">We left early the next morning to start to head toward Barcelona, and took a scenic route to get there. It was such stunning countryside (I seriously cannot remember the word I mean, all I can think of is paisaje!), filled with so many colours and stunning rock faces. I really loved seeing this side of Spain, as where I live, in Tudela, is on the edge of a desert, so it is quite dry and arid. Seeing the greenery once again, made me fall in love a little bit more with Spain, and with the countryside, the wide open spaces.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgtRosYdSEjRGZ9fvcZZmpUlNwLMbQAUgLKh0vIQuZlrvvJEuhn-le6rt1b5a51T4cg_yZphhCi5Vi0mG8CkZZjrvqdxjB6DGfK-7waLFEbtHDQDDSQQukQ-xt1G6jEYxxXzpSW09yto/s1600/DSCN0518.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgtRosYdSEjRGZ9fvcZZmpUlNwLMbQAUgLKh0vIQuZlrvvJEuhn-le6rt1b5a51T4cg_yZphhCi5Vi0mG8CkZZjrvqdxjB6DGfK-7waLFEbtHDQDDSQQukQ-xt1G6jEYxxXzpSW09yto/s320/DSCN0518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538338092990949826" border="0" /></a><br />The water was amazing. Because of the snow, the rocks give way and make their way into the water, turning the water into an opaque green-blue colour. It was mesmerising to look at, and added a surreal type feel to what we were driving through.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uv6cZfG90favVUhRFGW56SHpRmMWAnGPZw8f49aTwO7tYcuGi-iA2F75rZUh3Aqa39neFnmzSSkPABjGuZBSB90-I8ibzVKUPDB4C90FRGXJFATEHrOWjrTRduN1N4CPsbnTMwvi-9E/s1600/DSCN0541.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uv6cZfG90favVUhRFGW56SHpRmMWAnGPZw8f49aTwO7tYcuGi-iA2F75rZUh3Aqa39neFnmzSSkPABjGuZBSB90-I8ibzVKUPDB4C90FRGXJFATEHrOWjrTRduN1N4CPsbnTMwvi-9E/s320/DSCN0541.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538338377098401954" border="0" /></a>Gramps and I on the drive.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">We slowly came down the Pyrenees, and as we did, we said goodbye to the mountainous ranges and colourful lakes. I fell asleep, and before I knew it, we were driving into Barcelona! We got a little stressed about finding a hotel, as we didn't have one planned and none of us really knew where we were going. After a couple of roundabouts, pulling over, re-entering highways, we finally made it to a town about twenty minutes out of the centre of Barcelona. We found a hotel straight away, parked and sat down on our beds and sighed, "Aaahhhh." We had made it. With stomachs grumbling, we went and tried to find a restaurant. Being a Sunday, absolutely nothing was open, bar a Chinese restaurant. After a filling meal, we came back to the hotel and rested for the night, anticipating our arrival into downtown Barcelona the next morning.<br /><br />Matilda is not to be trusted.<br /><br />Matilda, our handy little GPS, wasn't equipped for the road works that plagues the Barcelona roads. After getting into a little flurry, we quickly became lost, and had to park with our hazards on as I got out and asked a few people how to get to Las Ramblas, where Nan and Gramp's hotel was. After finally getting some directions, we headed off and quickly realised how heavy traffic was, and the difficulty there would be to unload our car of its luggage, try and find a park and check into the hotel during peak hour traffic. We turned on our hazzards, and we all jumped out, throwing our bags into the hotel, hoping that the car wouldn't be hit or towed away. The concierge quickly told us where to park, so Gramps drove the car around the corner to a small lane, and left me to guard it, and deal with any problems that arose while they checked in. As soon as Gramps left, a line of vans came up behind the car and started honking, telling me to move the car. Oops. I quickly hopped out and said that my Grandpa wasn't there, that he'd have to wait for him to come back and move the car. They weren't too happy about that, as there were about 4 vans that were backing up onto the main street of the Ramblas, causing a small traffic jam. They kept on telling me that we couldn't park there, getting more and more agitated, so I quickly called Gramps telling him to come that second to move the car! About two minutes later him and Nan came rushing down, we quickly hopped into the car and drove off. We dropped off the car at the rental place and relaxed over a cup of coffee. We then caught the metro to the Sagrada Familia. This was my third time to the Sagrada Familia, and it was still stunningly amazing to me. There was a heap of people there, so Nan and Gramps didn't want to wait to enter, so we just stood outside and looked. It was really nice to come back and see the Sagrada Familia, as it was something that I had studied in art, and was something that seemed to take my breath away every time I saw it.<br /></div></div></div></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig8-gSoOzTWc_GP2JApcswYl3dRdpmYts-ygzZI7GJ8qsRwE88nS-iiYBHXVc3PwpymYM9tRGrYJ1Rn_6iKFesc1QGI5dTUdldkmnxa_E12INPbcWaSP9d-Z9yIsalum1-C2OOpnEMJQc/s1600/DSCN0554.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig8-gSoOzTWc_GP2JApcswYl3dRdpmYts-ygzZI7GJ8qsRwE88nS-iiYBHXVc3PwpymYM9tRGrYJ1Rn_6iKFesc1QGI5dTUdldkmnxa_E12INPbcWaSP9d-Z9yIsalum1-C2OOpnEMJQc/s320/DSCN0554.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538338707066936162" border="0" /></a>The Sagrada Familia<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Before we knew it, it was time for lunch, meaning that my time with them was nearly up. We walked along Las Ramblas and quickly found a restaurant that satisfied our tastebuds. We reminisced over a couple of beers, and I realised that not seeing my grandparents for another four months was going to be easy. I had already spent eight months without them, these next four months would go quicker than I could imagine. We left the restaurant with full stomachs and full hearts, as we headed back to the hotel for a quick rest before I left for Tudela.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7HnPJRPjzO-cblHXDzh_763lWhpZgghfiQ5c8zr4TpDOW0UXb-B81QRrYDnykFikMil3Q9fBRcw4jh18E9NdeLefok1DXTQZOjIomycDWMRJ2GxRb49DH3CPGQ-DpRxhOiiP_FlHLGRo/s1600/DSCN0561.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7HnPJRPjzO-cblHXDzh_763lWhpZgghfiQ5c8zr4TpDOW0UXb-B81QRrYDnykFikMil3Q9fBRcw4jh18E9NdeLefok1DXTQZOjIomycDWMRJ2GxRb49DH3CPGQ-DpRxhOiiP_FlHLGRo/s320/DSCN0561.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538338973351894914" border="0" /></a>Nan and I at the restaurant with our 'shandys'.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Before I knew it, it was time to head home. I said my goodbyes, and headed off to the train. I was grinning the whole way home, feeling extremely blessed for the family I've been given. Talking to them, a month later, they now know where I mean, when I tell them I'm going for coffee at my coffee shop, or going for a walk to the bridge and back. I had the most lovely week, exploring and discovering an aspect of Spain that I hadn't seen before. <br /><br />It is now November, Christmas is coming soon, and with that, winter. It is currently around 5 degrees outside, and rainy, and I'm about to head off to school! With only about 80 days left of my exchange, I'm really getting ready for my trip home, and my travelling that I'm planning on doing later. <br /><br /><div class="verse">Romans 3:4-5<br /><p>More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, </p> </div><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-3521537340784994082010-10-27T11:23:00.000-07:002010-10-28T09:15:16.702-07:00Fiestas Del Pilar<div style="text-align: center;">Fiestas are a big deal in Spain.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRm-_U_WEcxfOeG36aQtaTQvysQGCgAmtxqofdTcbXbH3c6I6jHy0PFpSHT2PF_Grk_bJy3us2oVGphXrRYlcUn8-DigB_7cyHA6nHrO4mQfNvy3mE65uBBaoFX2eY7UEXh-U-y9Q5sZg/s1600/DSCN0051.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRm-_U_WEcxfOeG36aQtaTQvysQGCgAmtxqofdTcbXbH3c6I6jHy0PFpSHT2PF_Grk_bJy3us2oVGphXrRYlcUn8-DigB_7cyHA6nHrO4mQfNvy3mE65uBBaoFX2eY7UEXh-U-y9Q5sZg/s320/DSCN0051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533111418069452162" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />I often feel like Spanish lives revolve around fiestas, hoping to go to as many fiestas <span style="font-size:100%;">as they can in a year. I often ask one girl in my class what she is doing doing for the weekend, and she often replies with, "Well... there are fiestas in my town, so..." I often am asked what the fiestas in my town are like. When I tell them that my town, my dear Glenbrook, has one big fiesta a year, during the Spring, that starts at 8am and goes through till 3 pm, they stare at me like Australians are crazy. Spanish fiestas are something that has to be experienced. They have this great sense of celebration running through their blood, through the soil of their land. There are fiestas for the smallest of things, and the smallest of towns, and the last three, four, five days. They are filled with long nights, no sleep, patriotism, and lots of noise. Fiestas are not something that they do to celebrate their lifestyle, their culture, their country. Fiestas are their lifestyle, their culture, what makes their country so unique and different.<br /><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUL-HAue7zgzQbnIPw5KRm809xSaYrChm1HldRJ0VZG0ewgWH7hMvPTvu_rmq8rIFqkrMgzipKld7hWDKVZHnADFMJEAmGJUuaSev1cOfxQfX5N8evv4mV8y7vx1o4kDfs-ICRs1NyAnM/s1600/DSCN0137.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUL-HAue7zgzQbnIPw5KRm809xSaYrChm1HldRJ0VZG0ewgWH7hMvPTvu_rmq8rIFqkrMgzipKld7hWDKVZHnADFMJEAmGJUuaSev1cOfxQfX5N8evv4mV8y7vx1o4kDfs-ICRs1NyAnM/s320/DSCN0137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533114633462242130" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">Two weeks ago was the Fiestas del Pilar. As I have already explained in previous blogs, Pilar is the saint for all Hispanics, and is situated in the Basilica del Pilar in Zaragoza. It is celebrated as their national day, or I should say, week. I was lucky enough to go to Zaragoza for seven of the nine days that it was celebrated.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiILbEPcVjAh94m3bUSA9OfcbSr3xARxv7oAmco-B7FlSQlZ_Zr_fAsk7F_8800DL83SEIIP31GOoIe4Ou24CPiBOOQisSq1L70LqIBD4PI1ykZzXH9jw-2avbQYRzNoCj8ZH8MfT8gTbs/s1600/DSCN0065.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiILbEPcVjAh94m3bUSA9OfcbSr3xARxv7oAmco-B7FlSQlZ_Zr_fAsk7F_8800DL83SEIIP31GOoIe4Ou24CPiBOOQisSq1L70LqIBD4PI1ykZzXH9jw-2avbQYRzNoCj8ZH8MfT8gTbs/s320/DSCN0065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533111988604040802" border="0" /></a><br />Basilica del Pilar in Zaragoza.<br /><br /></div><span style="font-size:100%;">We arrived in Zaragoza on Saturday afternoon at around lunchtime, where we had lunch with the <span style="font-style: italic;">Yaya</span>, the grandma. After spending a good couple of hours feasting on good food, and relaxing, watching the autumn leaves dance in the wind, we headed off to the apartment, and were bombarded with noise. I read in a book I bought about Spain, that youth suffered from hearing impairments more than a lot of other countries because of the noise they make. In school, out of school, during fiestas, there is always something going on. (Except for Sundays!) There is always a constant noise - music, yelling, singing. The apartment that my host family has is situated perpendicular to the main street in Zaragoza, where all of the different things were going on. Surprisingly, I slept quite well! The next few days were spent relaxing in the mornings and going out in the afternoons, watching everything that was happening. There was an abundance of music, from all over South America, dancers from around the globe, markets, food, lots of things to keep us occupied. On my adventures out into the celebrations, I immediately noticed that all the teenagers were wearing the same things.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqvabVKoaZTQFDkpmpQT9Ey9tjgy1POmUVlQiVhzFIKcN2v6INLNB3k4Cxmm2qLqkwipSBHMfeoj6B1pJUorCsczvvDJph8U1AQA_YNJLp0L25zTYopK7LunpmQZp-y58GfKte3BFfsWs/s1600/DSCN0019.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqvabVKoaZTQFDkpmpQT9Ey9tjgy1POmUVlQiVhzFIKcN2v6INLNB3k4Cxmm2qLqkwipSBHMfeoj6B1pJUorCsczvvDJph8U1AQA_YNJLp0L25zTYopK7LunpmQZp-y58GfKte3BFfsWs/s320/DSCN0019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533110359449340050" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">They all seemed to walk around in groups, wearing what looked like painting overalls, that were painted on, drawed on, written on. It was so unusual for me, as everyone (in Spanish everyone is said as <span style="font-style: italic;">todo el mundo</span>, which directly means the whole world... little bit of trivia!) I saw was walking around looking the same. When I asked María and Ana about it, they said that that was what everyone wore all the time. This baffled me as well. I soon began realising that they, too, wore matching jumpers that often had their name printed on it, or the name of their <span style="font-style: italic;">cuadrilla</span>, their group. After some more investigation I realised that they didn't actually wear it all the time, as in every day, but only during fiestas. <br /><br />Something that is different to Australia, and I assume a lot of other countries, is their markets. In Australia, my favourite part of a market is the food section. There are often food markets, or lots of little stalls with different types of food at Australian festivals. I have so many fond memories of going to markets, and having lunch there; a spring roll from the stand with all Chinese food, an Egyptian pancake from that small stand in the shade, a smoothie from the fresh fruit stand, some Thai noodles from another stand, a garlic naan bread for afternoon tea. I associate food with markets, with festivals. A conglomeration of food from all over the world, a variety of tastes, an array of colours. In Spain, it isn't like that. They sometimes have some food stalls, but one stall may sell a leg of ham, another cheese, another chorizo, and another sweets. But they don't often sell meals, or things that we can try, small portions of things. At Zaragoza, they had some food stalls that sold things like jam or honey, that you could try, so I went along and ate the tiny pieces of bread dipped in honey, the spoons filled with different combinations of jams... It sufficed, but made me miss an Australian aspect of markets and festivals.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VH9CzXadEtjQafUVYT6nIoWp3QKOEkLKm9EYJTmHyWX-KL5qfwnkjiivfKjd01DKqdXEpNpwKjtK1DuStPWQnmrlUNrqmGVwFooqKyjnQaXiKsA4VVliSj3-31sLjbom1LAK5XOcL2E/s1600/DSCN0033.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VH9CzXadEtjQafUVYT6nIoWp3QKOEkLKm9EYJTmHyWX-KL5qfwnkjiivfKjd01DKqdXEpNpwKjtK1DuStPWQnmrlUNrqmGVwFooqKyjnQaXiKsA4VVliSj3-31sLjbom1LAK5XOcL2E/s320/DSCN0033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533110616893866306" border="0" /></a>I really enjoyed the entertainment aspect of the Fiestas del Pilar. All along the Paseo de Independencia, the main street, there were musical groups from all over Spain and South America, as well as dancers and percussionists. I spent a great deal of time watching these groups, listening to famous Spanish songs being sung in Spain, by Spanish people. It was really amazing and caught me off guard, making me think, "Wow, here I am in Spain, hearing these songs that I learnt the Spanish colours and days of the week to." This group on the left were really great. There was a cafe right next to where they were playing, so I'd bring my diary along, have a coffee and relax listening to them play.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP7AtzXS9bFy6ROJHm-eZg6droyZVwTxS8bSVPgeEP53vJyG6CLdK2EoQ-oAdQ0a3Rh4gbb_eXo_RkNFPTBjssganXm0T8ju06wP43rBJYqdl1CTsPZ2lGld3DexZ3pEXUugt1jCSmpoo/s1600/DSCN0048.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP7AtzXS9bFy6ROJHm-eZg6droyZVwTxS8bSVPgeEP53vJyG6CLdK2EoQ-oAdQ0a3Rh4gbb_eXo_RkNFPTBjssganXm0T8ju06wP43rBJYqdl1CTsPZ2lGld3DexZ3pEXUugt1jCSmpoo/s320/DSCN0048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533111156483778834" border="0" /></a><br />One dance group. As you can see, there were lots of people that came along and watched.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKyFRg521VC9QJhrEYDhT7UH3b8ktjPcCM_MaHW9SY97CPzC1Hqg4kQ_ZFAiGCIhaV8mOUPfQVjn1SCu32dzM60RIHi9xuzg48tYmNdZci6v4atoYs6mRl3fcHiBpPVldrqtaRwRx4RFA/s1600/DSCN0082.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKyFRg521VC9QJhrEYDhT7UH3b8ktjPcCM_MaHW9SY97CPzC1Hqg4kQ_ZFAiGCIhaV8mOUPfQVjn1SCu32dzM60RIHi9xuzg48tYmNdZci6v4atoYs6mRl3fcHiBpPVldrqtaRwRx4RFA/s320/DSCN0082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533112406999818786" border="0" /></a><br />Percussionists playing to a crowd of people.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">These celebrations go on for the whole nine days, but the main day, the day that is celebrated all over Spain, and not just in Zaragoza, is the 12th of October. The 12th of the October is the day where the people offer flowers. Inside the Basilica del Pilar, there is a statue of the Virgin Mary. She is sometimes given a dress to wear over the statue, and she will only wear that dress once. The dresses are extravagantly made, and are very beautiful, with strong colours and delicate stitching. She has thousands of dresses that have been made for her. Many people offer flowers, and the flowers end up making the dress of an enlarged statue of the Virgin Mary. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcviCO469TESwUdcMb054yDOD6HUBDMhO9ZfwTCDyjWKwBdzWNNXxmIJEwt0qL3zlLqjWNmtW7kHP1xwfBr1rMXpvTIp5fxbju4-A5BKRZTNAR3ZUbVWWILf1_RxBYYnCaqwg-JYHhOok/s1600/DSCN0126.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcviCO469TESwUdcMb054yDOD6HUBDMhO9ZfwTCDyjWKwBdzWNNXxmIJEwt0qL3zlLqjWNmtW7kHP1xwfBr1rMXpvTIp5fxbju4-A5BKRZTNAR3ZUbVWWILf1_RxBYYnCaqwg-JYHhOok/s320/DSCN0126.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533113803941352386" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />The 12th of October was an incredible day, that showed a great insight to the history of Spain and how they dressed. Everyone dresses up on the 12th of October, in traditional dress. This is a tradition that goes back around sixty or seventy years. Sixty years ago, the Spanish wore different clothes, obviously, than today. They had clothes for working, for going out, for church, for weddings, for at home, etc..., and for fiestas. The clothes they wear today, are the clothes they wore for fiestas. Each province wore a different style dress, but they stay true to the clothing back then. María and Javier dressed up on the 12th, with tradtional Zaragoza clothes. María wore a necklace that was fifty years old, a scarf that was 125 years old, a skirt that was decades old... everything that she wore had been worn first by a relative during those times. I was blown away by the completely different style of clothing it was, and the accuracy it held to what they really did wear.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8iU7OOxPdUbiZmImXrIBgSliLaVrJbGfNJhMGfB6_LaTK-sU21xmK-asCRDam1cqtoj5wXgkoHjm9jaPnJeqyFxII-RObgeyssWw4Fy79qvwjpNuwpFo-usHxbZImg8VMvQGHyHFy-TU/s1600/DSCN0110.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8iU7OOxPdUbiZmImXrIBgSliLaVrJbGfNJhMGfB6_LaTK-sU21xmK-asCRDam1cqtoj5wXgkoHjm9jaPnJeqyFxII-RObgeyssWw4Fy79qvwjpNuwpFo-usHxbZImg8VMvQGHyHFy-TU/s320/DSCN0110.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533113276032230834" border="0" /></a><br />Javier and María in their traditional dress, with their flowers to offer.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">There were thousands of people offering flowers, all dressed up in the traditional clothing, and I loved it!<br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48snU4UT7ATJPGNbkQxJqhNM-37O0xbssaV_yfWRq6-QdWHylVmvCwhnKwoY0-eOvSptYL67vPjKeEqY9n5k0dDn8OVTL4yuhKO3nvcvMNKNFG1B0dQexYvx6spsohOQdPtp899QMeho/s1600/DSCN0117.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi48snU4UT7ATJPGNbkQxJqhNM-37O0xbssaV_yfWRq6-QdWHylVmvCwhnKwoY0-eOvSptYL67vPjKeEqY9n5k0dDn8OVTL4yuhKO3nvcvMNKNFG1B0dQexYvx6spsohOQdPtp899QMeho/s320/DSCN0117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533113546254307266" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div><div style="text-align: left;">Each different province has a different traditional dress, some which have become quite famous that you may recognise. I highly recommend you looking up on Google the traditional dress of Andalucia and Cataluña, so you can see the variety in the traditional dress. It was fun to be able to know where people had travelled from by the very different way they all dressed. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia1VGHM6arGsIFcpJqARRf0HxxGVcGYc78QFf-yL-e00MAa3GAGvi0cRZWbKVz83jLdMJYJRawFv91o3EQC_R_mM247U3R_7dyK_XNUNxXhJ3G1hYA8Tv3iCWHoaHEFHkyKLQQotxvqSY/s1600/DSCN0135.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia1VGHM6arGsIFcpJqARRf0HxxGVcGYc78QFf-yL-e00MAa3GAGvi0cRZWbKVz83jLdMJYJRawFv91o3EQC_R_mM247U3R_7dyK_XNUNxXhJ3G1hYA8Tv3iCWHoaHEFHkyKLQQotxvqSY/s320/DSCN0135.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533114340379075922" border="0" /></a><br />This photo is of the Virgin Mary and her 'dress' of flowers. As you can see, a lot of people didn't dress up as well! <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />I really enjoyed being able to see another different part of Spain, and participate in another one of the innumerable fiestas! <br /><br />I have been kept busy since then, as my grandparents from Australia have visited me! We went on a little trip, which you will soon hear about.<br /><br />Apart from that, I have been attending school, and have been really enjoying it. Saying that, I really feel restless. It is such a weird feeling, knowing that I have three months left of my exchange, which will go really quickly, and then I'll be in Australia. I am beginning to understand how little time I have left, and how I need to keep grabbing everything my exchange has to offer with both hands. Exchange is not easy, but I think I've been given an extremely incredible year. Here I am, in another country, living a culturally different life as a local, speaking a different language and gaining a second home along the way. Some days are great, where I don't have trouble speaking, where I feel like I'm progressing everyday, and other days where I feel like I haven't improved at all and that I should just pack up and give up. The excitement of the adventures, the family, the friends that await me in Australia are so alluring, that I need to tell myself often to focus on the now. On the today. On Spain, and what it has to offer. Before I came to Spain, I was petrified of the whole year aspect of the exchange. I thought that a year would mean that when I came back everyone would be gone, that everyone would forget that I existed... that if I left, I wouldn't come back to the same Australia. I can't say that nothing has changed and that it'll be like I never left, because I don't know that yet. I don't know what going back will be like. All I know, is that there was no reason to be petrified. There is no reason not to go for the year. I will have Australia for many more years to come (I hope!), but I will only ever have Spain, this experience, this time of my life once. That is a blessing that I still don't comprehend. This year has been the perfect year for me, filled with so many good times, so many challenges, so many events that have made me grow up a little. So many times where I've realised how much I need God in my life, how I need to follow Him, and celebrate the life He has given me. Life here in Spain has shown me a new type of celebration, a new type of joy, a celebration that is as old as this country, a joy that is as strong as its people. A joy that I pray I've been able to bring into my life, so that when I come home in February, I'll be able to have a little bit of Spain and the people I love dearly with me. There is a warmth here, that I love. A passion for life, a sense of 'eat now, work later', that both infuriates me and makes me laugh. Spain is filled with contradictions. Spain makes me angry, frustrated, but also content and joyous. Australia will, hopefully, be seen with news eyes. Eyes that have come from a country that celebrates everything, enjoys everything, that loves everything, that is passionate. I hope I will be able to see Australia with these things in mind.<br /><br />Sometimes I wish I could bring Tudela back to Australia. It would make things so much easier.<br /><br /><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-54785298264860028172010-10-06T07:59:00.000-07:002010-10-09T03:31:56.133-07:00Jumbled.<style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I've tried to write this post about four times, each filled with jumbled words, senseless sentences, and nothing from my heart. Trying to explain my week last week isn't what I want to do, because I didn't enjoy last week at all. Last week was filled with both bad and good, as does every week and everyday in each person’s life. For me however, the bad outweighed the good, and I spent a great deal of the week in tears. Why, you may ask? One word that every exchanger will be thoroughly familiar with: homesickness.<br /><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I don’t really want to dwell on last week, as it wasn’t a very nice week for me. I was hit with a bout of homesickness, stronger than any other that I've ever experienced before, and spent a great deal of my time crying.<span style=""> </span>It was a hard week, especially because my host family didn’t really understand why I would be homesick, and neither did the other exchange students.<span style=""> </span>I wanted and needed comfort, and felt like I couldn’t get any.<span style=""> </span>It was a sucky week, something that I don’t wish to repeat again.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Being homesick sucks.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I started writing this blog post, planning on going into every detail of how I felt, and everything that I did.<span style=""> </span>I want my family and friends to know that exchange is difficult, and that there are things that don’t always go the way we’ve planned.<span style=""> </span>I want to describe to you that sick-in-the-stomach feeling you get, where you can’t eat, can’t think, without wanting to cry because you miss everything, everyone so much.<span style=""> </span>I want you understand going through the emotions of having everything around you fine, but still feel horrible. <span style=""> </span>I had been feeling great, on top of the world.<span style=""> </span>I had friends, I could speak Spanish, I was happy with my family.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t understand why I felt so homesick, so pained, when everything was going fine.<span style=""> </span>I still don’t understand.<span style=""> </span>Understanding homesickness is important, but what I learnt from my week is more important.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I felt and still feel alone.<span style=""> </span>I am a Christian in a non-Christian area.<span style=""> </span>I have no Christian or religious friends, I don’t have a church to attend, and feel often alone in a place with no Christian fellowship, community or encouragement.<span style=""> </span>Last week I felt that I had no one, that I was alone, and had no one to comfort me.<span style=""> </span>My brother, Brad, sent me an email a couple of days ago that greatly brightened me up.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"><span lang="EN-US">“It must be really difficult being so disconnected from a church. God saves us into community and the body of Christ is so important for daily life following Jesus. Even though you're in Spain, it's important to know that you are not alone. That we are bound together in Christ and that you are a part of what God is doing all around the world as God has mercy on many.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;" align="center"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I so often complain about being ‘alone’ that I often forget that God is still always with me, that I still have my family and friends with me.<span style=""> </span>They may not be here in Spain, but they are always only a Skype call away.<span style=""> </span>Being on exchange, you often have to learn to be your own best friend.<span style=""> </span>Learn to enjoy doing things by yourself, and exploring where you live.<span style=""> </span>I think I do this pretty well, but there are always those times where you just wish you had someone to talk with, that has known you longer than your time in Spain.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">That week was a big eye opener to the fellowship I still have with my friends and family and the Christian community, even though I’m so far away.<span style=""> </span>When I was feeling incredibly homesick, I decided to write some poetry, and Hebrews 13:5-6 came to mind.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i style=""><span lang="EN-US">For He Himself has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." So we may boldly say: "The LORD is my helper; I will not fear. What can man do to me?"</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i style=""><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i style=""><span lang="EN-US"> </span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">It is so easy to feel alone, to be filled with fear and lose hope, even over the simplest and smallest things.<span style=""> </span>This verse is a huge encouragement to me, knowing that God will <i style="">never</i> leave me nor forsake me.<span style=""> </span>Exchange isn’t easy.<span style=""> </span>Homesickness isn’t easy.<span style=""> </span>Feeling alone isn’t easy.<span style=""> </span>But bringing everything back to God, and relying on him through everything changes it all.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">This is an extremely jumbled post as it’s been stopped, started, stopped, started, rewritten, and have had no idea what to write about or say!<span style=""> </span>Months of not writing does that to you, I suppose.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">This week has been somewhat better.<span style=""> </span>On Monday, we had a birthday party for one of my friends at school, as she was turning 17 on Tuesday.<span style=""> </span>We went to the movies and saw Charlie St Cloud (Siempre a Mi Lado in Spanish).<span style=""> </span>It was my first birthday party that I have been to since I’ve been in Spain, and the feeling of inclusion, acceptance, and friendship was overwhelming.<span style=""> </span>I am loving having Spanish friends, conversing with them in Spanish, telling jokes and understanding jokes in Spanish, and living the Spanish life.<span style=""> </span>This week has been a week of acceptance, as I am beginning to realize that my exchange year is winding down.<span style=""> </span>I have been speaking with Mum and Dad about my plans for the next couple of months, and they are filling up quickly!<span style=""> </span>I am hoping to travel throughout the month of January, though I’m not sure where or with who.<span style=""> </span>I have no idea where I am spending Christmas at present, as my host family may be overseas for the Christmas break.<span style=""> </span>I am having to start sorting these things out, which is both incredibly exciting and a little daunting, as it makes me realize how little time I have left in Spain.<span style=""> </span>There are 76 days left until Christmas, so I have at least another 76 days left in my dear Tudela.<span style=""> </span>Thinking of my time left on exchange in mere days is incomprehensible.<span style=""> </span>I came on exchange expecting Christmas to never come, that my wind down period would be far off in the distance, but I am beginning to realize that it is just around the corner!<span style=""> </span>In saying that, I still have a little less than four months until I touch down in Australia, which is a reasonable amount of time.<span style=""> </span>But time flies when you’re having fun!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I have also been getting excited for things that I’ve left behind; uni, friends, family, sleepovers, work, Bonnie, Church, driving, the smell of Australia, my bedroom, the small things I call home.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I feel like I am on the fine line of having so much left of my exchange, and the winding down period.<span style=""> </span>It is difficult to try and get my emotions in sync, and know where my head is meant to be with stage of my exchange so far.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">This past week I have had to tell myself to stop looking at the future, of my plans in Australia, the fun times to be had, the return to normality and Australian culture, and look at the present.<span style=""> </span>There are always things happening here in Spain and in Tudela, and I don’t want to miss out on these things because I am focusing on what will be happening.<span style=""> </span>This week is the equivalent of Australia Day. October 12 is the day of Hispanics.<span style=""> </span>It is the day celebrating all things Spanish and South American.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Zaragoza is a city about 45 minutes away from where we live, and it holds the Basilica del Pilar.<span style=""> </span>Pilar is the saint for all Spanish people, so October 12 is incredibly important there, and there are lots of activities happening this weekend.<span style=""> </span>I am going to be staying in the apartment that we have in Zaragoza, going to Bull fights, seeing Spanish dancing, going to free concerts, eating a lot of food, experiencing more Spanish culture.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Something that I love so incredibly much about the Spanish is their joy for life.<span style=""> </span>They celebrate in a way that is so unique and so lively.<span style=""> </span>I’m extremely excited to go and see the celebrations and take part in them, especially in Zaragoza, as Pilar is there.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /><span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I am about to head off, so I will leave it where I am.<span style=""> </span>Sorry for the lack of posting, the jumbled-ness of this post, and the lack of interesting things in it!<span style=""> </span>I promise that I will be writing more in these coming weeks.<span style=""> </span>I love writing in my blog, I love sharing what I have to share, but life often gets in the way. <span style=""> </span>(Or my laziness does!)<span style=""><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US"><span style=""></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="">I'll leave you with a verse that greatly challenged me this week. It is from Acts 5 where the Apostles are persecuted. They leave the town after being flogged and it says,</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US"><span style=""></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style=""><span style="font-style: italic;">"The apostles left the Sanhedrin, <span style="font-weight: bold;">rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name</span>... they never stopped teaching and proclaiming the good news that Jesus is the Messiah."</span><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span lang="EN-US"><span style=""></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="">Acts 5:41-42<br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /><br /></span><span style=""></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=""> </span></p>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-3246102433431102502010-09-21T12:22:00.000-07:002010-09-26T11:03:23.905-07:00Juventudes..<style>@font-face { font-family: "Times"; }@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }h3 { margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; font-size: 13.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }span.Heading3Char { font-family: Times; font-weight: bold; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">3 months.<br /><br />3 months without writing. What an amazing three months they've been. I have been incredibly busy, loving and embracing life, that my blog really became one of the last things on my mind. But, real life has once again started, and with that, my mind has been mentally writing this, eagerly awaiting to put my hands on this keyboard and recreate what I've been up to. I really have enjoyed writing this blog. It has made me realise how much I really do enjoy writing, they joy it brings me, and I'm glad I'll have this little memoir to look back on. I have about five blogs half written about my three-month holiday, and decided that I'd get stuck into this past week, before it finishes and I never get around to writing it! So, be prepared for more blogs, but for now, just know that these summer holidays have been amazing. I had the great opportunity to see much of Europe (France, England, Barcelona, Valencia, Madrid, Santander, Sweden, Latvia), and that I feel like my time away has enhanced and made me realise how great my life in Spain really is.<br /><br />So, this past week... the start of the all familiar routine, the start of school, the end of summer...<br /><br />I arrived home from Sweden on the Monday night at 11:30pm, after having woken up at 4:50am that morning, to originally catch a plane from Stockholm to Copenhagen, Copenhagen to Madrid. Because of different circumstances that I'll tell you about in later blogs, I ended up flying from Stockholm to Copenhagen, Copenhagen to Frankfurt, and then Frankfurt to Madrid. Four countries in eight </span><span lang="EN-US">small</span><span lang="EN-US"> hours. I had so much fun! But I arrived dead tired, sick with tonsillitis, and the last thing I felt like doing was going to school the next day. (Especially because my luggage had decided not to turn up at the airport and had no clothes!) So I slept in, and woke up nice and rested. It was so lovely to see my host family again, and be finally re-immersed into the lovely Spanish language. What a lovely language it is! At around 12pm, I went to school to get myself enrolled, but when I turned up they bluntly told me that there were no spaces for me. María Antonia was a bit stumped, and told me that I'd have to come back the next day, and if there were problems, to call JYC (Exchange organisation). When I arrived at school the next day, I heard that all-too-familiar foreign voice speaking Spanish. I glanced around and saw two blonde haired, blue eyed teenagers standing at the front office, speaking in Spanish. Every exchange student immediately loves other exchange students, as only other exchange students can really relate to what we go through. After chatting with them, I found out that they (Charlie, 18 and Aubrey, 16) were from America, and were here for a year. It was great that they were there, because the staff actually took care of us, and their host parents made sure I was given a place at the school. I left very content, looking forward to my first day at school!<br /><br />I rocked up at school at about 8:50am the next day, a little nervous, not knowing if I'd still have friends, if they'd even remember me... (I had spent the past three months away from Tudela, either travelling with my host family, or travelling on my own, so hadn't had the chance to reconnect with anyone back in Tudela.) We got registered, and were given our timetables (Charlie and I ended up being in the same classes) and we headed off to our first class, maths. The head of studies knocked on the door, and with my stomach full of knots, we entered and he introduced me, while I smiled slightly and quickly surveyed the room, to find, to my surprise that there were about 5 students from my old class! I quickly sat down next to a girl in the front row, and was amazed by how much I understood. I had been really nervous that I wouldn't understand anything (like last year) and not be able to follow anything. I was completely shocked to be able to understand more or less everything he was saying (and this was in <span style="font-style: italic;">maths!</span>). What a feeling it is, to see the language that is so foreign to so many people, click. To be able to understand a language with such ease. I'm pretty sure I had a huge grin all throughout maths, even though in Australia I hated maths, and didn't study it for the HSC. After the class ended, I got up and walked over to my old classmates, who seemed excited to see me, and we chatted about the summer. I could communicate with them with such ease, which was completely different from before the summer. Before the summer, I could communicate with them, but found it a huge struggle, and because of my lack of confidence in my language skills, I was quite shy. The next class started, and I could hear my classmates talking about how well I could speak, and how much I had improved. Oh what a joy it is to hear that. Thursday and Friday went swiftly, with me really enjoying the classes and the people and finally comprehending that I <i>can</i> understand another language.<br /><br />That weekend was the fiesta for Juventudes, the Youth Festival. I was invited by some classmates to go, so at 4pm I left the house and met up with Charlie, the American, and went to the <i style="">plaza de los toros</i>, the bull ring, where the fiesta was starting. The bullring is basically like a circular stadium, with the tiered seating, the bull fighting area, and the inside bit that’s underneath the tiered seating. All around the inside bit, under the tiered seating was a huge long row of tables that ran the full length of the circular inside bit, completing a circle, with 500 people sitting and eating. It was a crazy atmosphere with lots of singing, people being joyous. Nothing had started yet, as they were still eating, so I went with Charlie, his host mum, and host cousin, and we had a coffee. We got talking about her job, and it turns out she worked in Venezuela for a number of years, working within the impoverished communities, building them up. Her life story is an amazing one, and her career so much like what I want to be doing (and what I will be studying at uni next year). I could have talked to her for hours, and felt incredibly blessed to be have given the opportunity to talk to her. I hope to go out for coffee with her soon, and talk to her more about her work in Venezuela. When the festivities had started, we walked into the middle of the bullring, and I really felt like I had stepped into a movie. I stepped onto the bright yellow-orange sand, dust surrounding me. Spaniards, all wearing the traditional white clothing with the red pañuelos, surrounded me. Spanish music was being played, and I looked around and saw a part of Spain that is so <i>typical</i>.<span style=""> </span>That sort of typical, where when you ask someone to describe Spain, they tell you paella, forever summery weather, bullrings, flamenco, passionate, friendly people…<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />I spent the next couple of hours in that bullring, listening to two horrible comedians, dancing, and meeting new people.<span style=""> </span>I used to dread, fear, hate meeting new people, because I’d get ridiculously nervous and forget how to speak Spanish, and would just swallow my tongue and look like a stunned mullet.<span style=""> </span>Now though, I love meeting new people, talking Spanish, and just enjoying different people’s company.<span style=""> </span>I met a group of younger guys, who were friends of Charlie’s host brother, some uni girls who were all 21 (finally some girls my age!) and some other people.<span style=""> </span>It was really lovely to hang out with them, get to know them a little… although; it was a little difficult to hear anything apart from the music, as it was <i style="">so loud.</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><span lang="EN-US"> </span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">At around 8pm the event ended, so everyone made their way out onto the street, where a marching band was waiting.<span style=""> </span>There were hundreds of kids all walking down to the beat of the music, all singing a song (can’t remember the lyrics), singing, stopping, dropping to the ground, jumping up, all in unison.<span style=""> </span>It was this great big street of joyous celebration, and all I could think about was how much that I loved Spain, and the Spanish culture.<span style=""> </span>It was something that I hadn’t really experienced before, at least, that the new confident Laura had experienced.<span style=""> </span>Charlie and I went to his host brother’s cuarto.<span style=""> </span>A cuarto is a completely foreign concept to most people, so I’ll do my best to describe it accurately.<span style=""> </span>A lot of people have cuartos.<span style=""> </span>Normally you get a group of people together (For example, Ana, my host sister is getting a cuarto and is sharing it with 33 other people.) and rent out a room, an apartment or a small house.<span style=""> </span>These ‘rooms’, or ‘cuartos’ are normally run down, cheap, and not very nice.<span style=""> </span>They are normally filled with old furniture and are basically a place where the people come together to hang out, smoke, drink, and have fun without being in the open or in a home where you have to worry if you break anything.<span style=""> </span>I understand why people have them, but personally would not like to spend all my time in them, because I find most of them disgustingly dirty!<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">We weren’t at the cuarto for long, because it was about 10 pm and we were all pretty hungry!<span style=""> </span>We went to Telepizza (Telepizza is like Pizza Hut) and ate pizzas for dinner.<span style=""> </span>We still had some time to spare before the next fun bit started, so Charlie and I went to get a coffee at a bar.<span style=""> </span>I had a really nice time just relaxing, chatting, and before we knew it, it was 12:30, so we made our way down to <i style="">El Tubo.<span style=""> </span></i>For those of you who don’t know what <i style="">El Tubo </i>is, it’s a street full of bars where the kids go to drink, socialise, have fun.<span style=""> </span>It was Charlie’s first time down into <i style="">El Tubo</i> and he was incredibly shocked, as the legal age to drink in the US is 21, and <i style="">El Tubo </i>is filled of children as young as 13 years old!<span style=""> </span>While we were there, we met some people from our class, hung out with them for a while and had lots of fun making new friends.<span style=""> </span>After about 40 minutes, I turned around to see three of my really good friends that I hung out with last year in the same room.<span style=""> </span>I hadn’t seen them in three months, and was really excited to see them.<span style=""> </span>I hung out with them for the rest of the night, and felt so incredibly happy to have the friends that I have here in Spain.<span style=""> </span>Violeta, one of the girls, is still at school, so I hang out with her in the breaks, and it’s lovely to be with her as she is a genuinely lovely girl, who has a very kind heart.<span style=""> </span>I got home that night at 4:45am and posted on my facebook,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm; text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="font-weight: normal;">“Currently 4:45am and have just gotten home from literally 12 hours of dancing, socialising, and meeting new people. Loving Tudela so much right now, and the people that are in it! Loving having friends, finally feeling a sense of belonging, understanding Spanish... feel incredibly blessed with the life I've been given!”</span></i></span></h3><br /><br /> <h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:100%;" >I really do feel like I am living a different exchange experience after the summer.<span style=""> </span>I feel like I’m experiencing a different Tudela, a different exchange period.<span style=""> </span>Same people, same town, different experience.<span style=""> </span>And I love it.<span style=""> </span>I spent the past week at school, getting into the work, trying to do as much as I can, and I have to say that I’m really enjoying maths.<span style=""> </span>I don’t understand it all, but I am trying, and I think that’s why I’m enjoying it.<span style=""> </span>When we were in Sweden, Mum told me that I wasn’t bad at maths, and that I shouldn’t say that I’m terrible, as I have told myself these past couple of years.<span style=""> </span>So, now, I am just a person who doesn’t understand everything, but is trying.<span style=""> </span>And that’s ok for me.<span style=""> </span>(Anyone want to tutor me in maths?!)<span style=""> </span>On Monday I finished my antibiotics from when I was sick, and by Thursday I was sick again, so I have spent the majority of this weekend in bed!</span></h3><br /><br /> <h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:100%;" > </span></h3> <h3 style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:100%;" >I’m looking forward to get back to school, to learn more, speak more Spanish, make more friends and embrace the small time I have left in Spain.<span style=""> </span>I am continually surprised by the how quickly the time has gone!<span style=""> </span>I only have about three months left here in Tudela, before I go off and explore the world for a couple of weeks before heading home.<span style=""> </span>Crazy stuff.<span style=""> </span>Well, I’m off to eat my Spanish food with my Spanish family, speaking Spanish, and then will probably do some more Spanish things… because that’s what exchange students do in Spain!</span></h3><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />He only is my Rock and my Salvation; He is my Defense and my Fortress, I shall not be moved. <em><span style="font-weight: normal;font-family:Times;" >Psalm 62:6 (AMP)</span></em></span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><i style=""><span style=""> </span></i></p>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-82174903725420822812010-06-29T01:23:00.000-07:002010-07-05T07:50:13.625-07:00VacacionesThese past couple of weeks have flown by incredibly fast, including time to blog! A couple of days ago, I sat down to get started on another post (I think it was this past Monday... five days ago) and wrote this much:<br /><br />"Ok, so today isn't the tomorrow I was talking about in my last post, but, at least it's in the same week, not"<br /><br />when I hear a buzzing at the door, and real life starts back up again. Finding time to myself, now that everyone is on holidays, and everyone has the same amount of free time as me is becoming difficult! I am currently sitting in my bedroom, listening to the thunder roll over our house, as the clouds darken the summery sky, with the vuvuzelas humming in the background while I watch the Ghana against Uruguay game (currently 1-1!)<br /><br />I have been absolutely loving these past couple of weeks of holidays, relaxing, exploring, hanging out with Spanish friends...<br /><br />I finished school on the 11th of June, and from the 11th until the 18th, I was the only one on school holidays. I spent this time wandering around the streets of Tudela, having coffee after coffee, and watching the world cup, and preparing for Fiesta de la Eti! Fiesta de la Eti, is a celebration of the end of university (Eti is the name of the university in Tudela), and with this, the end of schooling for another year. Every year is made up of different classes. For example, in primero bachillerto (the equivalent of year 11) there were six classes, 1A, 1B, 1C,1D, 1E (my class!) and 1F. For Fiesta de la Eti, each of the classes have a class dinner, and then go to a botellón. Our class met at the Plaza Nueva for dinner at 10pm. Adjowa and I came at around 10:30, after finishing watching the world cup game of Ghana against Serbia... a disappointing draw. We had all previously paid 6 euros for alcohol, and then had a really cheap dinner (I had pizza... for 2 euros!) before trekking to a random (I really have no idea where we were!) little grassy spot to start our botellón. A botellón directly translates to bottle. It is where a group of people go to a specific place, for us it was the grassy hill, for others it may be by the river where I live, and socialise... After the botellón, we all made our way to El Tubo, which is a street in Tudela, filled with bars, where people can go and dance, drink and socialise. I left quite early, around 2:45 am, because I was heading to Madrid the next morning, but I had a really lovely time spending a good couple of quality hours with my class outside of the classroom.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgexL3RuI0tiIbyptu0WjWW2cRvRMBdFKIULy6I_g1qGOt6LasSfxZ3mbqeno6Rx3bGgPRvYNc8Jn9roG4uYzWV8YI-ioW5vY9UtaX5JiOIQ8mNNAuWWHV_2Cm2kk88ugQwb5z_DrwY9YY/s1600/P6190056.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgexL3RuI0tiIbyptu0WjWW2cRvRMBdFKIULy6I_g1qGOt6LasSfxZ3mbqeno6Rx3bGgPRvYNc8Jn9roG4uYzWV8YI-ioW5vY9UtaX5JiOIQ8mNNAuWWHV_2Cm2kk88ugQwb5z_DrwY9YY/s320/P6190056.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490426793836605154" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I got home at around 3, and was in bed and sleeping by 3:05! I slept like a baby until I heard my alarm clock waking me up at 5:50 am. A couple of days beforehand, my host sister told me that she was going to Madrid with her class on the Saturday, the day after Fiesta de la Eti. I immediately asked why, and was told that she was going to a theme park. For those of you who know me, I love going to things like Zoos, theme parks, going on adventures, so I immediately wanted to go with her... María Antonia (my host mum) was supposed to go as a parent helper, but she let me go instead of her. We left at 6:15 in the morning, and I slept the whole bus trip down there. I felt a little out of it, cause I didn't really feel like one of the kids, as I'm 8 years older than all of them, but not quite one of the adults. At the park it was scorching hot, and because of the bad weather we'd been having, I had dressed in pants. I sat down, rolled my pants up, joined to the group of María, her two friends and the parents of her friends, and started wandering around.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbS4D4n_0A5CCBx0yPbNWy_E48KxPMgnXEbCXEVYCxV-Mgx-P0OMG4StFXOCGIWWUdlhDJPvPDrU2JOF_du4XvleRBjg9Tzf0qJLBQ8_JzF9GUD2h1y1zfZIpTnx-zyp7izxCMpdwzEPs/s1600/P6190082.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbS4D4n_0A5CCBx0yPbNWy_E48KxPMgnXEbCXEVYCxV-Mgx-P0OMG4StFXOCGIWWUdlhDJPvPDrU2JOF_du4XvleRBjg9Tzf0qJLBQ8_JzF9GUD2h1y1zfZIpTnx-zyp7izxCMpdwzEPs/s320/P6190082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490427242488178930" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr5ifvlL2wudfVaUPt_Sxt7GvcDYSpkLfP161ijyGEhqDggNKD0biKhEvqaJ-vBvJw2mkCR2Rb_wqrgC72SAk8SAxViAl5CE9Hiw0KoPf6jd7e995CMXTAUaxV_juX6e6JeGiv1Xb_R40/s1600/P6190087.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr5ifvlL2wudfVaUPt_Sxt7GvcDYSpkLfP161ijyGEhqDggNKD0biKhEvqaJ-vBvJw2mkCR2Rb_wqrgC72SAk8SAxViAl5CE9Hiw0KoPf6jd7e995CMXTAUaxV_juX6e6JeGiv1Xb_R40/s320/P6190087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490426286112798114" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnLiB3NNYwICG4JZ-wIRqIIe7WNO2Ib8hi6jWnlgXipuDvIpIJL3lm0MnCmrYXKTp3ZLkdWxR86GYg8pPSxL9gbbyerC7u_sL_LI4D_hZ45I1Vnpn6Uzerkh_PQrH3ctbzKA7jKmfKn4/s1600/P6200142.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnLiB3NNYwICG4JZ-wIRqIIe7WNO2Ib8hi6jWnlgXipuDvIpIJL3lm0MnCmrYXKTp3ZLkdWxR86GYg8pPSxL9gbbyerC7u_sL_LI4D_hZ45I1Vnpn6Uzerkh_PQrH3ctbzKA7jKmfKn4/s320/P6200142.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490428886058918354" border="0" /></a>In Spain, when you go on wet water rides, you wear rain coats! No one bothers on getting wet, they prefer to stay dry.<br /></div><br />I loved going to Warner Bros. Movie World, as it reminded me so much of family holidays and of America. We went on the rides, watched the shows, ate greasy food, laughed and had fun. It was an extremely rewarding day, which I really loved, and a day where I got to speak a lot of Spanish, which was a really nice change! We ended up getting home at 4am in the morning the next day, 22 hours after we had left. How crazy that they return children home from an excursion at four in the morning!<br /><br />Since then, I haven't really done much, but hang out by the pool. My family are part of a club called Arenas, which I can only really describe to you as a country club. To give you some understanding of it, it costs 250ish euros per month to be a member of it. It has two pools, saunas, tennis courts, paddle courts, a gym, a cafetería, a ludoteca (childcare place) and I get to go for free! My pass is a pass where I can only go with the kids, so I go most days with a towel, some board games or card games, my book, my music, and a euro. I spend about four hours there a day, hanging out with the kids, swimming, sitting under the thatched roofed umbrellas, sipping my hot coffee, reading my book, enjoying the summer vibes. It really is lovely most of the time. My daily routine at the moment is getting up at 9, going to Arenas at around 10:30 or 11, come home for lunch at 3, relax a little then at five play with Javier, or go out with Ana or María, or go back to Arenas, go swimming in our pool, fit in a game or two of soccer, have dinner, talk to people back at home, and go to bed. Although it seems like a day of just relaxing, it is a full day of relaxing, all the time with other people, which can get a little tiring on its own.<br /><br />I have finally finished the sixth book of Harry Potter. A little sad I must say, as I now realise I only have one more book left in the series, and then I won't know what to read! Any suggestions anyone? SPOILERS: I still cried when Dumbledore died, but it made me smile that Spanish can still bring out such sadness, that I can understand, and understand what's being written and be affected by it, but in Spanish!<br /><br />This week will be a little different for me, as I'm preparing for my summer holidays to really start. I have been extremely blessed with a host family that has the travelling bug! This Thursday I am getting to go to the famous Running of the Bulls, also known as San Fermines. San Fermines is the festival celebrating the saint of Pamplona, San Fermin (San = Saint). It runs from the 6th of July until the 14th of July. We get to dress up in the typical Navarra dress, which is all white with a red scarf around your neck and waist. I'm really excited to be able to participate in such a typical fiesta of Spain and of Navarra. On Saturday, my host family and I are packing up house, and driving to France. I still can't get over the fact that I'm in Europe and that everything is so close. We can drive to another country! We will be staying in an area called Angers, about an hour and a half south of Paris. We will be visiting Paris, and eating French bread, and growing french mustaches. (I just had to look up the word mustache on the internet to see if mustache actually was the hair that grew on your upper lip... ahhh Spanish, what are you doing to me!) We will be staying in France until the 20th, when I will be travelling to England to visit some old family friends. I'm really excited for the next couple of weeks, and will definitely be keeping you updated in what I'm doing!<br /><br />I definitely feel like this year has been planned out and mapped out by God. There have been so many things that have happened, some that I've liked, some that I've definitely struggled with, but all have helped shape and grow me in a way that could have only been by God's hand. I feel so blessed to have been placed in this family, to have been challenged and to have felt so many emotions here. I have begun to understand what it is like being the oldest, and I only wish that every person could experience what I have: to be placed in a family completely different to your own, to be completely challenged by how you want to live, to be able to experience life through another culture, another language, another world view. I believe that exchange is an incredible opportunity, and is something that can only really be beneficial. I have been here for five months, and I am somewhere completely different to where I thought I'd be. I have been living for five months in a place where eating dinner at 11pm is normal, and I'm a little frightened to say the least, to enter back into the world of English speakers, and lunch and dinner at a reasonable hour for ten days before re-entering the Spanish culture. I don't know how it will affect me, if I'll prefer the Spanish way or the English way, or if I'll just fall back into my English ways straight away. I wonder if I'll be overwhelmed by all the English in England, or if I'll find it normal? I have all these uncertain feelings in me right now... which for me is exciting. I like the unknown. I like being surprised.<br /><br />This post has been extremely crazy and unjointed. It is now the 5th of July, my five month anniversary in Spain, and I started this post 10 days ago. But, I hope that within the jumble you can see a little glimpse of my life right now, and a little bit of how I am feeling, and the greatness of God, and how he has guided me through my life and this exchange thus far!laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-40547506726693642802010-06-25T13:59:00.000-07:002010-06-25T14:32:41.495-07:00World Cup Fever.3:47 pm.<br /><br />"Quick, quick, quick! The World Cup starts in 13 minutes!" We all scramble to the kitchen sink to help with the washing up of our plates from lunch (a three course meal... like usual). The clock ticks away quickly, as we rush to have cleaned up in time to watch the opening and first game of the World Cup.<br /><br />3:59 pm.<br /><br />We finally finish the dishes and run downstairs, turn on the t.v. and jump onto the couches, María, Ana and Javier arguing about where they are going to sit. "Shhh! The game's started!" They've kicked off, and we all watch with anticipation and excitement, twitching in our seats, excited for the game to unfold.<br /><br />4:15 pm.<br /><br />Laura looks around her, to find... no one. Just her, the remote, and South Africa and Mexico playing on the t.v.. She thinks to herself, "Isn't this Spain? The place that's crazy about football? The country that lives and breathes off football? Why is it then, that the only person watching the game, is an Australian girl, who is living in the country of football heroes?"<br /><br />This has pretty much been the World Cup experience for me.<br /><br />Sure, my family watch some of the games, but only those of Spain. I have been watching about one a day, excited, keen, loving the matches. I have an extremely close relationship with the t.v. Lot's of yelling, arguing, and throwing of popcorn. It has been a great experience for me, especially watching the Australian games, feeling proud of Australia and how awesome we are (ok... well maybe not with the game against Germany...) I got to watch the first Australia against Germany game with Mum! It was so much fun. Mum and I were on skype, watching the game together, getting annoyed together, dreaming up ideas on how Australia was going to win together. It was lovely to watch a game with a fellow Australian, to bathe in Australian pride and just generally enjoy watching the football with my Mum. I think what I loved the most, was listening to our Australian Anthem. We sounded so bogan! I loved our horrible singing, our extreme Australian accents, it made me feel so at home.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji7kn7o0n9-eImnOW4ogxYZCpbrbBEvDcCG-jHHbIov9TIn9GeTSOLte0mSCcvwgs4t6jfXu5YFHgg4vRwntN9E6xPvZsGjHLQDhMZkWBfXgPWn8CQ-u4btY3yVmOpe0JVMGYGs4nc_Q8/s1600/P6140062.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji7kn7o0n9-eImnOW4ogxYZCpbrbBEvDcCG-jHHbIov9TIn9GeTSOLte0mSCcvwgs4t6jfXu5YFHgg4vRwntN9E6xPvZsGjHLQDhMZkWBfXgPWn8CQ-u4btY3yVmOpe0JVMGYGs4nc_Q8/s320/P6140062.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486822091735602914" border="0" /></a>Mum and I on skype, watching the game.<br /></div><br />For the Spain against Switzerland game, Javier and I went to Jorge's (Javier's best friend, and where Adjowa was living) house. I got Javier geared up in the Spanish flag, and we walked over to Jorge's house. There, Jorge's t.v. was garnished with Spanish flags, and we all excitedly watched the game for the first half. After the first half, Javier and Jorge got bored, so went and played while Ajowa, her host parents and I continued watching the game.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4_OyhCQim-0Sl0XSfolI8UTLhjPNIK5XOFdnAF5Ezo0ZS9W7HsnvBF2EITEn7qV608q4HCD9DlaFgjjaAO-8Fg88oxYMX00nxElPGH2I-AG_m5A3USkPNBQmYP8Hwc_5GyI9sCeMgnXg/s1600/P6170064.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4_OyhCQim-0Sl0XSfolI8UTLhjPNIK5XOFdnAF5Ezo0ZS9W7HsnvBF2EITEn7qV608q4HCD9DlaFgjjaAO-8Fg88oxYMX00nxElPGH2I-AG_m5A3USkPNBQmYP8Hwc_5GyI9sCeMgnXg/s320/P6170064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486822513985973442" border="0" /></a>Javier wearing the Spanish flag. :)<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYOJxsFEDWykJcX3Kd_j0N8XIXElUyJFXocQALmohSiyLD9wQBsSwLgR76yhw5sZXddkGdqzrAYhnJRgyATthHtVuqHbWbeZ5oz1DM1IMms1a1lqjOevHZmJXtucT0_fm0M7nY5gNateU/s1600/P6170065.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYOJxsFEDWykJcX3Kd_j0N8XIXElUyJFXocQALmohSiyLD9wQBsSwLgR76yhw5sZXddkGdqzrAYhnJRgyATthHtVuqHbWbeZ5oz1DM1IMms1a1lqjOevHZmJXtucT0_fm0M7nY5gNateU/s320/P6170065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486822894644604242" border="0" /></a>Jorge's house filled with Spanish flags.<br /><br /></div>Fifa.com has become my favourite website, as I look at it all the time, seeing who is winning in each group, and thinking about stage two, and who will play who. I have absolutely loved being in Spain for the world cup. Although it may not be the experience I thought it would be, it has still been incredibly exciting, and I feel as though my love for football has definitely grown over the past two weeks!<br /><br />It's around 11:15pm on Friday night, and I've just finished watching Spain beat Chile, 2-1. Tomaaaaa!!!! The best thing about the world cup here in Spain, is that we are on the same time as South Africa, making the times very convenient, allowing me to watch more games, than if I had been in Australia. I'm so looking forward to the Spain Portugal game, as it should be a good one... maybe I'll go to a bar to see it?<br /><br />Anyway, just a quick update on the world cup, and a new blog tomorrow (I hope! Yes, I know, I've been absolutely horrible with the blog updates...)<br /><br />Just quickly, I've currently been reading about living a 'zesty' life... looking for the beauty in life, seeing God's hand in it all. Today, I went to Zaragoza, and spent around four hours in the centre of the city, by myself, just wondering around, looking at the shops, listening to the buskers, when I got to the Basilica del Pilar. I've talked about the Basilica del Pilar in some of my other posts, and it is the representative of all Hispanic, all Spanish people around the world. It's extremely important. I got there, and just stood, as I looked up at the beautifully architecture of the building, of the church. A woman behind me was playing the violin, so beautifully, and I just felt overwhelmed with the beauty God had presented me with. I hope I never grow old of seeing the beauty in things, and that I'll never look at things and at the world with nonchalance. Today, I ask you to look at the world and see the beauty in the small and big things. When I see beauty, I see art, I feel passionate, I feel zest. What makes you feel passionate, how can you live a 'zesty' life? It may be having a coffee with your best friends (Oh how I miss you April and Min!), watching the football, or for me, sitting at a cafe in front of the Basilica, having a coffee, reading Harry Potter, completely blissful that I'm in Spain...<br /><br /><span><em>Who out there has a zest for life? Can't wait each day to come upon beauty." Psalm 34: 12 (MSG)</em></span>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-43408498397319255122010-06-14T01:33:00.000-07:002010-06-14T03:20:33.743-07:00The ups and downs of learning a language."I. cannot. believe. it. It's June. it seems like yesterday was February... where did the time go? I'm currently sitting outside Javier's dibujo class, with some lollies, Jamie Cullum, and you, my diary. How is it already June???"<br /><br />These past couple of weeks, have been crazy, I don't know where they've gone! It's been a lovely few weeks though. It's Monday, today, and instead of being at school, I'm sitting in my living room, writing this, because I'm on holidays!!!! Quite exciting :)<br /><br />This week has been especially fun for me, as I've had yaya (grandma) stay with us. I have temporarily moved bedrooms to upstairs, and she's taken my bedroom downstairs. It's been fun, to have her in the house, and get to know her a little better. Yaya (or otherwise known as Carmen) is 79 years old, and is the cutest, most typical Spanish grandma I've ever seen. She is the cutest little old lady ever, with her cute little waddle of a walk, her wild white hair and her crazy Spanish. When she first came, at the beginning of last week, I could not understand one word of what she was saying. It would be like, "hugjskd a;lkdsjfaiwe rjisod f jkls e <span style="font-style: italic;">comer </span>alksjfiefje" (comer meaning to eat). So I would just smile and nod. Only, most of what she would say wouldn't be a yes or no answer. Haha, the life of an exchange student! But, now that it is Monday, I am proud to say, that I understand a lot more. I still nod and smile, bewildered most of the time, but I can converse with her! She talks to me, telling me interesting (often random and irrelevant) pieces of information. Yesterday, she went for a walk and said, "I almost walked a kilometre! Do you know what a Km is?" I nodded, and told her of course. She continued undressing, and replied, "If you know, you'll know that its... 1000...?" I quickly replied with metres, which made her happy. She is a very interesting character. On her left hand, she only has four fingers. I asked Ana (my host sister) why that was, and she told me that when Yaya was young, she was making bread, and she cut her finger off in the process. I feel like everday, I'm learning a little bit more about yaya, the fired up lady, who still believes she's 29, rather than a frail, 79 year old. Two years ago, she was like Peg from Woy Woy, she was around 5 foot 5, walked everyday, played tennis occasionally, but has really deteriorated over the last two years. She still has that fire in her, and it's lovely to watch her determined to do everything by herself. When I first met her, I was a little scared because I just didn't understand anything, or who she was. Now, I am enjoying her company, I look forward to our little conversations where we both act out things because we don't understand each other. She knows I'm not perfect at Spanish, and that's fine for her. It makes life a little interesting, for both her and myself. <br /><br />For me, I find knowing someone's accent is really important in understanding what they're saying. I struggle to have big conversations with people that I haven't really met before, if their accent is unusual or different. It takes time to get used to how they talk, and once I'm used to that, I can understand a lot more. My lengua teacher, Mari Carmen is from Andalucia, (down in the south of Spain) and speaks incredibly differently to the people of Navarra. <span style="font-style: italic;">Sei</span> is <span style="font-style: italic;">seis</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">cua</span> is <span style="font-style: italic;">cuatro</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">ta lugo</span> is <span style="font-style: italic;">hasta luego</span>... completely different, and in the beginning, impossible to understand. But now, I can understand a lot more of what she says, because I have gotten used to her accent, and now I can understand what ta lugo means.<br /><br />I am really enjoying understanding more of this language. It seems strange and unusual at times, and I often don't understand what is going on at all... but, that's fine by me. It almost feels normal to be sitting down, surrounded by language, not really getting what they're fighting about or discussing. I'm content with just letting the words, their passion, the way they use words to waft around me, soaking in the wonder of this language, and get to know it a little bit more. But then, on the other hand, I often am sitting there, not really listening, when I realise that I'm understanding what they're saying. I was talking to Juventud y Cultura, my exchange organisation and María Antonia, my host mum, about how I often I feel like I'm not learning, not speaking Spanish well, and about how frustrating it is to feel like I'm not improving. But they both told me that in the beginning of the exchange year, you will experience a great growth in language, you'll feel like you're learning all the time, and you'll notice the improvements you are making. Then you get to the stage where I'm at, where you've had the big growth of language, and now the improvements are much slower. You will continue to learn, everyday, you'll be learning more, but it won't be that big growth you've experienced before. It definitely gets frustrating, always feeling like you're not learning anything. But then you get those moments, when you're sitting down, understanding the conversation, talking to people about day to day things, understanding all of a T.V. show, when you realise just how far you've come. So, to all other exchange students reading this, or to-be exchange students, don't worry... you are improving! It will be extremely frustrating. Very frustrating. But, you will get there. Before I came to Spain, I had studied Spanish for two years. I think I came to Spain, expecting me to be fluent, knowing everything already. But, I came and was completely overwhelmed by everything. Everything was faster, harder, and just completely different. But in saying that, studying the language has been excellent, because I already know the grammatical background of the language. That helps a lot!<br /><br />Cartoons are a great way to learn the language. They speak in more simple terms, about simpler situations and is in general less complex than real life, and is much easier to understand. Now, when I watch cartoons, I understand it all, which is really fun. I do still have to concentrate hard to understand them, but the main thing is that<span style="font-style: italic;"> I understand them.</span> When I first came here, I barely understood anything. Something else that is extremely helpful, is watching movies you've already seen in your host language. I love re-watching all of my favourite movies with my host sisters, but in Spanish.<br /><br />I'm currently reading Harry Potter in Spanish, and I'm absolutely loving it! I can understand so much more now, so it's more of a relaxation, a joy to read it, than a piece of homework. It was through reading that I understood, that when everyone said 'A ver', they weren't saying 'Haber' (pronounced the same way, as V is pronounced as a soft B)... this had frustrated me incredibly, as it had been about two and half months of not understanding why they kept saying 'Haber' ('to have') at the beginning of every sentence. Then, I read 'A ver' (Let's see) in Harry Potter, and it all made sense!<br /><br />The downsides of immersing yourself in another language, is forgetting your mother tongue. I have only been here for four months, and this is something I struggle with so much! I sometimes sit here, writing this blog, or talking to friends, having to think sometimes for actual minutes about what the word is. I have completely forgotten the different their, they're and there, and often have to write them all down to figure out which one is best. Same goes for you're and your. This absolutely upsets me because it was something I hated people to get mixed up on (Josh Abbey!) and now I'm one of those people who gets confused! I'll often have to act out words that I can't remember, which often gets me funny looks from my family or class mates. It's exciting to think that I'm losing my language, as well as a little frightening. I have also fallen in love with some Spanish words, that I just in general prefer to use than English words, like pues, entonces, vale, pero, porque y por qué, lots of just joining words that just flow out of my mouth naturally. I love them!<br /><br />Did I think that my language would be better by now? Before I left, I thought that by June, I'd be fluent. Exchange is so completely different than I expected it to be. I have to speak English to my host siblings, so there goes a large amount of my speaking time, there's an exchange student (Adjowa) in my town, whom I speak English to, my class wants to speak English rather than Spanish to me... all of the factors make it incredibly difficult to speak all the Spanish I want, meaning that English is still my dominant language, even though I'm in Spain. Frustrating? Yes, incredibly. Lot's of tears, frustration, whining calls to parents, and desperate prayers to God. But, God has placed me in this position, where I am for a particular reason. I may not learn Spanish as quickly as I thought I was going to, but I am learning, and not just Spanish. I'm learning about honesty, patience, prayer, about giving everything over to God. I can pretend to give everything over to God, while I'm here on exchange, but honestly, without God, I don't know where I'd be. I am learning that without God, nothing is possible. It is through his grace that I am here, it is through him that I am able to experience this opportunity, and it has been excellent so far. Challenging? Yes. Exciting? Yes. Unforgettable experience? Definitely.laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-6042363347295574572010-05-29T03:22:00.000-07:002010-06-01T13:43:28.794-07:00Learning.I have learned many things while being on exchange, from small things like your wedding ring finger is on your right hand instead of left hand in Spain, to big things like knowing and trusting that God will pull you through every situation.<br /><br />Exchange is a process of making mistakes, laughing through the embarrassing situations, learning from them, and slowly feeling at home in your exchange country. There has not been a day where I haven't made a mistake or learned something. Sometimes it's as small as learning how to open a window, to discovering something about myself and the world around me.<br /><br />I love learning. I love knowing all these interesting facts, how to do things, and then being able to use them in 'the real world'. I think I was worried that this year I wouldn't learn anything. I think I felt that the word 'learn' only applied to school subjects, homework and exams. I came to Spain to be surprised. I have learned more about myself, the world, and God in these short three months than ever before.<br /><br />I often find myself in situations wanting to and making mistakes, 'embarrassing' myself, inorder to learn something new, the correct way to do things. I wonder what life would be like if I took this yearning and need to learn into everyday life (life outside of exchange) - how much would I learn? How far would I come if I put myself out there, willing and wanting to make the same mistakes I make here, unafraid of people's thoughts or perceptions of me? Would I learn more? Experience a different sort of life? I want to throw myself into this life I've been given and live it out, glorifying God in any way I can.<br /><br />This week Adjowa, the exchange student taught me something invaluable. Our class had an English exam, so we were sitting in the courtyard of the school, relaxing in the sun, listening to music, talking about coming on exchange; about being placed in different and new places, not knowing anyone. She told me, "You need to place yourself out there - you need to talk, cevome interested in other people's lives. People always say, 'Yeah but I'm shy.' Shy isn't a personality trait, it's a state of mind. Everyone has it in them to be bubbling with confidence. Talk. Be interested in them, and they'll be interested in you."<br /><br />It opened up doorways, opened my mind and challenged me. Here I was nodding in agreement, while realising that I had been telling myself that I had been shy. Shy to truly engage in people's lives, too shy to get to know them all properly. I needed to get out of this state of mind. It's not easy to tell yourself to completely change the way you have been thinking. I told myself to snap out of it, take Adjowa's advice. But the easy way of doing things, the familiar ways are always so tempting. I think exchange will always bring struggles and challenges, especially for me, speaking Spanish. I feel extremely challenged in being able to speak Spanish, and because of my lack of confidence in my language skills, I 'feel shy'... But, I know that making my language mistakes, I will learn, and become confident in speaking.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjo8vnpea28yha7dW6RfPWMZEP8FcxLGRw73VarXXmjZFSW7OZSeLqQ2Hkmz4OQSRqtfhEPyE870TB3aTv3qhyphenhyphen7IpMFPXn_uJxl2Nif6RHjjPrsAngK4PRYO1wJGC39Qnw8WI7kAiGIng/s1600/P5230107.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjo8vnpea28yha7dW6RfPWMZEP8FcxLGRw73VarXXmjZFSW7OZSeLqQ2Hkmz4OQSRqtfhEPyE870TB3aTv3qhyphenhyphen7IpMFPXn_uJxl2Nif6RHjjPrsAngK4PRYO1wJGC39Qnw8WI7kAiGIng/s320/P5230107.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477898559374227698" border="0" /></a><br />These past couple of weeks have signaled the change from cold to warm. The mornings are now 18 degrees, the days warming up to 28, 30 degrees, and I am loving putting on my dresses and walking through the old cobble stoned streets. I don't understand the Spanish. It's thirty degrees, but they still wear jeans. It's hard to try and assimilate to their culture, without dieing of the heat. Ideas? There is something about summer that just yells creativity. I have been reading a book called<span style="font-style: italic;"> 'Capture Thirty Days of Inspiration' </span>by Amanda Powell. It is a thirty day journey of creativity, finding the simple things in life, being inspired to create, and marvelling in God's creation. I have loved reading it and seeing all the wonderful things around me. Something that I have loved doing, something that I have found a love for in Spain, has been baking. Every weekend for the past month, I have baked something - mostly Anzac biscuits, but also cakes, brownies, lasagne... Seeing the bare ingredients and seeing what they've been turned into makes me excited. I don't like sweet things like cake, so I don't really enjoy eating the end result, but I enjoy seeing my creations being enjoyed by everyone else! It has been something that brings me great joy, and I am loving that my family really enjoys the things I make.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLddGT1hdBILXEm_VkUrJbm1Bc6-2aSrfgOfejaZXO5inhna2v6sOKAheYJjFs0C7nCvPgKL5u-DCOwkp_I6RsjT1AhiNDDX3dKd2jmXDoUPigNNBcxE_yJid4TZa1BUPZff_rXODAWh8/s1600/P5230137.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLddGT1hdBILXEm_VkUrJbm1Bc6-2aSrfgOfejaZXO5inhna2v6sOKAheYJjFs0C7nCvPgKL5u-DCOwkp_I6RsjT1AhiNDDX3dKd2jmXDoUPigNNBcxE_yJid4TZa1BUPZff_rXODAWh8/s320/P5230137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477898576991025874" border="0" /></a>brownies I made :)<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkNlr-PBaP8hrav40u64sS5eIGJEkGPRqEOJ8YSMdA4EbtK7YWUW19Yun-dn_IyON45jfGr0vqlk9d-Az99htBSmoVJ3wacz1DFQYZ8mdT_Bwh06AFMKn-yFLbEQR-Hc1BVsy0Ptp3hyI/s1600/P5230122.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkNlr-PBaP8hrav40u64sS5eIGJEkGPRqEOJ8YSMdA4EbtK7YWUW19Yun-dn_IyON45jfGr0vqlk9d-Az99htBSmoVJ3wacz1DFQYZ8mdT_Bwh06AFMKn-yFLbEQR-Hc1BVsy0Ptp3hyI/s320/P5230122.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477898572488404226" border="0" /></a>Anzac biscuits<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjm2GX8RaiOJY8X1sOEUAmLelSVV_cEmIP2VxARI2PQiM6Zx62w9uAmxCKnftvuKzYQ3jQiD5ARu9klmAjG4_O-FIp1gZbZnxOtXkcAKw4V3VpLzlTcxQRUR2zIBTpDkrIgaNUWNuJyjw/s1600/P5230119.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjm2GX8RaiOJY8X1sOEUAmLelSVV_cEmIP2VxARI2PQiM6Zx62w9uAmxCKnftvuKzYQ3jQiD5ARu9klmAjG4_O-FIp1gZbZnxOtXkcAKw4V3VpLzlTcxQRUR2zIBTpDkrIgaNUWNuJyjw/s320/P5230119.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477898563995857922" border="0" /></a>walnuts we cracked for the brownies.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPa2kHvlL5AKLH5IwMMJ4l9pkOL4heXQ4n4NR5noMaygnIR4886rTIgP2eU4ofAo8wQKyHyoaMXtHDg01tp-k-UBw8ClEtl4pmPz8Bq9s_CFDKEK-g8jo5oLyOSI3Ew2WV0L9n8x5JSQE/s1600/P5240031.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPa2kHvlL5AKLH5IwMMJ4l9pkOL4heXQ4n4NR5noMaygnIR4886rTIgP2eU4ofAo8wQKyHyoaMXtHDg01tp-k-UBw8ClEtl4pmPz8Bq9s_CFDKEK-g8jo5oLyOSI3Ew2WV0L9n8x5JSQE/s320/P5240031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477903836201323970" border="0" /></a>jasmine.<br /><br /></div>Summer makes everything smell fresh. Some of my favourite times of my days are in the morning, walking to school. My house is covered in Jasmine, my favourite flower, and I love walking out of my gate, inhaling deeply, immersed in my favourite smell, on a perfect crisp, summer's morning. I often feel creativity spilling out of me, wanting to stop and just look at the awesome world God has created. The other day, María and I went on a walk around Tudela. It was just beautiful. It was a lovely 28 degrees, and we walked along the river, toward the Jesus statue at one end of Tudela. We got lost, and didn't actually get to go to the Jesus, but found beautiful blossoming flowers, mulberries (I told my family about the mulberry pie I made - they are looking foward to eating it, when the mulberries are ripe!), and the longest trail of ants I have ever seen. Sharing these walks with my host sisters has been really fun, getting to know them better, learning how to be a sister, experiencing this once in a lifetime opportunity.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr_2yBudJYMjuIEPjaF73lxhE6YJe1vLLIaSQEiQ0Y8ym9T5HerT0FJGhP3x6kL2kKFV7EOQ-xfFzpHruIxpcNJmQLVEX9aByXkmEOho9jK6_E7qtquSdpc1UrrWshfO3BfK8AAL6QxU8/s1600/P5240028.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr_2yBudJYMjuIEPjaF73lxhE6YJe1vLLIaSQEiQ0Y8ym9T5HerT0FJGhP3x6kL2kKFV7EOQ-xfFzpHruIxpcNJmQLVEX9aByXkmEOho9jK6_E7qtquSdpc1UrrWshfO3BfK8AAL6QxU8/s320/P5240028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477903833253340034" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNyXuns7gnN1bVXqICeW_muIDc2Tlt2FxGI5HrvggbSiR_ue3uM-mXO6CCGB0-_jM4D0AlLMHKkIKQpuPQOJBgFRGXZaAUgDNLZPgWzF9-kAkiE4bpa2MNbd7HSASTkCJZwqh44f4JZQ/s1600/P5230101.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNyXuns7gnN1bVXqICeW_muIDc2Tlt2FxGI5HrvggbSiR_ue3uM-mXO6CCGB0-_jM4D0AlLMHKkIKQpuPQOJBgFRGXZaAUgDNLZPgWzF9-kAkiE4bpa2MNbd7HSASTkCJZwqh44f4JZQ/s320/P5230101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477898552180169858" border="0" /></a>on our walk.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaYB5dPHLbzKDLB1_ejJWwpEPyj4JaOeJCI3-P9n5g7zug7GXB3wONli829qeiaxL49Sufm0FOgssPdP7jlo-6Fx3CJ5H__cGVfHcFZRYSjMGCiZrV7egWPhBHGHqEd8lG-xYmDLxjq5w/s1600/P5240024.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaYB5dPHLbzKDLB1_ejJWwpEPyj4JaOeJCI3-P9n5g7zug7GXB3wONli829qeiaxL49Sufm0FOgssPdP7jlo-6Fx3CJ5H__cGVfHcFZRYSjMGCiZrV7egWPhBHGHqEd8lG-xYmDLxjq5w/s320/P5240024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477903826131086370" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_wJVLqKffILe-SCnbQDssObslx1pQ-9064d5qc68T1T8UFKj-YUNrWC2pbl2AuT50tPolaIzNtukE2eu09DCYrF2YV75BEziryJvYZMFGZHqGd1lgwYEKkcPeJxx4Ml95rt-LAjlHDFc/s1600/P5240014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_wJVLqKffILe-SCnbQDssObslx1pQ-9064d5qc68T1T8UFKj-YUNrWC2pbl2AuT50tPolaIzNtukE2eu09DCYrF2YV75BEziryJvYZMFGZHqGd1lgwYEKkcPeJxx4Ml95rt-LAjlHDFc/s320/P5240014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477900493654426482" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGJwHh1cpR9QJRa-ka0a6I7EqpH7ri8CdRPsL-BFOJzKT3YBUxhMvuihhs8e3nYZwDjkG3Nbm90rbTdYWqz-r6z4ev7so5HGsW_D8w08mOLKO88yntPubSLQW3q8OalxvOvK2xE2U3tz4/s1600/P5240015.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGJwHh1cpR9QJRa-ka0a6I7EqpH7ri8CdRPsL-BFOJzKT3YBUxhMvuihhs8e3nYZwDjkG3Nbm90rbTdYWqz-r6z4ev7so5HGsW_D8w08mOLKO88yntPubSLQW3q8OalxvOvK2xE2U3tz4/s320/P5240015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477900502022824898" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div>Saying all of this, exchange, particularly over this past week or two, has been extremely difficult for me. I have often felt challenged, left out, I have felt my Spanish hasn't been improving. Exchange is so much more difficult than I thought it would be. I thought it would be an easy breeze - that because I had already learnt Spanish, that I have good people skills, that I would be fluent in a week and have all the friends in the world. On friday, one of my classmates told me that I didn't know a word of Spanish.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"On Friday I had a terrible day... He said I didn't know a word of Spanish, which really hurt me. It make me feel like I wasn't respected, like I couldn't do anything, like I was a failure, like I wasn't trying. I wanted to say to him, 'Do you know how hard it is, being on exchange? I dare you to go to a country that you've never been to for a whole year, live with a family you don't know, go to a school half way through their school year, try and make friends, and learn their language... I dare you to move around the world and have everything you know taken away from you and be challenged about everything. To be away from all of your family and friends for a whole year, not being able to hug them, or run to them for comfort when you're upset. I dare you to take a year and try your best to speak a language you don't know, to experience it to the full, to take everything in stride. I dare you to try and assimilate into their culture, when your body and mind is assimilated to a different type of lifestyle. I dare you to do what I am doing, and maybe you'll see that you should respect me, that I am not a failure, that I am trying.' Of course, I didn't know enough Spanish to say that... So, I walked home crying. Ah, the life of an exchanger!"</span><br /><br />I felt terrible on Friday, that I didn't know anything, that I wasn't learning. God works in amazing ways.<br /><br />On Sunday, I went to my first Spanish church! The walk there was so wonderful, listening to Hillsong, just worshiping God for the life he has given me, no matter what challenges stand in our way. I got extremely lost finding the church, but still somehow made it to the service just before it started. I was the only person under thirty, above the age of 10, the only blonde-ish haired person, so the whole service I had people just openly staring at me. It was great though. So lovely to be sitting there with other people, other believers, learning about God, in Spanish. It was extremely traditional, (like the church in Darwin Mum and Dad) but great nonetheless. It was quite funny, as no one introduced themselves to me afterwards, but I didn't mind, because I just felt home. I was in the home of God, and to sit and just reflect on that was great.<br /><br />On Sunday afternoon, I went to the park with Javier and watched him for an hour while he played with his friends. I sat, listening to the conversations around me, eating my pippas, when I had a breakthrough. <br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I thought to myself, I am in </span>Spain<span style="font-style: italic;">. I was sitting there, in the Spanish sun, feeling completely content, listening in on other peoples conversations, understanding them, eating pippas! I remember when I first saw pippas and thought that they were the weirdest things imaginable. I am </span>here<span style="font-style: italic;">. I am in </span>Spain<span style="font-style: italic;">. I am assimilating, slowly but surely. I am becoming my own unique Laura/Lowwwrrra and Australian living in Spain. </span>God has got my back<span style="font-style: italic;">. That's all I need to know."</span><br /><br />This week we are having an English exchange student, Marcus, who is 15 years old. He is in Spain for a week, and it has been great to have him in this house, because it has been such an eye opener to just how much my Spanish has improved. I translate for him and María Antonia, I see how much I have improved, and makes me realise that I am learning. That I have improved immensely. I may not be where I thought I'd be, but God has a plan, and slowly I am realising that this plan is going to be amazing, and amazing journey filled with blessings and joy, and challenges and growth. I have grown and learnt so much in my first four months (four months!!) of exchange, and am so excited for what God has in store for the remaining eight (only eight months left!!) months of my exchange.laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-88325360111905523962010-05-23T07:40:00.000-07:002010-05-28T16:49:15.831-07:00Growing Up Part 2Being on exchange is an incredibly rewarding experience, if only for learning how to grow up! In the past three months that I've spent here in Spain, I have been stretched, challenged and have grown up an incredible amount. I looked through my diary and saw just how much I have written the words "growing up", "challenged" (because challenges comes with growing up!" and "mature"...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"This week has been good, but I've felt a little lost... I feel like I'm crossing the bridge between being a child and an adult, and I can't decide which one I want to be! So many times I have been challenged to do the 'grown up' thing, but a lot of the time I just want to be the child, to be cared and nurtured for and not have to worry about things like money, kids running across the road, how my Spanish is improving. Sometimes I wish it was a little easier... but if it were easier, it wouldn't be exchange, and I wouldn't be on the bridge between childhood and adulthood..."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I told myself I had a choice. That I could either be controlled by my anger and hurt, or I ould let myself enjoy and embrace the day. So I decided to enjoy the day. And I did."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I'm looking out of the window at the clouds, marvelling in their unique shapes, and the way the light adds depth, and totally just makes them peices of art. I feel a little bit like Jasmine from Alladin. God is taking me on a magic carpet ride to see the beautiful and different culture, landscape and life of Spain. I'm seeing a 'whole new world'. And on this ride, I am learning from my creator just what it is to be human. I'm sitting in the car, feeling like I'm the only person in the world, away from my family and friends... I feel like I've been stripped bare, the only thing familiar to me being God. It's not been and easy journey, and I've had to look at myself and tell myself to learn and grow and strengthen in a way that I wouldn't be able to if I was still at home with Mum and Dad."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I've felt extremely challenged and inspired this week. I've felt challenged as to how I want to raise my children, as to how I want to live my life, what values I want to have a priorities in my life. I feel like I am so old - since when do I start think about raising kids and things like that? I must be getting older..."</span><br /><br />[On an article I read on influential women in the world - Michelle Obama, Mrs Gates and Queen Rania of Jordan.] <span style="font-style: italic;">"One of their common factors they all held was for their passion for human rights, equality, and using their passion for these subjects, their positions and influences in society to make an impact. Ah, I felt as if the artivles were written just for me. I felt like jumping out of my seat there and then and joining arms with them to bring justice to people and their situations. being here in Spain, when I've ever told people what I'm studying next year, they;be all been extremely surprised. And everytime I tell them that that's what I'm studying, they tell me that you can't study that at university, and that Development Studies and Culture Change is not an option for a career. But they always tell me that they wished that they could/could have studied something like that. It makes me so happy to have been brought up in Australia, and in the generation that I'm in. "You don't know what you've got till it's gone" saying rings incredibly true to me in so many circumstances - I'm so glad that I've been raised by the family I'm part of, having ahd the values and faith I have instilled in me from a young age. I feel so incredibly blessed to come here to Spain, if only for that reason, to see how blessed I am in Australia."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I think before I left for this year of exchange, I thought, 'Well, I'm 18, I've finished school, I can drive, I've had a steady job for almost four years, I'm grown up. This year I'll definitely grow and learn more about myself, grow in my faith, in Spanish, but I'm already an adult.' But coming here, I've realised that in only three months, I've grown up A LOT. When I left home, I still relied on my parents, my friends, church, my support system for everything. They filled my every need, and I was comfortbale. So, of course, I felt all grown up. But, here in Spain, there have been so many things I've had to grow up about, and 'parent' myself with."</span><br /><br />These past couple of weeks have been particularly eye opening and challenging, as I have been frustrated with lots of things, constantly feeling down, stretched, tired, and wanting to have my Mum and Dad with me to tell me it'll be alright. Dad sent me this email of a devotional he received, just after I had talked to them about how stressed I had been:<br /><br /><span class="ecxApple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:medium;" ><span style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px;font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:13px;" ><p style="font-style: italic;"><em>“So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.”</em><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span>Hebrews 10: 35-36</p><p style="font-style: italic;">Do you sometimes get discouraged? You’ve worked and prayed for so long and nothing much seems to be happening. Frankly, you’re fed up with waiting. I know the feeling. One day as I was looking at a promise highlighted in my Bible, I grumbled, “Lord Jesus, you gave me that promise years ago and nothing has happened yet.”</p><p style="font-style: italic;">Then a cheerful thought came to me, you’re that much closer to the answer then.</p><p style="font-style: italic;">All God’s heroes experienced long waiting periods. Abraham went through thirteen years of silence before the fulfillment of a promise from God. His son Isaac waited twenty years for Rebecca to have children. Moses’ vision of delivering his people from Egyptian bondage lay buried forty years in the desert. And I could go on. Those years of silence were a time of discipline, not of displeasure. Wait periods give us an opportunity to grow our faith.</p><p style="font-style: italic;">Faith knows of a certainty that God has His moment and in that precise given time everything yields to his will.</p><p style="font-style: italic;">If faith comes to a closed gate, she is not disheartened; faith waits without until God touches the lock and it flies open.</p><p style="font-style: italic;">Faith knows some Jerichos need to be compassed about seven times before the victory comes. Kathryn Kuhlman</p><p style="font-style: italic;">The race is not always to the swift but to those who keep running. They are the ones who receive the prize.</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">It was exactly what I needed to hear, and made me so grateful, that although my parents may not be with me physically, God is with me always.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">That's not to say that because I'm in Spain, my parents don't support me in any way, because they do - they are incredibly supportive, and without their emails, skype talks, love packages in the mail, I don't think I'd survive! But, being in Spain, being separated physically by them, has challenged me incredibly to look at myself and ask myself, 'Who am I going to be today?' I've had to grow up and tell myself that I am going to experience this journey 100%. I'm going to make sure I leave not looking back wishing I'd done more.<br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p></span></span>laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-12091581948479336612010-05-16T04:05:00.000-07:002010-05-20T12:32:10.969-07:00¡Feliz Cumpleaños!A week ago I celebrated my nineteenth birthday. I had a countdown for the month leading up to my birthday and I was incredibly torn between emotions. I felt torn between excitement for having a birthday in another country, yet sadness and nervousness about experiencing it without my family. I was torn between wanting to hurry up and be nineteen, to feel a little bit more like an adult, and wanting to be turning 17, to be a closer age to my classmates. Everything about my birthday had a double side to it, and I desperately wanted to feel whole, and choose what I was going to feel, and how I was going to act. But, in the last couple of weeks leading up to my birthday, I realised that it was alright, better than that, it was good, to feel a huge range of emotions - to feel both excited and scared, both looking forward to and dreading my birthday. Celebrating a birthday away from family, if you've never done it before, to me, was a big step in independence, and I wanted to take that step, but also wanted to continue to be the child at home. But, I'm growing up, and with that comes the independence, the living away from home, the different joys and challenges... I woke up on Wednesday, the 12/5, excited and delighted to be in a different country, while sighing in relief that the wonderful invention of Skype was readily available.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfUf_EB1FKknKTRuXXejZLSC33pWFH12e9bvQzOYe8NabGMdPW1icmAEb3qCWBSb0en0IwBg8hTmnTpqQ-Sn92KS03lyKsUtmtY7e15k5n7V2cYeezQYcC0VOwTACDOdgoALxfx3SDyFs/s1600/P5120002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfUf_EB1FKknKTRuXXejZLSC33pWFH12e9bvQzOYe8NabGMdPW1icmAEb3qCWBSb0en0IwBg8hTmnTpqQ-Sn92KS03lyKsUtmtY7e15k5n7V2cYeezQYcC0VOwTACDOdgoALxfx3SDyFs/s320/P5120002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473434128359338290" border="0" /></a>In my home, in Australia, we have a tradition of opening presents in bed, with the family. We get up early, open up our presents from the family, have a shower, eat breakfast and go to school/uni/work. It is a tradition that I've known my whole life, and I wanted to still do that in Spain. So, I awoke at six thirty in the morning to a buzzing under my arm - my mobile was ringing. I answered it to hear, "Happy Birthday Laura!" from my Dad. Ahhh the loveliness of familiar voices on special days. I got onto skype and chatted with Dad for a little bit, eager to open my presents, and continue our tradition of opening presents in bed, just over two countries, and a <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyARCKQG2HD6AIGacP0qhky54q70ZXCrgj2DAkv8esk9IGtclMfHdoAzulkww81ZjmIV73Fauu88nIonfUUm-taB9UWNlxY4XkXmIHhQCNws15UDvbZeWX_kPCbO5DE6MOkcEmNisTyX4/s1600/P5120021.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyARCKQG2HD6AIGacP0qhky54q70ZXCrgj2DAkv8esk9IGtclMfHdoAzulkww81ZjmIV73Fauu88nIonfUUm-taB9UWNlxY4XkXmIHhQCNws15UDvbZeWX_kPCbO5DE6MOkcEmNisTyX4/s320/P5120021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473434763869072642" border="0" /></a>skype conversation. Dad was flying to Melbourne that day for work, and Mum was in Wollongong for her uni/work. So for my birthday, my Dad and Mum were in two different states, and I was in a different country! Dad had to leave for the airport, and get some work things together, so I said goodbye to him, and got to talk to Mum. I hadn't thought that I would have been able to talk to her until the afternoon, but she had been able to get some internet where she was and talk to me. There is nothing like talking to your loved ones on your special day! As I was talking to Mum on skype, she called Dad on her phone, so I got to speak to them both briefly as I opened their presents. It was so lovely to have a birthday card and something to open on my day, and I felt so special and loved. I love giving gifts and receiving them, so it was especially nice to have something physical there. My host parents were in the Caribbean on holidays the week before, and were hoping to get back for my birthday, but we were unsure, because of the volcano clouds... So, after I talked to my grandparents (I got your birthday card yesterday! So lovely, and loved getting the poem too :P), I went upstairs and had breakfast and then got ready for school.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBe4u_PPtqV880SfGCquQiQhD0gC6ktu79-DE2uSDAKST1DsBb5l9aY54rPKaFekiGLgraFTKcgK7HmWCeCdU2W3Q7o_9W6W6qs7onT5vEOvlwyUe22AAFyxyuoUY-co4wr-DulQcBrmU/s1600/P5120035.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBe4u_PPtqV880SfGCquQiQhD0gC6ktu79-DE2uSDAKST1DsBb5l9aY54rPKaFekiGLgraFTKcgK7HmWCeCdU2W3Q7o_9W6W6qs7onT5vEOvlwyUe22AAFyxyuoUY-co4wr-DulQcBrmU/s320/P5120035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473435384541926514" border="0" /></a>The laptop, my presents and my bed, Wednesday morning.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga_h86ofbmYerk_YpuwpcKtr__OQnEx8okNjJFFCPZ00We3a9INMbyMpl_dLCSZb98H8Ib-WkhVcMQ-2s1dBda6Q-CkC1M9Wp-hcGhDlUVsNFTX1O3AZLBZBicZmyGxLAZmC0PpI9SA_c/s1600/P5120050.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga_h86ofbmYerk_YpuwpcKtr__OQnEx8okNjJFFCPZ00We3a9INMbyMpl_dLCSZb98H8Ib-WkhVcMQ-2s1dBda6Q-CkC1M9Wp-hcGhDlUVsNFTX1O3AZLBZBicZmyGxLAZmC0PpI9SA_c/s320/P5120050.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473435767564158546" border="0" /></a>I wasn't sure how my birthday at school would be, if people would remember, or how Spaniards celebrate birthdays. I have to say, I was a little nervous about going to school, unsure of the cultural customs. I wanted to get it right, for my birthday to be natural and enjoyable, not continually wondering what I should be doing. I got into class and stood awkwardly at the doorway for a second before entering it, looking around and hearing Nora yell out, "<span style="font-style: italic;">Felicidades!</span>" ("Congratulations!" - The equivalent of Happy Birthday in English.) This commenced the kissing fest. In Spain, when congratulating (or saying hello to someone) you kiss the person on each cheek - so <span style="font-style: italic;">dos besos</span> (two kisses). I had the whole class come up to me saying '<span style="font-style: italic;">Felicidades!</span>' and give me <span style="font-style: italic;">dos besos</span>. It was quite crazy, and a little overwhelming to say the least. I felt so special and it was really lovely to be made a deal out of. Nora came up to me halfway through and told me that my 'cheeks are red', which made me blush even more, making her say that they were even redder! It was lovely nonetheless and cemented the fact that this was my birthday and I was going to enjoy it no matter what.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkuAlQ6tqGhd0C6dD0OGkIIAovBgjX1mHG45kFz_I1tP54YCB8wDYZTgQxhrAveREiGZ_bLcKnc-E_TcRpQ2Wt0wrSVh-KZkO30wuSSpnmfu40A4HNtx3oEdnksu8FLpXoXoOy7v3Prh8/s1600/P5120054.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkuAlQ6tqGhd0C6dD0OGkIIAovBgjX1mHG45kFz_I1tP54YCB8wDYZTgQxhrAveREiGZ_bLcKnc-E_TcRpQ2Wt0wrSVh-KZkO30wuSSpnmfu40A4HNtx3oEdnksu8FLpXoXoOy7v3Prh8/s320/P5120054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473436528279955010" border="0" /></a>Me and Adjowa on my birthday.<br /><br /></div>Adjowa, the other exchange student in my class made a huge deal out my birthday, which was really lovely. All throughout the day she would start singing Happy birthday to me, both in English and in Spanish. This then started everyone else singing it, so I it was sung to me about 10 times! During <span style="font-style: italic;">recreo</span> (break) I had <span style="font-style: italic;">todo el mundo</span> (everyone) come up to me and say '<span style="font-style: italic;">felicidades!</span>' and give me <span style="font-style: italic;">dos besos</span>. It was so funny, because most of the people I had no idea who they were, but it was really nice nonetheless. During the fifth period, I came into class to see a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY written on the blackboard. The teacher came in, and everything was normal, until Adjowa entered the room with a cake and the whole class gathered round and started singing happy birthday to me, half in Spanish, half in English. Ahhhh I was as red as a beetroot, but I felt so special and cared for, and it was so nice to be made a big deal out of! We cut the cake, (banana - my favourite!) ate it, and had a group photo taken. It was so lovely, and definitely was the highlight of my day. I felt like it made me feel much closer to my classmates. I had been worried about my birthday, struggling with the fact that I might not feel that special or acknowledged, and it was something I definitely spent a lot of time praying about. But God, being the awesome provider he is, gave me a day extremely special. It was so lovely, being at school and I felt so blessed and lucky to be able to be a part of such a wonderful class.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK2ldYKlP1OSil6FDgCwNn6Awet_b1lCDGzx57sdIfargZbUR6pw0QsITDdZw8hCx_qe6l_MECd2lmj_uTnV3_tzj7OfvF2WDCh7fFFB4qE-yTHanMGaJQwBAEt_FyRfGCMSwK39u3UA0/s1600/P5120079.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK2ldYKlP1OSil6FDgCwNn6Awet_b1lCDGzx57sdIfargZbUR6pw0QsITDdZw8hCx_qe6l_MECd2lmj_uTnV3_tzj7OfvF2WDCh7fFFB4qE-yTHanMGaJQwBAEt_FyRfGCMSwK39u3UA0/s320/P5120079.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473437117098003874" border="0" /></a>My wonderful class and Me!<br /></div><br />I got home, and told my host family about my day, and then took the kids to their afternoon activities. I had to walk María home, but it was raining, so by the time we got home, we were soaked to the bone! But, when we got home, María Antonia, y José Antonio were home. It was so nice to see them, after a week of them being away, and they were very generous, giving me a gift of a silver ring, with a blue stone that can only be found in the Caribbean. I hung out with the rest of the family, got to speak to my brothers and sisters and Mum and Dad again, and got to tell them about my day, which made my day seem complete. I also got presents from my Aunty Cath and Uncle Bruce and family, and both my brothers and sisters. It was so so much fun, and overall was an exciting, culturally full day. I definitely felt like the day had been wonderful, and it showed me that being away from family is not all bad. I feel like this time away from my family has just made my relationships stronger - bonding over emails, my blog, skype conversations. Some of my favourite times, are the 10 minutes in the morning when sometimes Mum and I find ourselves both online on Skype at the same time, so I get to see her eat breakfast, and she gets to see me getting ready for school.<br /><br />It's days like these, days where you can choose to feel homesick or lavish up the experiences that make me believe that God is the biggest part to my happiness. He alone is the one thing that makes all possible. I was walking to school this morning, with my broken headphones, not being able to listen to music, when I realised just how powerful God is, and how without him, you and I wouldn't be here. I thanked God for the life, and with this life, the opportunities he's given us and me. It makes me want to be a piece of bread, that soaks up the last juices of a meal; I want to live with my camera and diary attached to me, recording all of these amazing memories. I want to live a life devoted to thanking God for the amazing opportunities he has blessed me with, and the family and friends I have in my life. So thank you, God, for allowing me to have had such a wonderful, blessed, joyous birthday, and for enriching my exchange and allowing me to learn and grow, and stretch myself during this year away from everything. I saw someone write that while they are away on exchange, they are stripped bare; stripped bare of all preconceived notions of self, of family, friends, of language. And being bare, they start all over again, building ourselves up again, with new language, friends, a second family... learning to strive through challenges and soak up the blessings. It is my hope and prayer that I don't get stripped of my family and friends in Australia, but that I can somehow allow a little more space in my heart for my new friends, my new family, this new exciting language, and learn to embrace the great times, and learn from the bad.laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5008120185921543762.post-66198309427706789762010-05-16T03:19:00.000-07:002010-05-16T03:56:49.694-07:00ANZAC Day.I can't believe I forgot to write to you all and tell you about Anzac Day in Spain!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4GK4RxO0jtreWqhuJ0F4rYNi-vQ5MzykTRpp2rF8NtPCqfBZSbrS7vfvCD96d0UvAWAQvxljdqy8THsoWL6MpUsuWwCPJ4vWttcFJC1OPlYtnfEpQyGIQiFJc7ZwAhrs70-2ZOLL6lk/s1600/Photo+18.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4GK4RxO0jtreWqhuJ0F4rYNi-vQ5MzykTRpp2rF8NtPCqfBZSbrS7vfvCD96d0UvAWAQvxljdqy8THsoWL6MpUsuWwCPJ4vWttcFJC1OPlYtnfEpQyGIQiFJc7ZwAhrs70-2ZOLL6lk/s320/Photo+18.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471817997912313138" border="0" /></a><br />For those of you (if there are any) that don't know what Anzac Day is, I'll give you a little bit of history. ANZAC stands for Australian & New Zealand Army Corps. This was the name given to the Australian and New Zealand army, which was formed in Egypt 1915. They fought at Gallipoli, and was the first time Australians really fought as their own army. During the WWI, many died at Gallipoli and Anzac Day is a day where all Australians commemorate the soldiers that fought at Gallipoli during WWI, and now also honours all that have served or died for Australia. It is held on the 25/4 and is an extremely important day for Australia and New Zealand.<br /><br />Every year, my family have had the tradition of attending the dawn service on Anzac Day. We wake up before dawn, go down the bowling club, and attend the dawn service, afterwards having a big breakfast. I wanted to still do a dawn service here in Spain, and that's exactly what I did!<br /><br />I asked my host family if they wanted to wake up at dawn, and join in with me, but they said that they prefered sleeping, so it was just me! I decided to go out by the river and hold my own little service there. The night before, I had gone out with friends, only getting back at 3:30, and woke up at 6, so I was pretty tired! I took myself and my laptop out to the river, where it was still quite dark. I hadn't gotten dressed, so I was still in my pyjamas, and while I walked the 40 m to the river, a car drove past and gave me the funniest look. Ah, the life of an exchanger!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1w4ajXK8ACnf3UOTcxr-shqV4zeSwBcUM3xyrt4Mrb2Z0ap_ZNp3t_sLj6yzc9OGhcQqortuacAbYpm5IlA7coK_0RPaN-djIShCwfO7wZ6c8MGYCVYgU6u_xxcTymT6S5fNqUF7Kh8/s1600/Photo+12.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1w4ajXK8ACnf3UOTcxr-shqV4zeSwBcUM3xyrt4Mrb2Z0ap_ZNp3t_sLj6yzc9OGhcQqortuacAbYpm5IlA7coK_0RPaN-djIShCwfO7wZ6c8MGYCVYgU6u_xxcTymT6S5fNqUF7Kh8/s320/Photo+12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471818425808041346" border="0" /></a>Me and the river at Dawn :)<br /><br /></div>When I was at the river, I read 'For the Fallen' a poem by Laurence Binyon, which an excerpt is read out every Anzac Day.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">England mourns for her dead across the sea.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of spirit,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Fallen in the cause of the free.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">There is music in the midst of desolation</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And a glory that shines upon our tears.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They went with songs to the battle, they were young,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They fell with their faces to the foe.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">At the going down of the sun and in the morning</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">We will remember them.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They mingle not with laughing comrades again;</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They sit no more at familiar tables of home;</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They sleep beyond England's foam.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">But where our desires are and our hopes profound,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">To the innermost heart of their own land they are known</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">As the stars are known to the Night;</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">To the end, to the end, they remain.</span><br /><br />The excerpt that is read out is:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They went with songs to the battle, they were young,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They fell with their faces to the foe.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">At the going down of the sun and in the morning</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">We will remember them.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">We will remember them.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Lest we forget.</span><br /><br />It was so great and moving to read these lines out, knowing that they were being read and this day was being celebrated all around the world. I then played the 'Last Post' and then the 'Reveille', followed by a minutes silence. All the while, watching the sun rise in Spain. It was definitely different to a normal Anzac Day; me in my pyjamas by the river with my laptop, no one else there... but definitely special and moving. I felt so very blessed to be able to do this. It definitely made me want to go to Gallipoli for Anzac Day one year, and is now on my to do list.<br /><br />I went back to bed after the sun had risen, and slept in till 12 pm. Afterwards, Ana, María y yo made Anzac biscuits! We didn't have any coconut, or any golden syrup, instead making them with honey, but they turned out to be a success! I didn't really like them as much as Australian ones, but everyone really loved them, including some friends of Ana, meaning that I have to go to their house to teach them! All in all, it was a great day, and I felt so Australian, and I felt so glad that I had been able to experience this overseas.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXj9fo8gDE-Djz81r1rNlTLI-ft_Gl6SNQ7vA6dQAKi1bPXRrq74V5u4-GxYw6caFIYeKV2l4RKLwTBnEZM-4dplwhMc8BM4UcBKj7JmqeILdnZMzD6Kf1RB5dt4zwdg1219oJZUvg-r8/s1600/P4260156.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXj9fo8gDE-Djz81r1rNlTLI-ft_Gl6SNQ7vA6dQAKi1bPXRrq74V5u4-GxYw6caFIYeKV2l4RKLwTBnEZM-4dplwhMc8BM4UcBKj7JmqeILdnZMzD6Kf1RB5dt4zwdg1219oJZUvg-r8/s320/P4260156.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471819224939939794" border="0" /></a>Making the Anzac Biscuits.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFn8uhV7xutfQtdScurNS3b1v-p3qcHbAOk7OvQ2x5QrA9dhYNPh4QIe3EwGeNjCnXglvwZ-bxt4rgQxsRIak9JvouaAKFq9bSK-dfmDleeB8GpGkoikp9kHzvFNhxiG_QsQH-Z5EbyM/s1600/P4260178.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFn8uhV7xutfQtdScurNS3b1v-p3qcHbAOk7OvQ2x5QrA9dhYNPh4QIe3EwGeNjCnXglvwZ-bxt4rgQxsRIak9JvouaAKFq9bSK-dfmDleeB8GpGkoikp9kHzvFNhxiG_QsQH-Z5EbyM/s320/P4260178.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471819926544480018" border="0" /></a>Anzac Biscuits completed.<br /><br /></div><br />Anzac day made me realise how much I love Australia, and how incredibly blessed I feel to have had these brave men and women fight to keep our country free; to keep our country a place where freedom of religion, belief, is allowed. So, to all of you who have fought or have died fighting for Australia, or any country, thank you for your sacrifice.laura.http://www.blogger.com/profile/03797681446483699228noreply@blogger.com0