Laura en España

Oh, Spain...

2011-12-12T23:14:00.000-08:00

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.

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.

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):

"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."

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.

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.

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.

"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.

Sometimes I wish I could bring Tudela back to Australia. It would make things so much easier."

Holidays.

2011-06-15T03:23:00.000-07:00

"I cannot go to school today"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.

My mouth is wet, my throat is dry.
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox.

And there's one more - that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue,
It might be the instamatic flu.

I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke.
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in.

My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My toes are cold, my toes are numb,

I have a sliver in my thumb.

My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,

I think my hair is falling out.

My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,

There's a hole inside my ear.

I have a hangnail, and my heart is ...
What? What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is .............. Saturday?

G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

-Shel Silverstein-

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?

So, my bucket list for my holidays:

explore somewhere entirely new!
go to Windsor and find a cute coffee shop
go to Ikea
create something new every week
bake!
paint a painting
send letters to my friends
go on coffee dates with some of my favourite people
write in my journal more
walk bridge to bridge along Nepean River
take a polaroid
keep my birthday plant alive
go on a holiday somewhere grand!
ride a horse
get back into running

Lets see how far along I get!

Coffee Goodness.

2011-06-12T21:34:00.001-07:00

"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."

- Rory Gilmore, from Gilmore Girls

Time with Pip over some herbal tea.

Laughter.

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.

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.

Back into it..

2011-05-31T02:50:00.000-07:00

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.

Me and my brothers and sisters.

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!

Mount Wilson during Autumn.

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!

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.

Dad and I in Mount Wilson.

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.

Min and I at a lookout in Yellow Rock.

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!

The Giant Spider.

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.

Mum and I at Woy Woy

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 dos besos - two kisses).

Sydney Harbour

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.

Me with the Three Sisters, in Katoomba.

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.

Sydney Harbour from a ferry.

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!

Dad and I at a wedding.

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!

Lunch with Dad.

Dress-ups with Sarah.

Cousinly love :)

Coleman's musical fun after church.

Geocaching with Uncle Bruce!

Tea at the Jazz Apple.

Uncle Geoff's 50th Birthday party.

City fun with Tarn.

My favourite siblings.

Best family out!
City fun with Jo and Pip.
Homemade breakfasts!
Autumn goodness.
Movie times with my bible study and favourite girls!

¡Adios España!

2011-02-02T01:19:00.000-08:00

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Goodbye Spain. Hello Australia!

Oh, Spain, what you do to my heart.

2011-01-24T13:17:00.000-08:00

Well, I am back in Spain.

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 had arrived in Madrid, Spain, not Tudela, Navarra, my hometown, Spain.

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.

Walking through the city that night, I fell in love with the architecture, with the language whispering to me, all over again.

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.

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!

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.

10 days and Train Trips.

2011-01-23T12:18:00.000-08:00

I am currently on the train in Germany, on my way to Düsseldorf to catch the plane to Spain. About a month ago I left my beloved Tudela, my wonderful home in Spain to set off on an adventure for Europe. This month has passed incredibly quickly, and I have had the greatest time, experiencing a range of different cultures, languages and people. It has been so nice to see people that I haven’t seen in a while, and see their homes and where they live. I can’t believe that my last leg is coming to a close, meaning that my exchange is drawing to a close. 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.

This week I became an official uni student. I will be attending the University of New South Wales (UNSW) in Sydney. I am so excited to be finally starting this new part of my education. I will be studying a Bachelor of Arts in Development Studies and Culture Change. UNSW is situated in Sydney; about a two hour commute from my house. 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. I have been staying with Benne, an old exchange student that stayed in our house in Australia in 2007. It has been so lovely to spend the time with him and his family. He will be starting uni like me this year, and he is planning on moving to Münster, where he will be attending university. Münster is about a half hour or twenty-minute train ride from Emsdetten his hometown. I would love it if I only had to travel for half an hour everyday! Anyway, I’ll be starting university the 28^th of February, and am really looking forward to it!

I can’t believe the amount of things I’ve been able to do this year. I have been able to see so much, and go to so many places. I often fail to realise just how blessed I’ve been with a generous and supportive family, and the opportunities to travel. I love travelling. 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. Travelling has always been a big part of my life, and I feel like I have got the travel bug ingrained into me. I am sitting in a train, in the middle of Germany, about to head off to another country. My total hours of travelling today will be eleven hours by train, bus and plane. To get from Jordan to Germany it took me sixteen hours. 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. I love travelling. 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. 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? I often forget, and forget to thank God for the amazing life he has given me. This past month has been a month of realising just how much God has blessed me, challenged me, and helped me grow this year. I have seen so much; been to so many unique places, and I thank God so much for that. These past nineteen years have been amazing, and I can’t wait for the next nineteen. I am excited to see what God has in store for me.

This week I have spent in Germany. I have absolutely loved my time here. Staying with the family of Benne this year has been some of my favourite times this year. I was able to spend a week with them in December, and a week this time in January. I arrived on Sunday night, after flying in from Jordan, and just felt at home. I love the family of Benne. They are such a colourful bunch, with kind hearts and wonderful smiles. Benne’s parents are so wonderful, and so funny! I often tell Hans, his dad that he should become a tourist guide, because he knows EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING. He is such a funny man, and makes me think of my own Dad and how much I love Dads. 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. It was nice to just walk around the city for the couple of hours that we were there and see another German city. My favourite part though, was the drive, learning the word for traffic jam (Stau) and hearing stories of Benne’s family. 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. I love walking around cities with my Ipod playing; it was a really nice end to the day. The Tuesday I spent relaxing, as I have had a pretty busy past couple of weeks, and it was really nice to just… relax. On the Wednesday I got accepted into uni, and went to Münster to look around. I spent most of the day by myself, as Benne works everyday until 9, his parents work and his younger sister is at school. On Wednesday night Benne and I went to the pub to meet up with his friends, which I really enjoyed. They were just really lovely people, and reminded me of people from home.

Emsdetten is about a two and a half hours train trip from Amsterdam in the Netherlands. I had really wanted to visit Amsterdam for a day, and found cheap tickets (19 euros each way) to go on the Thursday. 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. I don’t know German. This week I have learnt a few phrases and words, but I really do not know or understand German. At the train station, the notice board said the next train to come was the train to Amsterdam. Little did I know that the announcement that I heard said that my train was delayed. A train came, and as the noticeboard said it was my train, I hopped on, unsuspecting. After a little bit, I wondered if I really was on the right train. I asked some people and they just nodded and went on their way, giving the impression that they didn’t really understand my English. When the ticket man came around, he took my ticket and shook my head. I asked him if I was on the right train, but he didn’t speak English. He kept on pointing to the ticket and shaking his head. I tried explaining my situation, pointing at Rheine, a train station, saying “I. Got. On. Here.” I would then point to Amsterdam. “I. Want. To. Go. Here. Am. I. On. The. Right. Train?” 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. After successfully achieving nothing, he shook his head once more and left me, more confused than ever. I stayed on the train for about an hour and a half, until the train stopped at a station called Emden. Knowing that this wasn’t Amsterdam, I was surprised to see everyone get off, and train shut down. I got out and went into the station into the tourist information. 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!). I then knew I had definitely come the wrong way, and hopped back on the train. The ticket man this time knew a little more English and said the trains to Amsterdam were delayed. After another hour and a half, I arrived back in Rheine, at about 11:30. I was meant to have arrived in Amsterdam at 11. Surprisingly I wasn’t upset or stressed, as the journey to Emden had been quite beautiful. I still had no idea where I had gone to, but it didn’t really matter. I caught the ten o’clock train for Amsterdam at twelve, two hours delayed, and got into Amsterdam at two. My train back to Emsdetten left at five. 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. After my little mistake earlier in the day, I opted for the safer option. I did a quick whirlwind tour of Amsterdam, and absolutely loved it. I love Amsterdam! I think it is such a beautiful city. I went to the palace, to the monument; I tried to find Anne Frank’s house and walked along the canals. It was a beautiful day, with blue skies and the sun was shining. 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. The time went too quickly, and before I knew it, it was time to catch the train again. 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. The train trip back was uneventful, and I got home safely without catching the wrong train! 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. I figured out that I spent nine hours on a train on Thursday and three in the city, and I was completely happy. I really enjoyed my day, looking at the scenery, getting lost and not understanding German. 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. This is stupid.” Knowing Spanish, I had no problems getting around or knowing where to go. 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.

Something that I’ve loved this week has been listening to Benne and his family speak German. 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. I really would like to learn German one day, as I think it is a really beautiful language. The pronunciation for me is really difficult, but it’s something that I’d really like to learn.

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! (And eat lots of their delicious bread!)

Today I head off to Spain, my last stop before arriving home. 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. 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. I hope to spend these five days relaxing, exploring Sevilla and its surroundings. 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. 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. Then, on Wednesday the 2^nd 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. 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. I suppose it’s a little bit like leaving Australia. Only this time, I don’t know when I’ll be back. Gosh, I’m going to miss having Spanish in my life everyday. Never again will I have this experience.

Thank you, thank you, thank you God for this experience. I will never forget it – the good bits and the bad bits. And thank you to my parents. 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. So, thank you.

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. I’m so excited to be getting back into church, into fellowship. 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.

The scenery is beautiful, so I am going to go and enjoy it. I love travelling (and listening to German)!

Time Flies When You're Having Fun.

2011-01-10T12:03:00.000-08:00

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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!

Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD;
let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come before him with thanksgiving
and extol him with music and song.

For the LORD is the great God,
the great King above all gods.
In his hand are the depths of the earth,
and the mountain peaks belong to him.
⁵ The sea is his, for he made it,
and his hands formed the dry land.

Come, let us bow down in worship,
let us kneel before the LORD our Maker;
for he is our God
and we are the people of his pasture,
the flock under his care.

Today, if only you would hear his voice,
“Do not harden your hearts as you did at Meribah,
as you did that day at Massah in the wilderness,
where your ancestors tested me;
they tried me, though they had seen what I did.
For forty years I was angry with that generation;
I said, ‘They are a people whose hearts go astray,
and they have not known my ways.’
So I declared on oath in my anger,
‘They shall never enter my rest.’”

Psalm 95

2010-12-02T16:23:00.001-08:00

I love that I'm friends enough with people here in Spain that they fart in front of me. :)

Skyping.

2010-12-01T14:25:00.001-08:00

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.

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.

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.

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 what you're living for, and who 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.

Today, a huge encouragement to me has been this verse:

“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything.
Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.”
Philippians 4:6 (NLT)

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.

So thank you Lord, thank you for all you have given me and blessed me with.

Snow!

2010-11-30T13:40:00.000-08:00

I'm going to leave my photos and videos to say the words that I am too tired to write.

But, I am incredibly glad that today I live in a place where it snows. It excites me beyond words.

I don't know how to upload the videos so you can see them on this post, but here are the links:

Video one of snow.
Video two of snow.
Video three of snow.

My backyard when I woke up.

The park right by my house on the way to school.

This tree kept part of the grass green and uncovered!

The park right by my house on the way to school.

Snow on the leaves!

Snow on the railings.

I took photos of this park the other day about autumn leaves. What a change in scenery!

Park right opposite Javier's school, on my walk to my school this morning. The kids were all having snow ball fights.

Loving winter incredibly much, and glad that Mum and Dad bought me a jacket in Sweden so I'm never cold, but roasty warm.

Boni.

2010-11-29T13:57:00.000-08:00

Boni, our Spanish Golden Retriever.

Today I have a lot to be glad about!

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.

Meet Bonnie, the cutest dog you will ever meet in your life. Ever.

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.

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.

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!

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.

WE GOT A DOG!

Maria with the puppy.

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!

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.

Boni meeting Mini Bonnie Dog.

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!

Me and Boni and his cute little tummy.

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.

Taking Boni on his first walk.

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.

Education.

2010-11-28T07:47:00.000-08:00

Something I feel extremely blessed (and glad!) 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.

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.

What a difference.

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.

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.

Coming to school in Spain was a shock.

My class in Australia playing soccer with two of the teachers.

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

Oval of my school in Australia.

Courtyard of my school in Spain.

Javier's school. (Notice the fences?)

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).

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!

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.

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.

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.

I suppose this post is to thank my teachers.

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.

My English class on my last day of school.

Pollyanna and Winter Leaves.

2010-11-17T09:09:00.000-08:00

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.

For those of you who don't know what Pollyanna is about:

"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?"

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:

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!

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.

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.

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.

Park near Javier's school.

Nan and Gramps.

2010-11-11T08:27:00.000-08:00

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.

Oops.

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.

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.

At seven I was eagerly waiting for them to arrive.

At seven thirty I was waiting for them to arrive.

At eight I was impatiently waiting for them to arrive.

At eight thirty I called them.

They were lost.

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.

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.

Nan and Gramps outside my house.

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.

Us having a coffee at my coffee shop.

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.

Lunch at Bar Aragon.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Gramps and me outside the Palacio del Aljafería.

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.

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.

Rigos de los Mallos

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!

We headed up to Jaca, stopping along the way at a couple of different places, enjoying the spectacular views.

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 croquetas, patatas bravas, tortilla de patatas (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!

Jaca by night.

We woke up at about 8am the following day, the Saturday, and left at nine, to find no one out on the streets.

Us on the deserted streets of Jaca.

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.

View from the village we stayed at.

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.

My bed in the abbey that we stayed at.

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.

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.

Gramps and I on the drive.

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.

Matilda is not to be trusted.

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.

The Sagrada Familia

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.

Nan and I at the restaurant with our 'shandys'.

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.

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.

Romans 3:4-5

More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope,

Fiestas Del Pilar

2010-10-27T11:23:00.000-07:00

Fiestas are a big deal in Spain.

I often feel like Spanish lives revolve around fiestas, hoping to go to as many fiestas 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.

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.

Basilica del Pilar in Zaragoza.

We arrived in Zaragoza on Saturday afternoon at around lunchtime, where we had lunch with the Yaya, 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.

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 todo el mundo, 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 cuadrilla, 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.

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.

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.

One dance group. As you can see, there were lots of people that came along and watched.

Percussionists playing to a crowd of people.

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.

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.

Javier and María in their traditional dress, with their flowers to offer.

There were thousands of people offering flowers, all dressed up in the traditional clothing, and I loved it!

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.

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!

I really enjoyed being able to see another different part of Spain, and participate in another one of the innumerable fiestas!

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.

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.

Sometimes I wish I could bring Tudela back to Australia. It would make things so much easier.

Jumbled.

2010-10-06T07:59:00.000-07:00

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.

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. 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. I wanted and needed comfort, and felt like I couldn’t get any. It was a sucky week, something that I don’t wish to repeat again.

Being homesick sucks.

I started writing this blog post, planning on going into every detail of how I felt, and everything that I did. 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. 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. I want you understand going through the emotions of having everything around you fine, but still feel horrible. I had been feeling great, on top of the world. I had friends, I could speak Spanish, I was happy with my family. I didn’t understand why I felt so homesick, so pained, when everything was going fine. I still don’t understand. Understanding homesickness is important, but what I learnt from my week is more important.

I felt and still feel alone. I am a Christian in a non-Christian area. 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. Last week I felt that I had no one, that I was alone, and had no one to comfort me. My brother, Brad, sent me an email a couple of days ago that greatly brightened me up.

“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.”

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. They may not be here in Spain, but they are always only a Skype call away. Being on exchange, you often have to learn to be your own best friend. Learn to enjoy doing things by yourself, and exploring where you live. 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.

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. When I was feeling incredibly homesick, I decided to write some poetry, and Hebrews 13:5-6 came to mind.

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?"

It is so easy to feel alone, to be filled with fear and lose hope, even over the simplest and smallest things. This verse is a huge encouragement to me, knowing that God will never leave me nor forsake me. Exchange isn’t easy. Homesickness isn’t easy. Feeling alone isn’t easy. But bringing everything back to God, and relying on him through everything changes it all.

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! Months of not writing does that to you, I suppose.

This week has been somewhat better. On Monday, we had a birthday party for one of my friends at school, as she was turning 17 on Tuesday. We went to the movies and saw Charlie St Cloud (Siempre a Mi Lado in Spanish). 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. I am loving having Spanish friends, conversing with them in Spanish, telling jokes and understanding jokes in Spanish, and living the Spanish life. This week has been a week of acceptance, as I am beginning to realize that my exchange year is winding down. I have been speaking with Mum and Dad about my plans for the next couple of months, and they are filling up quickly! I am hoping to travel throughout the month of January, though I’m not sure where or with who. I have no idea where I am spending Christmas at present, as my host family may be overseas for the Christmas break. 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. There are 76 days left until Christmas, so I have at least another 76 days left in my dear Tudela. Thinking of my time left on exchange in mere days is incomprehensible. 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! 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. But time flies when you’re having fun!

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.

I feel like I am on the fine line of having so much left of my exchange, and the winding down period. 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.

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. 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. This week is the equivalent of Australia Day. October 12 is the day of Hispanics. It is the day celebrating all things Spanish and South American.

Zaragoza is a city about 45 minutes away from where we live, and it holds the Basilica del Pilar. Pilar is the saint for all Spanish people, so October 12 is incredibly important there, and there are lots of activities happening this weekend. 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.

Something that I love so incredibly much about the Spanish is their joy for life. They celebrate in a way that is so unique and so lively. I’m extremely excited to go and see the celebrations and take part in them, especially in Zaragoza, as Pilar is there.

I am about to head off, so I will leave it where I am. Sorry for the lack of posting, the jumbled-ness of this post, and the lack of interesting things in it! I promise that I will be writing more in these coming weeks. I love writing in my blog, I love sharing what I have to share, but life often gets in the way. (Or my laziness does!)

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,

"The apostles left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name... they never stopped teaching and proclaiming the good news that Jesus is the Messiah."

Acts 5:41-42

Juventudes..

2010-09-21T12:22:00.000-07:00

3 months.

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.

So, this past week... the start of the all familiar routine, the start of school, the end of summer...

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 small 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!

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 maths!). 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 can understand another language.

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 plaza de los toros, 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 typical. That sort of typical, where when you ask someone to describe Spain, they tell you paella, forever summery weather, bullrings, flamenco, passionate, friendly people…

I spent the next couple of hours in that bullring, listening to two horrible comedians, dancing, and meeting new people. 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. Now though, I love meeting new people, talking Spanish, and just enjoying different people’s company. 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. 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 so loud.

At around 8pm the event ended, so everyone made their way out onto the street, where a marching band was waiting. 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. 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. It was something that I hadn’t really experienced before, at least, that the new confident Laura had experienced. Charlie and I went to his host brother’s cuarto. A cuarto is a completely foreign concept to most people, so I’ll do my best to describe it accurately. A lot of people have cuartos. 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. These ‘rooms’, or ‘cuartos’ are normally run down, cheap, and not very nice. 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. 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!

We weren’t at the cuarto for long, because it was about 10 pm and we were all pretty hungry! We went to Telepizza (Telepizza is like Pizza Hut) and ate pizzas for dinner. 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. 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 El Tubo. For those of you who don’t know what El Tubo is, it’s a street full of bars where the kids go to drink, socialise, have fun. It was Charlie’s first time down into El Tubo and he was incredibly shocked, as the legal age to drink in the US is 21, and El Tubo is filled of children as young as 13 years old! 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. 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. I hadn’t seen them in three months, and was really excited to see them. 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. 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. I got home that night at 4:45am and posted on my facebook,

“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!”

I really do feel like I am living a different exchange experience after the summer. I feel like I’m experiencing a different Tudela, a different exchange period. Same people, same town, different experience. And I love it. 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. I don’t understand it all, but I am trying, and I think that’s why I’m enjoying it. 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. So, now, I am just a person who doesn’t understand everything, but is trying. And that’s ok for me. (Anyone want to tutor me in maths?!) 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!

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. I am continually surprised by the how quickly the time has gone! 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. Crazy stuff. 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!

He only is my Rock and my Salvation; He is my Defense and my Fortress, I shall not be moved. Psalm 62:6 (AMP)

Vacaciones

2010-06-29T01:23:00.000-07:00

These 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:

"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"

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!)

I have been absolutely loving these past couple of weeks of holidays, relaxing, exploring, hanging out with Spanish friends...

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.

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.

In Spain, when you go on wet water rides, you wear rain coats! No one bothers on getting wet, they prefer to stay dry.

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!

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.

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!

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!

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.

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!

World Cup Fever.

2010-06-25T13:59:00.000-07:00

3:47 pm.

"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.

3:59 pm.

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.

4:15 pm.

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?"

This has pretty much been the World Cup experience for me.

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.

Mum and I on skype, watching the game.

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.

Javier wearing the Spanish flag. :)

Jorge's house filled with Spanish flags.

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!

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?

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...)

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...

Who out there has a zest for life? Can't wait each day to come upon beauty." Psalm 34: 12 (MSG)

The ups and downs of learning a language.

2010-06-14T01:33:00.000-07:00

"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???"

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 :)

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 comer 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.

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. Sei is seis, cua is cuatro, ta lugo is hasta luego... 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.

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!

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 I understand them. 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.

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!

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!

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.

Learning.

2010-05-29T03:22:00.000-07:00

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.

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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 'Capture Thirty Days of Inspiration' 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.

brownies I made :)

Anzac biscuits

walnuts we cracked for the brownies.

jasmine.

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.

on our walk.

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.

"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!"

I felt terrible on Friday, that I didn't know anything, that I wasn't learning. God works in amazing ways.

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.

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.

"I thought to myself, I am in Spain. 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 here. I am in Spain. I am assimilating, slowly but surely. I am becoming my own unique Laura/Lowwwrrra and Australian living in Spain. God has got my back. That's all I need to know."

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.

Growing Up Part 2

2010-05-23T07:40:00.000-07:00

Being 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"...

"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..."

"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."

"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."

"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..."

[On an article I read on influential women in the world - Michelle Obama, Mrs Gates and Queen Rania of Jordan.] "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."

"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."

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:

“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.” Hebrews 10: 35-36

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.”

Then a cheerful thought came to me, you’re that much closer to the answer then.

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.

Faith knows of a certainty that God has His moment and in that precise given time everything yields to his will.

If faith comes to a closed gate, she is not disheartened; faith waits without until God touches the lock and it flies open.

Faith knows some Jerichos need to be compassed about seven times before the victory comes. Kathryn Kuhlman

The race is not always to the swift but to those who keep running. They are the ones who receive the prize.

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.

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.

¡Feliz Cumpleaños!

2010-05-16T04:05:00.000-07:00

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.

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 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.

The laptop, my presents and my bed, Wednesday morning.

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, "Felicidades!" ("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 dos besos (two kisses). I had the whole class come up to me saying 'Felicidades!' and give me dos besos. 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.

Me and Adjowa on my birthday.

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 recreo (break) I had todo el mundo (everyone) come up to me and say 'felicidades!' and give me dos besos. 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.

My wonderful class and Me!

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.

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.

ANZAC Day.

2010-05-16T03:19:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I forgot to write to you all and tell you about Anzac Day in Spain!

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.

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!

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!

Me and the river at Dawn :)

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.

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

The excerpt that is read out is:

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

We will remember them.
Lest we forget.

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.

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.

Making the Anzac Biscuits.

Anzac Biscuits completed.

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.

Growing up.

2010-05-08T02:59:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I am the worst person at following through at what I had said I would do! These past couple of weeks have been absolutely crazy, especially this week as María Antonia y José Antonio have been in the Caribbean, and I've been doing a lot of stuff to help out around the house.

I'm not going to dwell on the past few weeks that I've missed, because if I did, we'd be here till Christmas. Instead, I'll tell you this. Going away on holidays for three weeks and then coming back to school was the best thing that could have happened to me. It showed me just how much my language skills could grow and strengthen in just three small weeks. It showed me that everyday I am progressing. Starting school after three weeks, and seeing the giant leap in my understanding of everything was incredibly amazing, and such an encouragement... another reason why I love holidays!!

I am about to go to Zaragoza for the weekend, so if I end this post incredibly short or in the middle of something, that's why. I just want to get something up, and show you guys a little bit of what I've been up to.

These past two weeks, Spring has come and disappeared. There was about a week, where we were reaching 30 degrees, and I was absolutely loving it. The sun, the smiles people had their faces, the flowers blooming - especially the flowers blooming. I love this time of year, and I was skipping about, smelling the flowers, grinning from ear to ear. A couple of people looked at me strangely, probably thinking about how I was like this when it snowed. I love being able to see how the seasons change - and how we change with it. After about a week of this, the weather suddenly changed. It has been a wintry week, full of rain, dark clouds, and lots of wind. And I have loved it! I love rainy days, and hearing the rain fall on the roof... (not so much here, now that I'm on the bottom floor of a four story house!) I think that I am the type of person that will find something she loves out of everything. So, many people have complained and groaned about the weather, but I am really enjoying it. Can't wait for Spring again, but while this cold, dreary weather is here, I'm going to soak it up!

Me in the windy wind... the umbrella was broken beyond repair!

My town in the rain... How gorgeous!

Another photo of my gorgeous town :)

I have been able to experience so many things here in Spain. I have been continually challenged by typical European stereotypes, and how true they are. There are so many things that I read about Spain that are true, and others that are wrong.

They are LOUD.

My breakfast is very typical of Spain. A hot cup of milk and chocolate (or coffee) with bollos (like buns, but with sugar or something sweet on top).

Night life is crazy. I can be walking around at 2 am in the morning, and it's the equivalent of 8pm on a Friday night in Springwood. Children in prams, people having coffees, people still eating dinner. It's such a shock to see such young kids out so late!
They are very forward. I've had people tell me when I'm blushing, if they think I've lost weight, if I am sounding stupid, if I'm doing something wrong, if I look like an idiot, if I look nice, why someone is really away ("Oh, she has really bad period cramps today, so she's not here."). They're not afraid to hurt your feelings, and not afraid to praise you. It's refreshingly lovely.
The boys are very forward. Pretty much, any foreign girl is going to have to get used to being yelled at ("GUAPAAAAA!!!!" or if you're blonde, "RUBIAAAA!!!") by men, young and old.
The people are warm. So warm and lovely. For me, I am only just starting to see the true depths and colours of my classmates, but it is such a joy. I love watching Savier yelling at the filosofía teacher, or the constant "por faaa's" to go to the toilet, the excited "dame chicle!" when they see you have chewy, the smiles and friendly touches they give each other, the playful banter, the way they interact with each other. Everything just yells Spain, and makes me incredibly happy and excited that this is something I get to experience.
Tortillas. Best things ever invented.
Wine. With every meal (even breakfast!)
Food in general.
Siestas. We have them. The shops close from 2:30-5pm. I actually love that it's closed, and that on Sundays, nothing will be open. So different, and so... relaxing!
Everyone gets angry very quickly. It's not unusual for me to go through a day with 5 different arguments that all lead to loud yelling. Though, five minutes later they'll be laughing and playing like nothing ever happened.
Fiestas. So much fun. So traditionally Spanish.
Everyone smokes. Children (yes, children!) gather outside of the school gates before class starts, smoking, and at the end of the day, as soon as they're out the door, out comes the cigarette and the lighter. My clothes permanently smell of smoke. Something I don't like about Spain!
LOVE FOR FÚTBOL. I really do love it, when I feel like I can hear the whole town scream "GOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!" when a goal is scored.

I've also been excited to discover so many things that are different. I thought it was just the French that wore berets and ate baguettes. I thought it was just the Italians that said, "Mamma mia!" (Though, the Spanish say, "Madre mia!). I love discovering this country and I love that so many Spanish stereotypes are so true.

A Poem for Katherine.

2010-04-30T09:23:00.001-07:00

Katherine, my dear sister (in-law) has sent me 12 months worth of letters. One letter a month, to be opened and enjoyed. I decided to wait until today to open up April's letter, and with this darling letter, came a challenge:

"If you can, write a poem in Spanish today, and post it on your blog!"

So, I did just that. It is a pretty bad poem, using very basic language, and isn't profound or great. But, it's in Spanish. And I wrote it all by myself. And when Ana checked it, she only corrected my feminine and masculine articles. She said it made sense, but that was a bad poem. (Haha!) But I don't care... Because it's in Spanish!

respiro
lentemente y miro.
yo miro a los arboles,
las ojas verdes creciendo.
los flores abriendo.
yo miro a primavera.
cuando llegé,
hacia frio -
era gris.
no hubo ojas,
ni flores.
era invierno.
los estaciones han cambiado,
y con ésta,
vida
ha cambiado.
yo era asustada, ahora
soy emocionada.
yo era timida, y
ahora soy confianza.

primavera ha llegado.
pronto la estacion cambiará
a
verano,
y despues a otoño e
invierno.
sólo
cuatro estaciones puedo
experimentar.

quiero ver
los arboles crecer, y
los flores abrir.
quiero sentir
el calor y nadar en
el mar cristal azul.
quiero
ver las ojas
cambiar de verde a
marrón
a naranja
y a armarillo.
quiero tener
frio y sentir la nieve
en mi piel un otro vez.
muchas cosas a ver,
tan
poco
tiempo.

estoy dispuesta a
luchar.
a luchar por ésta
experiencia.
asi me pongo de pie.
tomo una respirar
profunda y
sonrió.
voy a experimentar
todo.
y cuando yo vuela a
australia,
tendré una maleta llena de cosas,
y un corazón lleno de memorias.

English:

i breathe
slowly and look.
i look at the trees,
the green leaves covering the
branches,
the flowers blooming.
i look at Spring. when i arrived,
it was cold -
it was grey. there weren't leaves on the
trees,
nor flowers blooming.
it was winter. the seasons have changed,
and with this,
life
has changed.
i was scared, now
i am excited. i was
shy, and now
i am
confident.

spring has arrived.
but soon,
the seasons will change to
summer,
and then to autumn and
winter.
only
four seasons i can
experience.

i want to see
the trees grow, and
the flowers
bloom.
i want to feel
the heat and swim
in the crystal blue sea.
i want
to see the leaves change
from green,
to brown,
to orange
and to yellow.
i want to feel
cold
and feel the snow
on my skin one more time.
so many things to see,
so
little
time.

i am willing to
fight.
to fight for this
experience.
so i stand up.
i take a deep breath and
smile.
i am going to experience
everything.
and when i return to australia,
i will have
a suitcase full of things
and a heart full of memories.

Hope you enjoyed my first (but hopefully not last!) Spanish poem! This one was for you Katherine, as you were the one who told me to do it... and I really enjoyed it. Hopefully next time my vocabulary will grow, and it will be better. Who'd have thought about writing poetry in another language?

As you all probably know, I love getting letters. There is something so personal and touching about a handwritten note, knowing that it has traveled from one side of the world to the other. Today, I got a package from Aunty Cath, Uncle Bruce, Sarah, Scott and Sean for my birthday.. Can't wait to open it! I also got a letter from Min. I love getting mail, and I feel as if I'm connected to the person when I read what they have to say. Min, I forgot the word for the detective thing laughed out loud, when I realised I couldn't think of what it was called. Ana looked over at me, and asked, "What are you laughing about?" And I replied without thinking, "Min and I are just having a moment. We can't figure out what this thing is called." She looked at me a little funnily before looking at the drawing and telling me that it was a magnifying glass. I loved getting the mail. It made my day! So thank you to everyone who has sent me a letter during the time I have been here. It has always been greatly appreciated and has always put a smile on my face. I appreciate them more than you can imagine. I have a warm fuzzy feeling just thinking about them.

I am going to start updating this blog in shorter, but more frequent updates. I find that the blogs get so exhausting to do, and are so long, when I try and fit a whole weeks (or more) into one blog. This weekend I will tell you about the last couple of weeks... :)

P.S. No one let me know if the black is bothering you or not... so please do! Use the comment box below. :)

Frustration and that small thing called Spanish.

2010-04-27T08:53:00.000-07:00

Something I really struggle with is frustration.

This week has been a week of trying to figure out what I've been feeling, and why I've been feeling a little bit like a roller coaster. Most of the time I feel so happy, being where I am. Like I wrote in the blog I posted yesterday, I am so excited. So many things bring such joy into my life, but so many things brings disappointment, anger and frustration. Normally I complain to Mum about it, or think about it for half an hour and then get distracted by the next crazy, fun thing in the life of an exchange student. But I think it's about time that I sit up and look at why I feel these emotions, and try to deal with the problems.

"I guess I haven't written anything in my diary because I felt like I didn't have anything to say.... except that I have everything to say. I know that in 10 years time I am going to look back on these past couple of days wondering what I did and how I felt. And I won't be able to remember. I feel a little bit like a puppy. I am getting so distracted. One moment I'm feeling so excited about something new that I've understood, and then the next I'm sad because I feel like I don't understand anything. And it's not just understanding. It's speaking. My understanding of the language is light-years ahead of my speaking. I want to speak Spanish. I do. Desperately. But I just get so scared. Not even scared really. It's just that English is easier to use. I need to get out of that mindset now. Right now. Spanish, here I come. Look out. Laura Konemann is coming!"

I often write in this blog about how exchange is hard, and then go on to say how good it is. Often, the things that exchange so hard, are things that I can't talk about on a public blog.

But, I want to write about these frustrations. I often feel like I'm getting whiplash from the emotions I experience. I feel so incredible blessed to be here in Spain, and I absolutely love it, but with every good thing, there is also the downsides. I get so frustrated and disappointed in my lack of Spanish. I know that I have improved so much from when I first arrived in Spain, but I honestly hoped and thought that I would be soaring along right now. I thought that conversations would be easy, that I would be able to communicate all that I want, and that I'd be actively participating in class by now. I know now, that that was an unrealistic expectation for most exchange students learning another language. But, I also know, that if I applied myself more, I would be further along in my language skills. I can understand so much more than I can communicate, and that just pretty much breaks my heart, that I can't yet express how I'm feeling, or reply back straight away. At home, I speak English with the kids, to help them learn English. This brings me great joy, seeing them improve a little each day, but with that the biggest frustration that the people I spend the most time with, and the people I talk to most, I have to speak English with them.

Everyday I understand a little more. I love understanding, but it also comes with its drawbacks. In school, there is one teacher who stands against everything that I am: English speaking, and faith. I am an English speaker. I am a Christian. Every lesson without fail she tells her class how much she dislikes these two things, which gets me extremely frustrated. My class doesn't like it either, but they say they have to put up with it. I get so... exhausted. Exhausted of trying so hard to understand, only to feel like what she is saying is directed personally to me. Exhausted of understanding everything except the key point. And although I'm understanding some things, most of the time I'm clueless. Especially if the question or statement is directed at me. I'm so sick of being the idiot!

I don't like not understanding, and I don't like it even more when people remind me every single time I don't understand a word or sentence. So often I feel like a failure because I don't apply myself as much as I should, and that I've been here for 11 weeks, and still don't understand a lot. I look at other people's exchanges, and get incredibly jealous of their language skills or their lives, when deep down I know that they are struggling with the exact same things as I am.

This year (so far!) has been a great year of growth for me, as I have learnt to trust and depend on God so much. As I've said in past posts, my family and friends and familiar and safe place is not here in Spain. But God is. And I feel like God has placed me where I am, with the difficulties I have, for a reason. But it doesn't make it any easier. Something that I have greatly struggled with is comfort. Comfort means, "To soothe in time of affliction or distress." I have realised these past couple of weeks, that I have put my comfort in English. Mum told me about how people often put their comfort in other things like food, sport, language instead of God. For me, this past week has been a week of true realisation that I have put my comfort in English instead of God. Things that I think I can control. And, this isn't the way it should be. I use English instead of Spanish because it is easy. I know English. I don't have to be afraid of getting things wrong, or not knowing what to say. I fall back on English too much, so that I leave no space for me to fall and make those language mistakes so I can pick myself up again and learn how to say it properly. I have put my comfort in English instead of God. I have soothed myself, relieved myself of my frustrations (at least I thought I had!) by using English. But, instead of feeling soothed, I feel frustrated. Frustrated at myself, my situation, and the fact that I can't speak Spanish.

This, this post, is me telling the world that I need to put my comfort in God. I need God's unfailing love to be the warm blanket that makes me feel better, for it to soothe my distresses, relieve the pain. English, food, sport, these things can't take away the frustrations or my problems. The only thing that can is God. Instead of trusting in Him properly, stepping forward on this scary thing called exchange, I've run and hidden under a table, excusing myself from getting my hands dirty, telling myself that it's "too scary" or "too hard". I didn't come on exchange expecting it to be easy. I didn't come on exchange to back out or run away from the hard times. I came on exchange to confront these aspects of life that I struggle with, to challenge myself beyond compare. I came on exchange to learn Spanish, experience a culture and gather enough knowledge and memories and experiences to last the rest of my life.

This is me, telling you all publicly that this is my aim of exchange. I don't want to return from exchange full of 'what-ifs'. What if I had learnt Spanish fluently? What if I had tried that dish? What if I had invited myself to that party? I want to let myself fall into the comfort of God's love and spread my wings and truly fly. God has amazing things planned for the rest of this year, and I need to trust in Him and let Him guide me through that.

So what I ask for is prayer. Prayer that I will follow through on what I am saying. Prayer that I will lean on God and have His unfailing love be my comfort. Prayer that I will praise the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort.

The following bible verses are some that have been really eye opening to me, and have given me great comfort over the last day or two. I encourage you to look at your own lives, and see where you have been finding comfort. You may be surprised. I was.

May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant. - Psalm 19:76

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. - 2 Corinthians 1:2-4

I love those who love Me, and those who seek Me early and diligently shall find Me. - (Proverbs 8:17) (Sent to me from another exchanger, Vic - http://stepsandslow.blogspot.com/ )

P.S. After writing all this, I'm still loving my time here, and being encouraged greatly by all that I'm learning and being challenged in.

It's days like these that make us happy.

2010-04-26T23:22:00.000-07:00

Days where I feel my language skills are improving word by word.

Days where I get to walk around my town in the glorious sunshine, purely content and blissful that I am in Spain.

Days where I discover words that I didn't know before, and all of a sudden they are used every 30 seconds.

Days where I read two chapters of Harry Potter in Spanish and fall in love all over again with those books, and fall deeper in love with the beauty of Spanish.

Days where I can share my Australian culture, and find out more about Spain.

Days like these make me happy, and make me feel extremely blessed to be where I am right now.

Thank you Lord for blessing me with such incredible opportunities and such wonderful family and friends.

Santiago de Compostela, Burgos, Leon y mucho más!

2010-04-22T07:51:00.000-07:00

For the Easter Holidays, I was able to travel to a few different places, in the west of Spain. It was such an incredible opportunity, and I felt like I was able to experience a new and different part of Spain and it's incredibly diverse culture.

Ana, myself and María on holidays :)

We left at about 9am from Tudela, to head off. Our final destination was to Santiago de Compostela, but we were stopping by a few famous cities on the way. I was pretty tired, and feeling a little sick, so I slept for the first couple of hours of our travels. I was sitting on the left seat in the car, with Javier in the middle and María on the right. Javier is adorable, and most of the time I had his head in my lap, or on my shoulder. If not, he'd be yelling or playing games or jumping around, or just generally being loud. This made me both treasure the times when he was asleep - because then it was quiet! - and also treasure the times when he was crazy, because for a little bit I could be a bit of a kid again.

María, Javier y yo in the car... travel buddies :)

I slept for about two hours and woke up to see that we were parked outside an old deserted church that was situated at the bottom of a rocky hill. It was absolutely beautiful, and really old an stunning. We all got out to have a look, and I could feel the crisp air swirling around me, with the smell of nature assailing my senses. Oh, how I missed you nature! It reminded me of Kangaroo Valley, even though it didn't look anything like it. I think it was just the association of green, and bush that made me think of home, and with that Nowra and Kangaroo Valley - especially the drive from our place to Nowra.

Me on the little bridge in front of the church.

We all went and looked around the church, poking around when we heard the sounds of small bells. Looking down, we saw some goats... ¡Que mona! (How cute!) It was lovely to see them, and think to myself, "Well, I'm in Spain, outside of an eleventh century church looking down on some cute goats... when does life get better than this?" It was then that I realised that we were about three kilometres out of Frías, a medieval town.

The town of Frías, the castle just being to the left of the end of the photo.

Frías is a small medieval town in the province of Burgos, in the Castilla y Leon region. It has a population of 314 people, and is absolutely gorgeous. It was full of small winding streets, and full of stereotypical Spaniards. We got to go and see the castle that was in Frías, which is absolutely gorgeous and old. It was so much fun to be able to experience such an old and rich history!

"It was so beautiful but I preferred the town over the castle that was there. Don't get me wrong, I love a good old building, but I love the people that live there more. I loved watching the old ladies chatting, and the men with their berets inhaling their cigarettes and pipes. I loved watching the kids playing with the old dogs, who would rather just lay down and sleep, and seeing the working women walking around with armfuls of baguettes to sell. That to me is the beautiful part of town!"

We had some tapas in a bar that was in the style of a tudor house, and it reminded me of England, and made me love history even more! Ana and María told me that I was lucky, because Australia had so little history. All I could do was look over at the view that was in front of me and give thanks that I was so lucky to experience this thing called exchange. I feel so blessed to be right here, right where I am, in these circumstances. Are they what I expected? No, not at all. Did I expect to be further along with my Spanish at this point in my exchange? Yes, I did. But, God has given me this experience, with these challenges, but, he has also given me these great joys. Like, a family who cares for me, they joy of being a sister, and views like the one below. I have loved so much exploring what this year has in store for me, and I am so looking forward to the coming months, because I have so loved these past two!

From Frías, we moved onto Burgos. Burgos was absolutely beautiful! The Plaza Mayor had pink, peach, orange and yellow coloured buildings. Burgos is in the middle of the north of Spain, right in the middle of the country, and is the capital of the province Burgos, in the Castilla y Leon region. Castilla y Leon means Castle and Lion. This means, that in Castilla y leon, there are A LOT of castles. These holidays I was able to see many, and lots of cathedrals, including here in Burgos.

Me outside of the cathedral in Burgos.

The Cathedral in Burgos, is extremely well-known is on the World Heritage List. The cathedrals are all filled with many rooms, all separated by iron fences. This is to give privacy to the different rooms. The cathedrals are all extremely ornate, and to a lot of people, they hold great religious standing. For me, I felt like it was a bit fake. It cost 20 cents to light a candle, everything seemed more about tradition than relationship. I really enjoyed the artistic side about it, but the huge focus on 'you have to do this to be in God's good books' really started to bug me.

Another part of Burgos.

The Plaza Mayor in Burgos.

From Burgos we moved on to Leon. Leon is in the north-west of Spain, and is home to about 130, 000 people. Leon was beautiful, as was Burgos and Frías. There is something other wordly to these old, medieval, unique towns. It's something that you'd never find in Australia, and it completely blows my mind when I see them. I hope I never grow old of seeing these places. For me, I can't really describe them as anything else apart from, 'beautiful', 'gorgeous', because I don't have the words to accurately describe them. I know that 'beautiful' and 'gorgeous' falls short. These towns are captivating, they are their own little worlds. I often feel like I've fallen into a fairy tale when I step into a church or a cobble stoned road. I often can't comprehend that I live in a town with a church from the eleventh century, or that I live right on the longest river in Spain, or that I am here for a year. So many times these pieces of information feel out of my grasp, and because of this, they are indescribable. So, I replace the proper words, words that would justify the beauty of these places, with 'beautiful' or 'gorgeous'. So, when I say these words, I mean much more than them. I mean stunning, unique, like a fingerprint - not one the same anywhere else. When I am in these places, I smile, and it can't be wiped off my face. Because, I am an exchange student. And I get to experience only what other exchange students experience. A world full of adventure, language, excitement, change, wonder. A world full of challenges. A world full of change. I wouldn't have this year any other way.

The Basilica in Leon

We went to look at the Basilica, which was absolutely stunning. We were lucky enough to also see another procession, like the ones we had seen in Zaragoza. It was really different. There was a lot more focus on the brass instruments, so it felt more like a band, than just drumming. In fact, there were hardly any drums, mostly brass instruments. Gramps, you would have loved it. They were all really great, and it was really fun to watch. As Leon is a smaller city, all of the floats were carried by shoulder, which was really exciting to see, as most of the ones in Zaragoza were on wheels. It added a lot more importance and I think culture to the procession, having them on the people's shoulders.

One of the floats in Leon, during the procession.

The brass section in the procession in Leon.

From Leon, we moved onto Ponferrada. We got there at about 11pm, and had dinner at the hotel restaurant. I had the best salad there, that I've ever had. (Of course, barring Dad's salads!) It had raspberries, mulberries, apple, tomatoes, lettuce, cucumber, nuts, onion, balsamic vinegar and oil dressing, cheese, and some other stuff. I could have eaten it every day of my life, so so so good. We finally got to bed at around 12:30am, and woke up at 9:40am, which to my family is an early morning!

We had a lovely buffet breakfast, which was really yummy - Mum, Dad, think of the resort we stayed at for Dad's ball two years ago... the name escapes me. It was so good. We made our way to Ponferrada Castle. Again, it was really beautiful and really interesting, and I loved getting to know some more about Spain.

Ponferrada Castle and the kids and I

We continued to travel toward Santiago de Compostela, and finally arrived in Padrón, which is the town we stayed in, which is about 20 kilometres out of Santiago de Compostela. We didn't want to go into Santiago de Compostela that afternoon, so we went to Carril instead.

Carril is a seaside town in the north-west of Spain, about 50 km from the Portuguese border. Carril was absolutely gorgeous. I was so excited and kept on squealing, "Mar! Mar!" ("Sea! Sea!") Ah, it was so lovely to see the ocean again, and be able to smell it. I love the smell of the ocean, and I loved walking around the town and seeing all of the fishermen and people wandering around. It reminded me of so many things; of Sausalito in San Francisco, of Woy Woy, so many memories associated with that pungent smell of salt water mixed and fish. So many family memories, so many lovely memories that made me feel relaxed, happy and at home. I know the next time I smell that smell, I will be reminded this time, of Carril, and the beauty of that place, and the excitement and wonders of exchange.

The town of Carril

The seaside at Carril.

Me sitting at my 'Spanish seafront'

I figured out how to make panoramas :) Not sure why this is so small though?

Another panorama of Carril, with Ana, then María and then the two of them.

It also reminded me of Shirley Valentine and how she 'sat down on a Greek seafront'. I told my host family that a Spanish seafront would do for me. How lucky am I to be able to experience such beautiful wonders as this? Carril is famous for their clams, so we had a dish of them, and it cost us about 50 euros! But, oh were they worth it. I feel so proud of myself. Something I promised myself was to try everything while I was in Spain. If I had been in Australia, I wouldn't have eaten them, but I ate them, and they were delicious!

José Antonio y María Antonia at our table, looking at the sunset.

Javier was feeling sick at this time, so we went back to Padrón. In Spain, each town celebrates a week of fiestas, and this week was Padrón's week. There were rides, markets and so much music! It was so much fun! We walked around, looking at all of the things, and Javier went on the trampolines, while María and I went on the dodgem cars. In Australia, the dodgem cars all travel in the one direction and everyone wears seatbelts. Here, in Spain, there is no such thing as seatbelts, and one direction? More like ten. All I can say, is that it was so much more dangerous, and so much more fun than Australian dodgem cars!

While we were on the dodgem cars, Javier decided to throw up everywhere, so that cut our night short. We quickly ate some dinner and went to bed eagerly awaiting the next morning.... Santiago de Compostela...

Monday we went to Santiago de Compostela. For those of you who don't know, Santiago de Compostela is a city that is extremely famous, as it is often the ending point for the famous walk, Camino de Santiago. Santiago was a Saint, and was buried at the sight of the church in Santiago. Around his burial site, the cathedral and then the rest of the town was built. For many people, the Cathedral of Santiago is an incredibly religious and sacred site.

Me at Santiago de Compostela.

We got to Santiago de Compostela at about 11:30 am and I was speechless. It was so amazing to be able to see this site that so many people walk to - from 1km to thousands of km. I think my favourite part was seeing the people who had finished arriving at the destination. I could see their bodies change into relaxation and their smiles on their faces were incomparable. A lot of the time I prefer the people to the sites, because the people tell me so much more. I love looking at people and seeing how they react to things, and seeing locals walk around their town. I felt a stirring within, and knew that I wanted to do this. Go on a walk, a long walk, and end up somewhere. Something about carrying your life on your back for any amount of time, walking through the wilderness, meeting people, buying foreign foods, experiencing life on foot. Ahh, I cannot wait to do it. I read a book before I left for Spain called, "A Slow Journey South", which was about a couple who walked from England to Africa. When I read it, I knew it was something I wanted to do. But now, being able to see the end result. It is on my list of to-do's.

Us at Santiago de Compostela, with the Cathedral in the background.

Santiago de Compostela has an important date - the 25th of July. I think this is the day of Saintiago, and when this date falls on a Sunday, a special door is opened for the year. This year, the 25th of July falls on a Sunday, so the door was opened. Everyone told me that I was extremely lucky and blessed to be able to walk through the door. We walked through the door, and then walked up to the statue of Santiago. Everyone hugged and kissed it, before moving on to listen to the church service. It bugged me a little - everyone hugging and kissing the statue, as if it was going to save their lives.

"I find that so many people in Spain hold too much importance on the physical and the 'religion' and not enough focus on the relationship. The reason this church is so famous is because the body of Santiago was found here. It hink it's stupid! But everyone hugged and kissed the statue and then we went to the church service. It was so lovely to be a part of a church service. Sure, it was cold, and... it didn't feel passionate; but it was still me and god. That's all that matters. nothing else matters for anyone as long as they believe that Christ came to die in place of them - 'For God so loved the world he sent his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him will never die but have eternal life.' Nothing else then, not the pendants, saints, popes, Santiagos matter. All I hope, is that my family has found that."

Inside the cathedral.

After exploring the church, we had lunch at a restaurant - paella, and a lobster and rice dish. I had so much fun cracking open my lobster and sucking out the meat. I felt so accomplished of myself for doing that and having fun, and not turning my nose up at it. I think that exchange has taught me many important things - one of those being able to adapt. I have to say that the Spanish food wasn't my favourite at the beginning of exchange, but each day it really is growing on me.

Me with my lobster.... yummy!

After lunch we got to have a tour of the Church, which was very interesting. Mainly because it was in Spanish, spoken by a Galician. Spain is like every English spoken country placed in the one continent. Each province represents a different country. Andalucia is like a bogan accent, no one likes it, and people can't really understand them. Castilly y Leon and Navarra (biased!) is the best Spanish... so proper English, the poshest of the posh. Galicia is more like America. Each region has a different accent. So for me, someone who struggles with my own region's Spanish, I certainly struggled with this lady's accent! Especially because Galicians are known for speaking ridiculously fast.

It was great, because we were able to go onto the roof of the Cathedral, and I thought to myself, "How many people get to do this in their lifetime? How lucky am I?!" I felt incredibly blessed.

Me on the roof of the Cathedral.

The next couple of days, we spent going through small towns, stopping in O'Grove, a fishing village, where we went on a cruise. I got to talk to my parents while I was on it, which was so so lovely! We also stopped off at another seaside town, though I can't remember its name, to watch them unloading the fish. Unfortunately, we were 12 hours early, as they did it at 6 in the afternoon, not 6 in the morning! Alas, I saw the most beautiful sunrise, and I felt so excited to be up so early.

The fam and I on the cruise.

Talking to Mum and Dad on the cruise.... HELLO!!

Javier and I :)

The Sunset we saw.

The trip back to Zaragoza was really beautiful. I was awake for all of it this time! It was so interesting to see the views change from green to yellow, to brown, back to green. It was absolutely beautiful. We stopped off at a truck stop and played some soccer, while watching the sun set, before arriving in Zaragoza. It was Wednesday, and I was desperately wanting a shower, as I hadn't had one all day... except the gas in the piso wasn't working, so I couldn't have a shower. We spent from Wednesday to Saturday night in Zaragoza. And I didn't have a shower!!! It was horrible. I had bird baths everyday, with just cold water. But my family didn't have a shower at all. To me, there couldn't be anything worse.

The beautiful countryside... yellow this time.

Sunset we saw on our way to Zaragoza.

I also had to buy some clothes while I was in Zaragoza... and it was incredibly stressful, because I was the only one buying clothes, and none of the clothes (jeans) fit because they were all too long, so I tried on kids jeans but they all had elastic instead of real jeans. It really made me not like shopping. But in the end I found some, and there was a small amount of time that I enjoyed it, when Ana, María and I were trying on hats and sunglasses. I am really enjoying bonding with my 'sisters', and I'm really enjoying be able to say sisters. I love having sisters. They make me miss my sisters in Australia - Jas and Katherine. How much I love them and miss them. I can't wait until I return and I can hang out with them again!

Ana y María trying on glasses, scarves, and hats.

I also got to go to the movies three times while I was in Zaragoza. I saw Nanny McPhee, How To Train Your Dragon and The Bounty Hunter. I loved How To Train Your Dragon, and really liked Nanny McPhee. The Bounty Hunter was alright, but a lot harder to understand!

On the Friday I was feeling a bit 'homesick' but for Tudela. I just wanted familiarity, computer, movies, home. That feeling that your home, you can shower, you can do whatever you want. I prayed to God about it, and then on Saturday we went to a park, called El Parque Grande. The Big Park. And it was the biggest answer to prayer. It was the perfect morning. I was there with my host family, we were all hanging out together and having fun. The weather was perfect, twenty degrees! María and I hired a bike and rode around the park, and I was just so content. There were cafeterías around in the park, so I sat down and had a coffee, reading Harry Potter in Spanish, listening to the Spanish mingling around me. I felt like God was showing me that I didn't need Tudela, or a computer or movies, because God would supply for me. And he has supplied this amazing year abroad full of tastes and smells and sights and languages that makes my heart beat fast in excitement. God showed me that all I needed was him. And what a great encouragement that is!

Me riding the bike around El Parque Grande.

María riding the bike in El Parque Grande.

That is the end of my holidays, but not the end of my adventures. :) A blog about the past two weeks will hopefully be up tomorrow or Saturday (hoping that my blogger works). Also, I've had different people comment on the colour of my background. Do you prefer a white or black background? Please use the comment box to let me know....

Love you all x x

Semana Santa.

2010-04-19T14:39:00.000-07:00

I've been having some trouble with my blogger, so I haven't been able to get these blogs up, so sorry about the delay!...

Semana Santa... Easter. I was lucky enough to experience another type of Easter this year. Semana Santa is what Easter is called, and the differences don't end at the name. Semana Santa has easily been the most culturally different thing I have experienced in Spain thus far, and it was incredible to see and experience and be apart of something so radically different. I was so eager to see what everyone was making a fuss about, as everyone had told me that Easter in Spain was different; I had seen photos, and agreed that it was. But, experiencing it first hand... I was completely shocked and intrigued and fascinated by the events of Semana Santa.

Semana Santa directly translates to 'The Week of the Saint'. All throughout Spain, it is celebrated; the biggest celebration being held in Sevilla (Seville), in the south of Spain. It officially starts on the Thursday (1/4/10) and runs through to the Sunday. One big thing for me, was that they don't give out Easter eggs. :( That is to say, that Easter eggs have been introduced into Spain, as the western phenomenon has reached Spain. But Easter eggs are not important, and only some small children get them. So, I had an Easter without Easter eggs, which was... strange. I was looking forward to my Easter eggs, and it made me realise how much I look forward to them, when I should be focusing all of attention on the real reason for Easter - Jesus' death and resurrection.

I got to go with my host family to Zaragoza to celebrate the Semana Santa celebrations. Each town, big or small celebrates Easter, but the larger the city, the larger the celebration. And because Zaragoza is home to la Basilica del Pilar, the Semana Celebrations are quite large and flamboyant. The celebrations start on the Thursday, during the day. I arrived at around 8pm, and didn't see anything on the way in, so felt like they were making a big fuss out of nothing. At around 9:30pm we left el piso (the flat)...

"I couldn't see anything; there were lots of people wandering around, and then I hear it... BOOM!! Big, deep drum beats echoing through the streets. Another beat, and then another, and other, steadily quickening; just like my racing heart. I still can't see anything. The drums continue, getting louder every second as they get closer to where I'm standing... and then I see it; tips of the hats. They are all deep purple. Tips slowly turn into all of the hat, then the covered, hooded faces and finally, their full bodies. Their purple robes illuminate against the dark night. It is something I have never experienced before. They're all in lines, slowly, somberly marching down the streets, las carreterras, the drums and their beats what they set their steps to. I look on with my mouth wide open, and I look around me, feeling a sense of guilt. I don't really know why, but I guess because they look so much like the KKK, that I feel like I'm taking part in a racist activity, rather than remembering Christ's death. I ask María Antonia why they wear the outfits and she tells me that it's a sign of repentance - a way to show that they are sorry for killing Christ, and for all of the sins that they have committed."

This is of one groups of the manolas. Each different coloured robe signifies a specific part of Jesus' death and resurrection.

These processions continue all through the night. We stayed out until about midnight, having tapas, and wine (Spanish wine is excellent!) and finally getting to bed at around 12:30... an early night for the Spanish people! The next morning I woke up bright and early, ready to see what else I was going to see that day... all I heard was silence, and sure enough, no one was awake. I ended up sleeping in till 10:30am and got to have breakfast and get ready for the day. Things didn't start until 5pm, so I had a good six hours to spare. I took my journal, my camera, some money and myself out and decided to go to El Palacio del Alajafería, which is a palace in Zaragoza. José Antonio told me that it was quite a walk, so told me where to catch the bus, and how long the bus ride would take (15 minutes). I got to the bus stop, took bus 32, and asked the conductor how long it would take to get to El Palacio. He said around five minutes. I sat down in the only spare seat, facing away from the driver. Three bus stops and two minutes later, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see the bus driver standing next to me, asking me why I wasn't getting off to see the palace. I felt like such an idiot! I quickly stood up and went to exit the bus, but tried to exit out of the entrance. So, I finally exited the bus with a red-as-a-tomato face, feeling like the most stupid person in the world. There are some things I haven't quite figured out yet! El Palacio del Aljafería is an Arabic style palace. It was originally built by the Muslim population in Spain, and when the Christians conquered them, it was converted into a more Romanic style. I absolutely love the Arabic arquitecture, and it reminds me of Aunty Rob and Uncle Matt. I really enjoyed seeing it, but I love visiting things with other people, I think it makes it much more enjoyable. As I was leaving I knew I had two options; catch the bus home, or walk. I don't think I really understand the Spanish culture very well, or at least my host family! In Tudela, we walk everywhere. But, as soon as they get to a point where it would take longer than a minute in a car, they use the car. I, personally love walking. I love walking to school, letting the walk wake me up completely, and I love walking and discovering new things. The walk to El Palacio del Aljafería would have taken at most 15 minutes. So, I decided to walk. And I loved it. I had no idea where I was going, but I had a general idea. It took me about 20 minutes getting lost a couple of times, but I got to the main plaza. Feeling accomplished, I bought myself a coffee at this lovely cafetería, sitting outside, the sun making me feel all warm and lovely. It was such a nice way to spend my afternoon.

At around 5pm, we went down to the main street of Zaragoza to see the procession of Friday night. This is the biggest night, and this one procession started at 6pm and went for 6 hours. It was crazy. We were able to see the beginning of it, and it was really really interesting. At the front of the procession, there was a man wearing no shoes, with a bell in his hands, hooded, wearing black.

I asked why he was at the front of the group, and why he wasn't wearing shoes. María Antonia answered, "Every year, during Semana Santa, Zaragoza lets one prisoner go. They let him go to remember how the people let Barrabus go, instead of Jesus."

"So when the crowd had gathered, Pilate asked them, "Which one do you want me to release to you: Barabbas, or Jesus who is called Christ?" For he knew it was out of envy that they had handed Jesus over to him. While Pilate was sitting on the judge's seat, his wife sent him this message: "Don't have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him." But the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus executed. "Which of the two do you want me to release to you?" asked the governor. "Barabbas," they answered. "What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called Christ?" Pilate asked. They all answered, "Crucify him!" "Why? What crime has he committed?" asked Pilate. But they shouted all the louder, "Crucify him!" When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. "I am innocent of this man's blood," he said. "It is your responsibility!"
Matthew 27:17-25

I found it so incredible that they actually let a prisoner go. It was beyond my comprehension, and I found it so crazy to think that every year a city actually let a real prisoner go, just like Pilate did when Jesus was crucified. Blows my mind.

I found a lot of people not wearing shoes, some people even wearing chains around their feet.

I asked María Antonia again why they did not wear shoes, and she replied that wearing no shoes was another sign of respect and repentance. She told me that a lot of people who bore great guilt and pain over their sins often walked in the Semana Santa processions without any shoes, as a way to physically show their repentance, asking for forgiveness.

Mum sent me an email about her Easter, and wrote this:

"As we came in we got a big nail and part way through the service we nailed our nails into a life size wooden cross that was lying on the floor in the middle of the room, lying on a crumpled sheet with candles around it. As they did each reading they would come and blow one candle out....sort of like snuffing the life out of Jesus by our sins. As the lady who wore a robe at the service we went to last time came to nail her candle in she could barely walk with the grief of it all and was sobbing as she nailed her nail in.....2 women came and helped her walk to her seat. I had mixed feelings with this. I feel that we can't look at Good friday without the filter of Easter resurrection Sunday and although we are sad, it is a sadness filled with hope. Her grief seemed so profound that I wondered whether she felt she had received forgiveness for her sins or not.....(gee I wonder what SHE did???) And a part of me thought that I don't take my many sins seriously enough. Mhhhhmmmm.....something to think about."

This is something that was really apparent to me as well, throughout the Semana Santa processions. I found it extremely confronting to see the hooded manolas, who were hooded as a way to show repentance and respect as well.

"I think the Spanish and the Australians, (well, at least myself) have completely different associations with robes and hooded people. I think of the death eaters out of Harry Potter, executioners, the KKK... But the Spanish people associate the robes and hoods as reverence, respect, repentance. It was so interesting to see how our associations of something can change our meaning of a situation and our understanding of an event. I saw the hoods and robes at first as something wrong, something to be feared, something to feel guilty about. But now, it's Sunday, and the robes are off as people are dancing down the street celebrating the resurrection of Jesus. It's something completely different, and has challenged me in the way I let things affect the way I perceive different things. It's definitely something for me to think about!"

I didn't bring my bible with me to Zaragoza, and had wished I had. I struggled with the distinction between relationships with God, and the physical, ritualistic side of religion, that is very apparent in Spain. Instead, Brad sent me a text message that pretty much summed up everything I needed to hear.

"Hi family! Good Friday! I hope you've all had a fantastic day remembering the cross. 'He died for all so that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.' 2 Corinthians 5:15. Have a great weekend! Love B + K'

I wrote that out in my diary, and underneath that I wrote,

"Looking back on what I've written, it feels like God has answered my questions with Brad's text message. Thank you God, for placing words I need to hear in front of me. Thank you for continuing to reveal yourself to me, and thank you for the life you've given me. I'm so thankful. Thank you for your sacrifice, and the promise of life that comes with that sacrifice."

Madrid, the place of art, music, culture and adventure.

2010-04-13T12:03:00.000-07:00

I have been so incredibly busy these past three weeks; from Madrid, to Semana Santa in Zaragoza, to travelling west, exploring the diversity and culture of this wonderful country. This was meant to be posted yesterday, but I my blogger was 'undergoing maintenance'. My blog is split into three parts:

Madrid:
Semana Santa
Vacaciones

Today I'm posting up my time in Madrid, tomorrow Semana Santa, and Thursday Vacaciones. So sorry for anyone who has been waiting to hear what's been happening in my life!

I was lucky enough to be able to go to Madrid from the 24-27/3/10, as my class was on vacaciones en Amsterdam. I would have loved to have gone, but I wasn't able to. Instead, I was able to go to Madrid, as I didn't have class during the time they were gone. I got to stay with a friend of my Mum, who lives in Madrid. They know each other from Uni, and I met Joc a couple of days before I went to Madrid. I was really excited about the opportunity to spend some time together and get to know each other a little better! Joc has been an extremely wonderful support to me during my time in Spain. She has called me up to check how I'm going, and has offered her time to me, as someone to chat to - as a fellow Australian, who knows what it's like to move to another country. Needless to say, I had a fantastic time in Madrid, and like everything in life, it was an adventure, filled with both ups and downs...

Joc and I

I set my alarm on Wednesday the 24/3 for 6am, as my bus left at 7:30am. I still needed to pack, and I wanted to have a shower and have breakfast before I left, and I also needed to buy a ticket to get to Madrid. I wanted to have time and start my holiday on a relaxed note. I slept through my alarm. I woke up at 6:45am, sitting straight up in bed, knowing that I was late. I quickly rushed, brushing my teeth, packing my bag, finally carrying them upstairs at 7am, ready to walk to walk to the station and have enough time to buy my ticket. José Antonio was just leaving for work so he told me that I could get a lift with him to the station. It's about a 5 minute brisk walk to the station, or a 2 minute drive, so I gladly said '¡Gracias!' and opened the front door to leave. At 7:15 (15 minutes before the train left) we finally made it out the door, only to find out that we had to walk half the way to the station to get the car! Oh, the Spanish way of thinking is beyond me sometimes! I got to the station at about 7:25 and quickly bought my ticket and boarded the bus. My stomach was grumbling, as I hadn't been able to desayunar, (eat breakfast) as we left Tudela. I looked eagerly out the window looking forward to seeing the countryside, and see more of Spain. After about half an hour, the bus stopped at a random cafetería, and told us that we were waiting here for a while. I didn't really know why, but I took my chance to buy a freshly made croissant and a bottle of water. Something that I will never grow tired of, is the baking in Spain. Everyone associates fantastic bread and croissants with France... but here in Spain, oh my, it is delectable. It makes me wonder what bread is like in France, because I feel I could eat a whole baguette every meal! After eating my steaming hot croissant, the bus driver decided to drive another bus, so we got out and switched busses. After about another hour of driving, we swapped busses again at a town called Soria. When I first travelled to Tudela, after being in Spain two days, I did this swap, but felt completely lost and overwhelmed. After the help of a man who spoke English, I got on the right bus. This time however, I moved with great confidence, asking the bus conductor where I needed to go, and got to the bus without any hassle whatsoever. Being able to make these comparisons is just great, and allows me to see just how much my Spanish has improved, and with that, my confidence in myself and my speaking skills. The drive to Madrid was really beautiful, filled with a diverse countryside.

After about 5 and a half hours in total, I finally arrived in Madrid! I caught the metro to Atocha train station, which is the closest to Joc's apartment. Here, in Spain, everything is done differently. This includes busking. In Australia, busking normally happens outside. People playing music, doing tricks, pulling people in and doing shows. Here, in Madrid, musicians live in the metros. They have a portable amp, and they just hop onto a metro for a station or two, play their music, and then walk around to get money off people. It was so unusual for me to see. The first time I thought to myself, "Hey, this is actually great. I wish they did this in Australia!" But later, I realised how it could quickly get very annoying, when all you want is a little peace and quiet.

Joc is situated in a prime place. She lives in between the Prado Museum, and the Retiro, which is a beautiful, and enormous park. She is right in the centre of everything. A 15 minute walk from the Plaza Del Sol, 3 minute walk from the Prado, 2 minute walk from the Retiro. And her place is stunning. I felt so blessed to be able to experience Madrid, and to have someone so kind to open their place for me. It was great to get to hang with Joc, chat about everything and eat... Bocadillos de ensalada! (Salad sandwhiches!) On the Wednesday afternoon, we got to walk around in the Retiro, which is just a stunning park. It is huge, and is filled with lots of different sections.

Public facilities so people can play tennis and fútbol

The Blossom Garden

The Crystal Palace

The memorial for the metro bombing in... 2003?
The Lakey thing, where you can ride boats.

The Retiro is absolutely gorgeous, and I could have (and did!) spent hours there. That night, I was able to go to a Bollywood dancing class. It was really fun. It was really fun to just learn some of those moves, and our teacher was awesome. She was so expressive in her movements, but more so in her facial expression. Bollywood dancing is as much about your facial expression as your movements. It was amazing to see her transform a single movement into a story.

I spent the next couple of days exploring the city, drinking coffees, taking photos, hearing Spanish, people watching, and going to museums. Ah, museums, how I love them. But what I love even more, is student cards! Because I have a student card, the cost is cut by more than half, making my trip a lot cheaper.

I got to go to places like the Prado, where I got to see, in real life, artworks that I had studied in art. It was so incredible to see them, and I got so excited, almost squealing in delight, that I had a few people look at my in curiosity as I looked at the paintings.

"I was so shocked to find so many amazing artworks at the Prado. I saw the 3rd of May - Goya! and Saturn, by Goya! There is nothing like seeing artworks I've studied in real life. And the funny thing is, is that I didn't know that they were there, and then I turned around and let out this huge gasp when I saw them there, right within my grasp. Just staring, studying the painting I've studied before, but up close, able to see the paint strokes and the textures and tones, right in front of me, so close, just a hands length away."

On the Thursday night, I got to go to a Flamenco night. There are so many things about Spain that I love, and I have definitely fallen in love with Flamenco. Flamenco is a traditional part of Spain, coming from down south in Andalusia. It is made up of three components: the dance, the singing, and the guitars. With these three combined, a magical and incredible experience is created. I went to a Flamenco bar with Joc, and was able to see an hour and a half show. It had 2 guitarists, two singers (one man, one woman), two dancers, a flautist, and a percussionist.

The Flamenco singer.

The Flamenco dancer.

The other Flamenco Dancer. The wine glass you see is the one she's about to knock over.

"I was moved by the way the three components of the Flamenco were pieced together to show me something so beautiful. The music was so soulful, and I could hear that they were telling me a story. This was also emphasised through the dancers. The dancers moved their feet, their hands, their eyes locked to each other the whole time. The man's hair had been wet, so that when he moved his head, the water sprayed everywhere. They moved so fast, so gracefully, so full of emotion. Their movements told a love story, the facial expressions, hands, feet, music, singing, all showing us their story. Their story of how they met, fell in love, the troubles they faced, but how loved conquered. It was an amazing experience, and the whole time I had goosebumps down my arms. I looked over to the guitarists and they both had a huge silly grin on their faces. That was my favourite part of the night. To see such joy and passion in what they were doing. That and when the female dancer whipped her shawl over her shoulder, making it hit a wine glass at on the front tables, making it fly through the air, shattering, before landing all over a lady."

On Friday, I went to the Thyssen in the morning. The Thyssen is another art museum, that is set out in a really interesting way. It starts on the third floor, at the beginning of AD, and works its way down to the first floor, and to the present day. It was really interesting to see how art has progressed and I loved that there was a Kandinsky painting, of when he painted subjects, and then afterwards when he didn't. :)

That afternoon I was meant to meet Vic, one of the other exchange students for lunch. I was half an hour early to the train station, so I decided to go to the little park in between the two sides of the road to wait. When I crossed the road, I was surrounded by 5 young teenage girls, asking me to sign a petition. I didn't really want to so just told them that I didn't speak Spanish, but they just swapped to English. They were very close to me, and I didn't feel at all comfortable, but decided to sign the petition so I could go, as I couldn't really walk away, as they had all surrounded me. I quickly signed it but they wanted to check where I lived and my signature or something. I was not at all comfortable at this point, and felt that they were up to something. I felt like I'm guessing Mum felt like, when we were in Tijuana, in Mexico. I just wanted to get out of the situation I was in. Again, they were really pushy, so I quickly got out my wallet to show them my I.D.. While I did this however, one of the girls grabbed all the money I had in my wallet (over 100 euros, as I had just got it out from the bank, having just gotten back the money I had been stolen from me when I had credit card fraud!) and sneakily pass it to one of the other girls. They didn't think that I had seen it. Oh, but unfortunately for them, I had. And I was frustrated. Very frustrated. I think I probably growled and then said, "Oi! Give me back my money!" They did a feigned, 'what are you talking about' look, but I wouldn't have any of it. I said loudly again, "Give me back my money!" The girl who had my money looked resigned, and gave me back twenty euros. Thinking that maybe they had only taken that amount I slipped it back in my wallet only to see that I still had another seventy euros missing.

"I looked up and saw that they had gone. I looked over my shoulder to see them running away. I had a million emotions running through me - anger, indignation, panic, frustration... a LOT of frustration. And a little fear. I squared my shoulders. I thought to myself, 'I just got that money back from the credit card fraud. There is NO WAY I'm letting them get away with it. The fear, panic, apprehension left me, and was replaced with frustration. Lots of frustration. And calm. I squared my shoulders and yelled, "Give me back my money!" I thought to myself, "Do not mess with me" and I ran. I started to run after them. They crossed the road, with all the cars stopped at a red light, so I ran after them, yelling "PARA! PARA!" (Stop! Stop!) We then crossed back over the road, jumped a fence, all the while me running after them yelling at the top of my lungs telling them to stop. I saw a man running alongside them, and I wasn't sure if he was with them or not. Turned out he wasn't with them. I finally caught one of the girls and angrily said, "Me das mi dinero!!" (Give me my money!) Turns out, the girl with all my money had run off in another direction. The man who had been running was yelling at them, and it was at this point that all of my adrenalin left me. And with that, so did my Spanish. I followed them across the road, and we finally met up with the other girl. Again I said, "Me das mi dinero!" She gave me ten euros, so I said, "Más, más. Me faltan 50 euros" (More, more. I'm missing 50 euros.) At this point, a lady came and told me that she spoke English. She helped translate everything for me. They searched their bags, and finally I got the rest of my money back. I said thanks to the lady, and she just looked at me, opened her bag and said, "We're undercover policemen. We've been trying to catch them, and saw that they had robbed you. We're just doing our jobs. We've got some more police coming now."

I felt so blessed to have been seen by the undercovere policemen, and I felt like God had been protecting me the whole time. I called Vic, and told her what happened, and she came to the police station with me to make a report. We got to ride in the police cars, and they put on the sirens for us. It was a pretty surreal experience! They didn't offer us a way back, so we had to walk all the way back to the apartment, and I talked to Mum and Dad on Skype (waking them up at 2am in the process!) and had a little cry. After that, I met up with the other exchange students for tapas.

A reenactment of the robbing, where it took place.

I love hanging out with the other SEA exchange student kids. We are all at the same stage of our exchange, and we are all experiencing and going through the same things. It was so nice to hang out with them and chat about everything.

Vic, Rachael and Bettina at a tapas bar.

Joseph, Myself and Brinton in Madrid.

Overall, it was such an eventful weekend. I loved every moment of it. Even the robbery. Afterwards, I was like, heck yes! I fully chased those girls, caught them, JUMPED over a fence in the process, and was seen by undercover policemen. It felt like something out of a dream.

"What a couple of days it's been. I think I'm one of those exchange students that go on exchange, and comes home witha year packed full of life experiences, adventures and trips. I think that I have experienced more in my 7 weeks in Spain that some exchangers would experience in their year abroad.. or even some people experience in their whole life! I feel so incredibly blessed that God has given me such an amazing opportunity, and it is my only hope and prayer that I will be used by God, and that I will learn from everything he gives me this year - both good and bad. Sometimes I feel like I'm not learning anything, but then I look back and see the incredible journey I've been on and I can only sum up my entire life and adventures in six small words:
Only through God is this possible.

Thank you God for giving me this life. Help me to live it to the fullest and live to serve and glorify you."

Vacaciones are approaching!

2010-03-22T09:04:00.000-07:00

I never know when I am going to be writing my blogs. I assumed at first that I would do them every Friday, but most Fridays I hang out with the family and then talk on Skype, and then I'm too tired to do anything. Saturday and Sunday are when I hang out with family, see the sites and do different things, making the weekend not a very ideal time to be writing a blog. Then school comes, and I get caught up in that and the after school activities... I always feel like, "Oh, I have to write my blog today." I blame it all on procrastination. Procrastination makes you (well, at least me) believe that everything I do, such as writing in this blog, is something that I don't enjoy. But I love writing in this blog... it just takes me a while to get around to doing it!

This week has been good, and has made me appreciate who I am and who I've been raised to be. It has been a week of discovering a little more about the Spanish lifestyle, and enjoying all that life has to bring.

I am normally a friendly person. I am normally that person that welcomes the new kid, or goes and says hello to someone that I don't know. I am normally a person that says "Hello!" really enthusiastically. I am normally a passionate person, and that is shown through my personality. Since I have been in Spain, I have found it extremely difficult to be that person. I have been shy. I have said, "Hola." instead of "Hola!" I thought I would come on exchange being the same enthusiastic person I am in Australia, and instead all I can think of is making a nice impression on people. It is hard to communicate who you are to a different culture, in a different language. I have really struggled with this, and this week have really let go of the shyness. I was talking to Adjowa, this week, about this subject, and how we have both felt so frustrated about letting the thoughts of others dictate how we act and react. We are who we are. I am proud of who I am, and where I've come from. Dad sent me an email also about this, and particularly about a change of character in general, and it came just at the right moment.

"You haven't left you behind... You will always be the same "me" (you) but different. Different because you are happy to learn and learning brings understanding. Understanding brings confidence. Confidence brings wisdom. Wisdom brings compassion. Compassion brings life. Life brings more life...You already are the person you want to be but haven't yet embraced all that you want to do, that God has prepared for you or the challenges that lie ahead... But you will always be you. That never gets left behind and the you that you are is somebody I love dearly and will always love to the depths of my heart, and to Pluto and back!!

So as you continue, that same you continues on your incredible journey be grateful for all that you have, the opportunities that come to you, the people you get to meet and the incredible lovely you, you are."

I have felt myself embracing what Dad's email says; that I am me, but I will learn and grow, and from that, grow into the person that God has set before me. And with this mindset, I have been letting go of what people think and allowing myself to be who I am. I know that my class has noticed this, and we have started chatting more, and I've started to get to know them more. It's not easy, but I keep putting myself out there by starting conversations. This week has been a great week, where I've opened up more to my class, joked around with them, they've joked back with me. Yesterday I did the 'I broke my nose!' (covering your nose with your hands and using your nail against your tooth to make a cracking sound) and they all fell for it and for ages were like OH MY GOODNESS! And then today, they did one right back at me. I felt like the biggest idiot at how gullible I was, but laughed along with them. I am enjoying my class more and more, and am starting to feel like I am part of the class. Part of being in a class is participating in the class, which is what I did last Thursday. Thursday was a joke of a day. Spanish schooling is extremely different to Australian school, and it has made me appreciate the schooling, and the education I've had. Spain is yet to understand the concept of substitute teachers. I am the newest and biggest fan of substitute teachers. Without substitute teachers, Australian education would be like Spanish education, where, if there is no teacher, there is no class. This is trivial and fun for any new exchanger in a new, exciting, different school (and country). You go to the library, smiling to yourself, because there is no class. I have been in Spain over six weeks, and I now have compassion for the Spanish students. Those days without their teachers, are days wasted not learning. Our history teacher has been away for a whole week, so we've missed out on a whole weeks worth of lessons. I cannot believe the stress the Spanish education system puts on these kids, as they have to learn what they should learn in class, without a teacher, by themselves. Thursday, I only had two classes, P.E. and Lengua, as the teachers were away for every other class, except for Latín, where the class didn't turn up...? I didn't really understand why, but it meant no class. Sitting silently in a library, (which has about 100 books... literally... for 1300 students) is only fun or slightly stimulating for a short period of time; not four hours. We had Lengua last period, and we were meant to watch una pelicula (movie) but, the projector broke. This meant that they had no lesson, so everyone was chatting with the teacher about Abortion. I didn't know this at the time, as I couldn't understand what they were all saying, so I tuned out, only to tune back in when Adjowa said to the class, "Laura has something to say about Abortion." Adjowa and I had discussed the issue of abortion just the day before, and we shared our views on it and it was a really good discusion. Adjowa quickly filled me in saying that the whole class was all for abortion, and wouldn't think twice about getting one. I, on the other hand, have different views on abortion, so she wanted me to share this with the class. I didn't even know how to say abortion in Spanish, let alone explain my views on it, so translated through Raquel, a girl in my class.

I said that I would never have an abortion, and that I think people shouldn't have them, but said that I thought that they were inevitable in certain situations, like ectopic pregnancies. This immediately started a big debate, as it was a polar opposite to what the entire class thought. They asked me why I thought it was wrong, and I stated my reasons, which then started a debate about what stage of pregnancy a baby is actually alive for. Looking back, it was pretty hilarious, a mixture between Spanish and English, and my class acting out becoming pregnant to try and get their points across. It was pretty crazy, and at first I felt uncomfortable being so obviously apart and different from everyone else, but as I kept talking and we started discussing, I realised that it didn't matter if my views were different from theirs. It was a great wake up moment.

Apart from the fact that I only had two classes on Thursday, and I really didn't enjoy the library times, I absolutely loved the day. It was the last day of school for the week, as it was Fathers Day on the Friday, so we had un puente (long weekend). And spring was in the air.

"The walk home was glorious, A perfect spring day, that made me smile as I walked home in the sun, with a crisp breeze cooling me down. Listening to music when I walk takes me to another place, and I am able to experience my town on a whole new level. I walked around town, listening to my Ipod, with the overwhelming sense to dance. These days are why I chose to go on exchange. They make me feel so alive, like... completely different to anything else I've ever experienced.

I sat on a bench in the park just marveling at teh beauty of Tudela. Even though it has its ugly parts about it, I look at the town with love. I am biased towards it, and I think to myself, 'who could ever not think that Tudela is the most beautiful town in Spain?' And as I say this I realise it is because of the memories I have of that path, where I chatted with Ana about my day, and that shop where I bought that lolly from. As I think about these memories, and 'my Tudela' I realise that Tudela has taken a little piece of my heart, which makes me wonder how broken I'll feel in 10 months time when I have to leave. I sat down on teh park bench and watched the sun slowly set over the cathedral, then over the bridge, finally sinking below the buildings. I sat there in awe.

How blessed to be able to experience this. I make sure I stop everyday to look at the view on the bridge over the train station on the way to school, because I don't want to become complacent. I want everyday to be like today. A day where I thank God from the bottom of my heart for this opportunity he has given me. I don't want to become complacent, because that will mean I will become bored, or unpassioned. I want to live life to the fullest, like Dave Roey, and his 'Princess'. When there are challenges, I want to look at them with a smile and the knowledge that God has my back. 'I want to do anything, I want to try everything... I'll be SHIRLEY THE BRAVE! Instead of saying 'I've only got 10 months left of my exchange,' I'll say, 'Laura, you've got 10 long months to go. Isn't that marvelous!'"

On Friday I got the opportunity to go skiing, in France again. We were meant to go for the Friday, Saturday and the Sunday, but unfortunately the weather was atrocious. We got the snow at about 11:30 am, a two hour trip from Tudela. I was so surprised, I felt like I had gone to a different place, with all the lack of snow. Unfortunately, I didn't take a photo, as I thought we would be coming back on Saturday and Sunday, and hadn't been bothered to take my camera out of the car. But there was hardly any snow, and the snow that was there was pretty slushy. It wasn't the best skiing conditions, but I was at the snow! In France! I couldn't have been happier. After lunch, we went skiing again, but the weather had taken a turn for the worse. It had started to rain, meaning that we could barely see where we were going when we were skiing, and the wind picked up. The wind was so fierce, that I was scared when I was on the ski lifts. It was painful being on the ski lifts as well, and had to cover my fave with my hands because of it. The skiing was no longer even enjoyable. After a couple of runs, we were on the lifts again, and it stopped for two minutes. Two. whole. minutes. Two minutes is a lifetime when you're swinging crazily in the air, on a ski lift, hanging by the smallest piece of metal, 20 metres above the ground, covering your face because otherwise you'd be in pain. I realised that I felt unsafe, and I wasn't enjoying myself. I told María that I wasn't going to go up after we had this run, and she agreed. By the time we got to the bottom, the lifts had shut anyway.

On Saturday, I went to Zaragoza, a city of 700, 000 people, about 45 minutes away from where I live in Tudela. We went to a family lunch. It was extremely unusual for me, as one side of the family, José Antonio's side consists of 11 people in total, including me and my host family, and María Antonia's side of the family consists of my host family, her parents, and her sister. So family get togethers are small. It was so unusual to hear quietness. I am used to joking, laughing, kids chatting away, music, T.V., singstar etc... It just emphasised the difference between Spain and Australia. But I have to say, it made me miss my extended family, and the wonderful people they all are.

After lunch, we went to the centre of Zaragoza, which was absolutely stunning. Again, I forgot my camera, but I am going there again next week, so I will take some photos then, and post them. Catholicism is the main religion in Spain, and I think about 75% of Spanish people would call themselves Catholic. The Catholicism is a huge part of their culture in Spain, so it is part of their cities, their architecture, their way of life. It is interesting to see the religion placed in all aspects of the Spanish culture, and I enjoyed seeing this being played out in Zaragoza. Zaragoza is home to la Basilica del Pilar, which is the patron saint for all Spanish people around the world. This Basilica is extremely important, and insanely famous and well-known. I went inside, and was blown away. It was like any art students dream come true.

"I saw a Goya. An actual Goya! In Spain! How incredible is that! I have to admit that art stirs something in me. It is something on a completely different level. It's visual; it draws me in, evokes emotions, tells a story in a different way to words. I can't describe the way art makes me feel. I can't define art and teh way I feel connected to it. But to see Goya, in the flesh, to see the paint strokes up close, to see the history, the passion, the intense emotions brought out in the way he painted stirred something deep within me. I felt incredibly privileged that I, Laura Elaine Konemann was able to experience, just for a moment a part of art histroy, a part of history. It was incredible when I stared at it with awe, my breath had been taken away, and Ana looked at me incredulously and just shrugged her shoulders and said, "We see Goya paintings all the time. Nothing new. Nothing special." I didn't know whether to be jealous or sad for her. Jealous that she was mere inches of glass away from breathtaking masterpieces, or sad that she didn't find them to be amazing anymore."

I loved going to Zaragoza. Today is Tuesday. Tomorrow I go to Madrid for four days. Last night I was awake until 3:15 am (well, that's when I last checked the time) just thinking about all of the opportunities that God has placed before me. I cannot wait to experience them all, and see what else is in store for me this year.

"Exchange is an incredible experience where I've been able to learn in immeasurable ways. I am filled with joy when I realise that I've learnt a new word, or when I understand a part of the character of God, or I learn something new about myself. This journey, this exchange, is allowing me to go on a journey of discovery, and I'm so pleased to be on it."

Winter has returned...

2010-03-12T14:49:00.000-08:00

I don't want to apologise for not writing again last week, because my excuse is that I got caught up in life, enjoying the Spanish culture and all that Spain has to offer... I don't think that is something to be sorry about. It is my only hope, that as these weeks turn into months, I will become more and more busy becoming a little Spaniard. But nonetheless, I have so much to say that I wish I had written last week, and let you all know what's been happening in my life these past two weeks.

What a couple of weeks it has been. Not that anything remarkable, or life changing has happened, but small things that make me realise that I am in Spain, and that there will be both good times and bad. Exchange has been crazy, and so completely different than I or anyone else could have imagined it. Last week, I had credit card fraud. My money from my bank account was stolen, leaving me with $50 in the bank. Credit card fraud isn't extremely pleasant at any time, but it's especially not nice when you're on the other side of the world from your support system, without knowing what to do. It was one of those moments where I just wanted to hand everything over to Mum and Dad and let them deal with everything. I sent them an email about what to do, but had to call the bank to get everything sorted out. Mum and Dad helped lots, and I am forever thankful that they didn't really mind waking up at 2am in the morning to help me sort it out! I felt a little like I had been pushed into the deep end, without a lifesaver. I had to try and explain what had happened to my host family, which took a while cause we didn't understand each other at first. María Antonia thought that I had had $50 stolen, telling me to be careful next time... but after we communicated to each other that I only had $50 left in the bank it became much clearer. It doesn't feel like too much of a big deal writing about it now, but I remember feeling overwhelmed by everything at that moment. But it was a great learning curve for me, as I had an important issue that needed to be talked about, and gave me an opportunity to improve my Spanish. Not everything has been resolved from the fraud, as I haven't got my money back yet, but I am hoping that it'll be returned!

These past two weeks have been the weeks where I have felt like I have finally settled in. I am starting to get into the rhythm of life, and have started to feel like, and have accepted that Tudela is my home for the next year. It has been an incredibly exciting, fun, draining, tedious and wonderful experience to have things start to feel like home. I have started to have a routine. I now know that if I walk up the stairs to cross the bridge over the train station in the morning before the old beret-wearing grandfather taking his grandson (I'm assuming) to school, then I am on time. If they are infront of me, then I am running late. I know that I'll pass the courtyard near my house on the way to school at 8:37 every morning. I know that I'll pass the courtyard before school at 8:44 and I can walk slowly and relax a little. I know how long it will take me to get to la biblioteca y el conservatorio (the library and the music conservatory) and when I need to rush or relax. I know that on Monday, I'll pass that lady who walks her Siberian Husky. La camerera (The waitress) at the coffee shop I go to everyday knows exactly what I want, and I don't need to ask anymore. I have noticed the routine in other people's lives, which only emphasises to me, the fact that I now have a routine. This thought alone is invigorating, and a little crazy to comprehend. I am looking forward to when I know Tudela like the back of my hand, and I can't wait for the day when it will become my 'second home'.

Last Wednesday I got the opportunity to go to Madrid for the day!! I had to go to re-apply for my extended Visa. I was so excited, and I couldn't wait to see the other exchange students to see what they have been up to this past month. We have all Facebooked each other, but it's not the same as face-to-face contact. I wasn't sure as to how I was going to be getting to Madrid, as JYC (Juventud y Cultura, [Youth and Culture] - my Spanish exchange program) hadn't organised anything. After writing to them, they finally (In Spanish time!) replied and let me know that they were paying for my ticket, and that I'd be going by train. I was really happy, because it cut my travelling time down by 4 hours (2 extra hours there, 2 extra hours back by bus.) Winter has temporarily returned to Tudela, with really extreme winds, and it has been absolutely freezing. I will be wearing lots of layers, all rugged up, but the wind just passes straight through them, making me feel like ice. I had been told that Madrid was even colder, so I left to walk to the station with too many layers on to count. I started to walk and as I was listening to my Ipod, my fingers started to lose their feelings. Regardless of my loss of feeling, I was in total bliss. I felt so blessed to be able to be walking to the train station in such a beautiful town, looking at the white sky and feeling... at home.... when it started to snow. On the outside I was calm and poised; on the inside I was a giddy five year old, jumping up and down. I got to the train station with 15 minutes to spare, and had the choice of waiting inside for the train, or waiting outside with the snow. I chose the snow. It was so beautiful, with the wind picking up the snow and making beautiful patterns, each of the snowflakes doing their own dance. I noticed that I had started walking in circles, walking in beat to my music, bopping about, a goofy grin plastered to my face, with the Spaniards looking out at me from the heated waiting room at the crazy girl who was dancing with the snow. This is why I love exchange. This is why I love Spain. I get to experience small but amazingly big things. These small but big things will be the things that I remember when I'm 84 with no teeth telling my great-grandchildren about that time I went to Madrid.

The train ended up being half an hour late. The trip down was stunning, with the landscape changing by the minute.

From mountainous (you can't really tell from the photo, but it was!)

To desert. I know that it doesn't really look like there is much difference, but it was staggering. So beautiful.

It was great to see the other exchange students. I felt quite nervous though, I'm not sure what about... maybe about my language skills, if what I had been experiencing had been the same as the others... but as soon as I saw them, that nervousness faded away, It was so good to see them, and lo and behold... we have been experiencing the exact same things. I was really impressed by everyones Spanish and was so glad that their Spanish had come so far when they hadn't known any to begin with. Most of them (I think!) are taking Spanish for foreigners classes and I think I may look into that, cause it's obviously working immensely for them. We got the Visas done, without any pain and talked to each other at every possible moment about how everything was going... comparing daily routine, food, family, friends, experiences. It was so nice to see people who were experiencing what I have been experiencing, at the exact same time. It was extremely reassuring that the struggles I have had were the same that they were experiencing. We had lunch together, and we ordered a salad. (YES!!) All of us have been feeling quite sad about the lack of fresh vegetables and salad that Spaniards eat. It was nice to share a moment of, "Oh my goodness, if I don't eat some salad soon I might die" together, and then eat a salad and sigh at the loveliness and un-oily-ness of it. We were on our own then, and decided to have a Starbucks coffee. We all ordered our coffee, and I was astounded by how normal it felt to be ordering in Spanish. It made me realise how far my Spanish has come, and how I am confident enough to do everyday things like order coffee. Ordering coffee may not seem a big thing, but to do it with ease, and no fear of getting things wrong makes me feel on top of the world. These are the moments that make exchange. I feel like most of my accomplishments that I feel, are ones that seem so small and insignificant. I guess that there will be many small and insignificant moments that I will remember forever.

There is nothing like sharing a cup of coffee with a group of girls. And these girls, (L>R: Rachael, Me, Pascale, Vic and Bianca) are girls I know that will be very close to my heart at the end of this year. We all share a special bond and cannot wait to get to know them more and more.

I love Madrid. It is so beautiful. Although I have only been there twice, and for such a short amount of time for both of those times, I know that Madrid is one of my favourite cities in the world. I look at Madrid with a little bit of possessiveness. I look at it, and I feel myself whisper to myself, "Mine." Because, for a year, Madrid is mine. It is mine to explore, to look at, to become a part of. Because this year is all about me being in Spain, discovering Spain, becoming Spanish. I feel like everytime I have come to Madrid it has taken a little piece of my heart. The architecture is amazing. The atmosphere is inviting, like a hot cup of coffee on a cold winters day. The people's Spanish nature is infectious. Everyday I find myself falling a little more in love with Spain and it's culture.

I have found myself liking different things than when I first arrived in Spain. I like a little bit of olive oil on things now. When I first arrived, I thought it was weird, and I thought to myself, "Why did I come to a country with such weird food!" I am becoming a Spaniard by picking the bones from my fish, occassionally chewing the fish from the bone. I now use washing up gloves, when before, in Australia I despised them. In Australia I never used a bath mat, thinking they were the most stupid invention in the world, and I secretly had a thing against people that used them. Here in Spain, we use them. I have gotten so used to the bath mat, that, the other day, when the bath mat wasn't in the bathroom, I freaked out, thinking to myself, "How am I supposed to get out of the shower! I can't get out of the shower without my bath mat!" Before carefully getting my hand towel from its rack and placing it on the ground as a substitute bath mat. In Australia, I did not like licorice. In fact, I really didn't like it. I wouldn't ever eat it. But here, in Spain, I love it. I'm not sure if it's because it's differently made, or if it's because I miss my Dad so much and I know that he likes licorice. I am astounded at the things that have changed. But, I'm enjoying and embracing this type of change.

There has been some things that I worry about, particularly with change. I have been challenged immensely while I've been in Spain by the different personalities I have seen while I've been here. I feel like a lot of the time, I don't really fit in here. I mean, I do in some sort of way, but I'm different. I am yet to meet a Christian in Spain. That's been so difficult for me. People expect particular things out of people, or expect people to behave in a way that I don't really want to be like. I don't see the point in getting drunk every weekend, or doing stuff that is not good for my body or good for me emotionally. I am still new here, in Spain, and I haven't yet made a real Spanish friend. Yes, I have friends, and I chat with them, and I would call them my friend... but it's difficult to have a friend that you connect with on a deeper level when you don't share the same language. I know that a lot of exchangers struggle with this, and it is a challenge, as I want to fit in, become friends with everyone, without giving up who I am, and what I believe.

"I don't want to sacrifice myself, who I am to have people accept me. I don't wante to give up who I am, who God made me to be to fit into what people expect of me. I am different to a lot of people. (General group of people... not everyone!) I haven't met a single Christian while I've been here, and that has been difficult. There have been times when they've (This they I'm talking about is about a particular group, not about the whole of Spain or my whole class etc...) bagged out Christianity, and I've just wanted to run. But, I haven't. I've told them what I believe. They have a moment where they stare at me in embarrassment of what they've just said, and then I smile and it's all ok. And I think they respect me more because of that. I haven't shied away from who I am, and what they've said. Sure, I'm still different. I'm not Spanish right now. I am Laura, the Australian. I want to adapt and become a culture Spaniard, but I will never be the person who will give themselves up for the ways of the world. It may be a more difficult road, but I've heard, (and studied... :|) that 'the road less taken...' has '...made all the difference'"

That being said, I really like my classmates, and I don't always feel like I am completely different from them. They really do go out of their way to approach me and be friendly to me, and I'm beginning to see through my first judgments of them, and see the real person behind the clothes and hair and appearances. I just tried uploading a class photo of my class, but it didn't work. So, I shall tell you about them in text, and hopefully will get the photo up another day. Starting from the top left of the photo:

Gonzalo. I sit next to him in most of my classes, and is probably the nicest person in the world. He is always going out of his way to make me comfortable, or making sure I understand everything. His mum is a kindergarten teacher, so he brings me in books in Spanish and gets me to read them to improve my Spanish. He is really nice. He is also 18. Most of the kids in the class are 16, which I struggle with, as soon I'll be 19, and they'll still be 16, or 17. A two or three year age gap.

Carlos. I don't really know anything about him. I haven't ever talked to him, but he seems nice enough.

Luis. Luis is also 18. He is a giant, (compared to me anyway.) and is really lovely. He is always late to class, (it seems) but noone seems to mind. I think he has the goofiest smile and has a big laugh. But, also has a shy side to him.

David. Hilarious. I love him. I kept wondering why he kept on changing clothes for while, as I'd see him in some classes with one jacket on, another class with a different jacket. Turns out he has a twin brother, that's in geography with me. Oops. Loveliest guy, and is my little badminton partner. He reminds me of Scotty, with all the energy he has.

Raquel. Raquel is really nice. She is an amazing artist. In Latín I sit next to her, and just stare in awe at the talent she has.

Sabier. He cracks me up. I assume he has the humour of Arby, and is extremely stubborn. When he gets into a debate, he gets extremely fired up. VERDE ES VERDE! Filosofía brings fun memories of him and the teacher arguing.

Tamara is gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful. And nice :)

Pablo. Pablo's a ranga. And funny. And nice. I like him.

Andrea. Andrea reminds me of Jess Taylor. I think you guys would be friends. I quite like her too.

Aritz. He reminds me of Nick Davidson. Has a unique laugh, but I don't really know anything about him. He's nice too.

Rosa. Rosa is gorgeous. I don't really know much about her, but everyone really likes her, so I'm assuming she's really nice!

Javier. He is pretty much the Spanish version of Joel. But more... Joelish. It's like having 100 Joels in the room. I like him :)

Nora. Nora is Madi Weston. But Spanish. So cute, and adorable and shorter than me. She is so unbelievably nice and wonderful. And she seems to be small enough to fit in my baggage to take back home. She is really really, lovely. I really like her.

Sofia. Sofia sits infront of me, and although we haven't talked much, she's really lovely. She is going out with Gonzalo, and they've been together for a year and a bit. They're really cute together, and she has a nice smile.

Marta. Marta sits next to Sofia, and is really good friends with her and Gonzalo. She is really nice, and absolutely gorgeous. I love her hair.

Adjowa. Adjowa is the other exchange student, and I've already talked about her in previous blog entries. She's really nice, and has helped out heaps with my first few weeks of exchange and getting settled in.

Naiara. I love this girl. She is really funny, has the funniest laugh ever, and is really accomodating. She and Luis sit behind me and Gonzalo and we get to chat a bit. She's really cute :)

And that's my class. I quite like them :)

Sorry that my blog has been so disjointed, I have been writing it all weekend. I thought that I would share another little bit from my journal.

"I'm currently sitting at the table outside of the coffee shop at the tennis, and I'm quite cold as teh wind has a bite to it. It it's nice nonetheless. I love where I'm living - it's so beautiful. I feel so blessed to be here, but I do feel a little jealous of the exchangers living in Madrid. They're all so central to everyone and everything. But I know I shouldn't dwell on that. I should dwell on the face that I am close to my town and can walk everywhere, whereas they cannot. I should see that I have been able to go to Madrid, and will be able to do that again and again. I have people like Joc, who seem to call at the right time and offer such a sense of comfort when I'm feeling down. I've gone to France. I am wiht a family who genuinely care fore me. I am with a family who will allow me to experience many different things. I am able to get an exchange experience that I know will be an excellent success. There are many things that I struggle with on exchnage. There are things that I love. there are things that will frustrate me or make me feel like a failure. But I know. I know with every essence of my body, that going on exchange is the right thing me for to do. I might get frustrated beyond belief or want to give up, but like they say:
"Exchange...they never said it would be easy, just that it would be worth it."

It's now Sunday night, past my bedtime and I thought I'd leave you with a book I just read Javier. It is a book called Lotsa de Casha by Madonna. Here is the blurb. "Lotsa de Casha was by far the richest man in teh country. He had everything that money could buy, but no matter how much money Lotsa made, he wasn't happy. No matter how many grand castles, fast horses or fancy carriages he bough, he was still a gloomy old sourpuss. Find out how Lotsa not only discovered the secret to happiness, but also found a friend."

I think this has got to be my new favourite book. It was filled with different facts, which added to the story, but I think also said a lot about how to live life. I was greatly encouraged by the words, and encourage you to read the book. I'll leave you with some of the quotes.

"Fact number 1: Just because something's expensive doesn't mean it's worth it."

"Fact number 2: Unhappy people like it when everyone else is unhappy."

"Fact number 3: The secret to happiness is this: if you share what you have and ut others before you, you will find happiness."

"Fact number 4: Unhappy people always attract more unhappiness."

"Fact number 5: Smiling is contagious."

"Fact number 6: When you learn to share, oyu will not only find happiness. You will also find a friend."

"Lotsa de Casha had never worked so hard in his life. He had never seen so many people smile. He was starting to feel good about himself.... he thought about how nice everyone had been. He realised that he hadn't thought about how much money he had for over a week. He realised he was happy."

In what ways are we able to share today?

One month...

2010-03-05T14:34:00.000-08:00

This will be a very short post (as it's midnight and I just finished watching a movie with the family and I'm exhausted) to say that I made it to my one month anniversary!!

How incredible, and how crazy? I can't believe that I have been in Spain for a whole month. I feel like I'm still the 'newbie', still finding my footing in this crazy place called Spain; yet at the same time, I feel like I have been here forever. I had a bout of homesickness today. It was a bittersweet day, as I felt so excited that I had made it to the one month mark, but then realised that I still had 11 more to go. Not to say that I don't want to have them, because believe me, I can't wait for these next 11 months. I am no where near ready to come home yet. But it's been a month since I've hugged Mum, talked with Dad (face to face), cuddled Bonnie, hung out with my siblings, watched movies with Ape and Min, laughed with Tarn, had coffees with Jo and Pip, played with Ellyn, enjoyed spending time with my relatives. All the people that are most important to me are in Australia, and today, I felt incredibly sad that I wasn't there with them. I am constantly missing home, but I know it's not forever. I can acknowledge that I miss home, but not get sad about it. Today I was sad. A month is a long time without the comfort of familiarity.

I sent an email to Mum and Dad saying so, and as soon as I pressed send, I went out to Tudela with María and Ana and had the time of my life, making me extremely happy to be in Spain. I acknowledged that I missed home, but was no longer sad about it. I felt like that was a huge reason to celebrate... to know when you're homesick, but approach it in a way to combat that feeling of sadness.

Prayer is, of course, essential in this. Where would I be without prayer and God? I know I probably say this in every post, but it's so true, and such an important part in my exchange and how it plays out: God is a constant in my life. Everything changes except him. Jas (my sister-in-law) sent me an email today, and it was just what I needed. (I hope you don't mind me showing this little bit Jas!)

"It says in Hebrews 4:16 Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.
So enter his throne room and sit at his feet, let him refresh you and bring you peace, strength, comfort, hope, health, joy, forgiveness, passion, energy, restoration and most of all bask in his love for you!"

It was what I needed to read, and I felt like it was such a God moment.

Anyway I'm exhausted so I'll post again tomorrow and let you know how my week has been! Love to all x x

Rinse and Repeat.

2010-02-26T14:09:00.000-08:00

Three weeks in. Almost a month. 49 weeks left.

I feel like I have been away from home a week rather than three weeks. Everyday I am here, in Tudela, Spain, I feel a little more at home. Everyday I am able to understand just what a year away from home looks like. Everyday I fall a little more in love with Spain. Everyday I discover a new, exciting secret of Spain. I feel like I am on my own treasure hunt, (or geocaching adventure!) and everyday I get a new piece of treasure. But like a real adventure, it's not always smooth sailing, and I am often confronted with obstacles - mainly my frustration at situations and cultural differences. But, like every true hero in these stories, I brandish my sword, fight the villains and live to tell the tale.

With these exciting moments, comes the reality of normal life. I am living a normal life, but in a foreign country, and communicating in a foreign language. I am three weeks into my exchange, and have finally settled into a routine. Everyday is more or less the same, and I feel like I am starting to live a 'normal' life. My week as follows:

Everyday I wake up at 7:30, have a shower, get ready for school. At 8am I go upstairs and either set the table for breakfast, or start eating, as it's already been set. Every meal in Spain is a three course meal, so for breakfast for el primero plato I eat fruit; normally orange, kiwi and apple. (Sometimes pear as well!) For el segundo plato, I eat a bowl of porridge, with Cola Cao, a milo like chocolate powder. The Cola Cao goes into the porridge, essentially making it a warm subsitute for Coco-Pops. Today, my family bought a 25kg bag of the oats, as we eat so much porridge every morning! For el tercero plato I eat a piece of toast, covered in olive oil. I love the bread in Spain so much. I have yet to see a loaf of bread, as we only eat homemade bread, or french-baguette-type bread. Breakfast is usually from 8 until 8:15, (but for Ana, María y Javier it's until about 8:30ish) and then I unload the dishwasher and stack it again, before rushing downstairs to brush my teeth, and head out the door to walk to school at 8:30.

There is nothing like walking to school. It is something that I have always dreamed of being able to do, and now I get to do it everyday. I love walking with the morning air, music setting the pace of my walking, and watching people take their dogs for walks. (Oh Bonnie, how I miss you!) I don't think I will ever get tired of it. School starts at 9am, and I have six classes a day. I have P.E. twice a week, which I love, as it is all prac and no theory. This week we had a volleyball exam, and I went quite terribly. They have been doing volleyball for a while, and it was my second week, after two years of no P.E. ... The P.E. teacher had to stop the exam to try and teach me how to do the shots and serves and things properly. Haha! But I loved it nonetheless. I love not driving, and walking everywhere. P.E. is great, because I am able to connect with the students on a different level, as there isn't much language involved.

School is a mixture between excitement, incredible interest, being overwhelmed, and extreme boredom. I am normally excited when I understand something like exam dates, or dates in general. Understanding something a teacher is saying in Spanish is extremely rewarding, and makes all the crappy aspects of exchange worth it. For words, phrases and expressions to click is like eating chocolate after not eating it for a while. It is like taking the training wheels off a bike, like winning a grand final. It is something so small, yet something so big, and every time I understand something, I feel like I need to jump up, tell everyone, have them pat me on the back, make me a cake and say congratulations.
With this understanding comes incredible interest. I start to pay attention to the teacher more, put every ounce of concentration I can muster in trying to understand what they are saying. If there are worksheets, then I will try and translate them. Something that has me excited, and interested is history. We are currently studying the Russian Revolution in history. I have always wanted to study modern history at school, and when I had the chance to, I had to choose between it and Spanish. Spanish won out. I was so disappointed. But now, because I have studied Spanish, I am in Spain getting the opportunity to learn what I have wanted to learn. Isn't God amazing by giving us opportunities like mine? I am continually amazed by what I am learning... about myself, God and school subjects.
On the other hand, if I don't understand what the teacher is saying (most of the time) I can feel overwhelmed. I feel overwhelmed by how little I understand, by what I am not learning, and with this comes boredom.

I took some photos of what I do in class...These books have been my lifesavers. I look mainly at the grammar, and learn lots, particularly in Latín class.

The class mainly does all of their work in their textbooks. I don't have any textbooks, and I wouldn't buy them, because it would cost me about 300 euros. So, when they do their work (written work), I write letters :).

English is a great class, as I can help people with their English, and they can help me with my Spanish. They do the exercises in English, and I translate them into Spanish. This is a worksheet of English words, and my friend Gonzalo translated the words into Spanish for me.

I try and read the handouts given to me. This one is about the Russian Revolution. As you can see, there are lots of words that I don't understand, and my sheets are full of English words and phrases to help me understand what the sheet actually says. But it is an extremely rewarding experience to be able to understand quotes from Lenin and Trotsky!

There are many times when I get bored. Completely and utterly bored. So I fill pages of my notebooks with scribbles that look like this.
I draw things, and then label them in Spanish. I now know all about the insides and outsides of houses!

I love Smiggle. A) Because the pens smell lovely and B) Because I now have different coloured pens to create colourful squiggly things with.

I normally get a lift home from school with Ana's friend, and at around 3:05 I get home and have lunch. Lunch is another three course meal, starting normally with soup, or rice or potato or something like that. The second dish is normally a piece of fish, ending with fruit or yoghurt. It's really unusual having the dishes seperately, as I'd normally have it on the same plate in Australia. This has been something that's taken a while to get used to!

After lunch I normally read, watch the Olympics, and study (translate). Most nights, (6-9pm) the kids have activities, so I take them to those - music and painting, and walk around town and have a coffee. Dad, I have found my own little Cafe Cee. It's this cute little cafetería, and the coffees are only 1,20 euros. I have had some really nice (broken) chats with the lady that owns the store. She originally thought I came from France, and that Australians spoke French. But after a bit we understood each other. She sat opposite me, as no one else was in the store, smoking her cigarette, while I drank my coffee and read my book. I thought it was nice. In Spain you can smoke pretty much everywhere. I see kids every morning smoking outside school, people smoking in cafeterías, in bars... you're allowed to smoke pretty much everywhere. My clothes smell of smoke. The attitude towards smoking is completely different here in Spain then at home.

Dinner is normally between 9-10pm, and can take up to 1 hr 30 mins to eat. Eating here is a family event, and we all eat together. Dinner is the same as lunch normally. It's so frustrating. Words just don't match up to the experiences I've had in Spain. There's only so much I can say, and often I can't put what I want to say into substantial words.

Spain is great. I am having the time of my life. But I'm still living a normal life. When I talk to people from back home, everyone wants to know how it is going. Words can't describe all that I'm feeling, all that I'm experiencing... but on a very basic level, I'm living my life normally, just in a different country.

"As usual I have such a large amount of emotions running through me. I didn't know that I had the capacity to be feeling so many conflicting emotions at one time. It's a constant tug-of-war, which emotion will win? Which will be pushed into the corner waiting to come out and attack me when I least expect it? How can I sum up my experiences of exchange into one small diary, into words that cannot compare to the sights, sounds, tastes that I get to experience on a daily basis? How can I explan the warm joy I feel bubbling inside me when I explain something correctly, or understand something in Spanish? How can I show you just how similar people are to my friends and family back home? How can I describe to you, my diary, the smell - that burning, intensely sweet smell of the lolly shop, competing with the familiar delicious aroma of coffee and newly back bread in the plaza that walk past everyday? How can I describe my utter frustration when boys pull other peoples' hair, when I've told them in both Spanish and English to stop? I bought you, this diary as my substitute of my mum, dad, Min, Ape, Tarn, my friends, family, who I share my life with. I bought you so I could come home everyday and share everything with someone, something. But I come and sit and... nothing. I can't seem to express all of these emotions I'm feeling in words. There aren't enough words to describe my life right now.

Spain is like a Kandinsky painting... a blur, a myriad of colours. Different beautiful colours and shapes all mixed together to make a beautiful, wonderful, tasty picture. How can you describe such a painting well enough so that the other person can imagine each line, stroke, colour?
In that same way, how can I effectively describe my experiences in Spain?

My life is a never ending ride. It is exciting, beyond imaginable and at the same time; normal. I go to school, come home, hang out with the family - rinse and repeat. My life is no different... except that it's completely different.

Exchange is confusing.
Exhilarating.
Tiring.
Wonderous.
Amazing.
Frustrating.
A ride I will never forget."

I'm sorry if my words do not present an accurate picture of my life over here in Spain. I have so many memories already, that I never want to forget, but when I look at what I have written, I feel like nothing I write could ever compare to the real thing. The real emotions, colours, tastes, sights.

I still haven't found a church. But, then again, I haven't really looked. I feel like, as much as I am growing in my relationship with God, I'm neglecting Him just as much. I miss church. I want fellowship. I want to worship with others. I want to learn. I want to be surrounded by people who believe like I do. People who have a hope and a trust in the God that has promised us an eternal life. The God that cares for me. The God that provides for me. The God that has blessed me with this opportunity of exchange.
I am so often frustrated by things, that I refuse to see God's hand in it. If anything goes wrong, it's him I blame first. I need to look for him in everything that happens, whether it be good or bad. I need to acknowledge God for who he is - the author of my life. I tell myself to be the clay and let God be the sculptor, but I am so stubborn. I often try to mold myself into something that God hasn't desired. I can't live this life on my own. I need God. And I need to surrender my exchange, this year, my life over to him completely. It seems so easy as I write it on this page, but I so often hold back. My hope for this year is that it is a year where I will continually surrender myself over to God and see what he has in store for me. I was listening to a Hillsong song earlier this evening, "I will exalt you" and it struck a chord with me:

"I will exalt you, I will exalt you, You are my God.
My hiding place, my safe refuge, my treasure Lord, you are.
My friend and King, Anointed one, Most Holy.
Because you're with me, I will not fear."