Nan and Gramps.

It was almost 3pm, almost time to go home, and I was daydreaming about how I would be with my grandparents this time in a week, when I got a text from my Gramps saying, "We are in Barcelona. Text back ASAP." I snapped out of my dreams about what we'd be doing in a week, and instead stared at the message, wondering what it meant. Had they changed their minds and come a week early? Were they staying in Barcelona a week before they came to Tudela? Or, did I get the dates mixed up? Not knowing which it was, as soon as the bell rang, I ran out of class, texted them back, and they quickly replied saying they were just picking up the car and would be in Tudela in about 3 or 4 hours. I got my answer: I had mixed up the dates.

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

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.

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..

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

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.

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.

"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.