More Braver Than Me (Or Something Like That)

"So where are you going for Semana Santa?" Juan Javier asked.
"Well, first my mom flies into Sevilla, and we'll spend a few days there. After that, we're going to Rome, Paris, and London...and then back here to Antilla!"
"All during Semana Santa?" he asked.
"Yes, yes! Well, it will be during Semana Santa and a few days after since I don't have to work on Mondays or Tuesdays."
"But still...!" he exlaimed. His eyes were huge in wonder. "You are more....valiant? Yes, valiant?"
"Valiant?" I asked. That couldn't be the right adjective he was looking for.
"Crazy?" I said while laughing. To a Spaniard, our travel plans might seem a bit overwhelming -- lots of traveling, lots of places....very American-esque. :)
"Valiant, yes!" He shouted!" Leaning in he said "You Americans are like that. You are more braver than me!"

Call it brave, call it crazy -- but it's what Mom and I are doing for Semana Santa, and I am so unbelievably excited! Mom arrives THIS Friday around 1pm, and Oti has graciously allowed me to take the day off so that I can meet Mom at the airport. :) As mentioned, we will be traveling all around to lots of places and seeing so many things -- I am so incredibly excited about this opportunity to see more of the world, but more than anything, I am thrilled to be spending time with my amazing mother. :) Please pray safe travel, fun memories, and lots of joy for us -- and I certainly am praying all of the same for you!

Can't wait to blog all about it in a few weeks! Until then....in the words of Juan Javier, be more braver! :)

Un besito,
Brittany

A (Spanish) Birthday Story

Walking home from the bank, my cell rings.
"Hey honey! I got your e-mail saying that you got your birthday package, and I just wanted to let you know that you might want to open the package before you leave for the weekend because there is..."
"Something pershiable in it? Oh my goodness -- you didn't send me a cake, did you?" I wouldn't put it past my mom. But how in the world would a person possibly ship a birthday cake across the Atlantic?
"Well, that would be really challenging to do, wouldn't it?"
"Whew! Good. That would have been crazy, Mama."
"Well...I didn't say I didn't do it...I just said it might be challenging...."

Within minutes I'm back at my apartment, tearing away the cardboard strip of the UPS box, pulling out a plastic tupperware container with what appeared to be a somewhat-shifted-during-flight-but-still-ever-delicious chocolate cake. Popping the lid off, the sweet scent of Mama's homemade double layered chocolate cake with chocolate frosting fills the room. Ahhh....CAKE! :) There's something red -- perhaps some other frosting? -- smeared across the top of the cake along with an adorable small smiley face in the bottom right corner. Amazing -- somehow that smiley face remained completely in-tact through the international travel, jostling, and rough handling.

Tearing up with unbelievable joy and thanks, I call Mom back.
"I wrote 'Happy Birthday' on it!" she exclaims.
So that's what all of the other red frosting was...
Several other small, neatly wrapped gifts rest inside the box, and Mom and I agree that we'll "celebrate" my birthday on Monday when we skype and I can open the gifts then. :)




After opening the incredibly thoughtful package/cake, I head to Cordoba with Ashley and Joanna. A three hour bus ride later, we safely arrive to the Terrace Backpackers Inn -- a reasonably priced, yet still clean and nice, hostel in a central location of the city. "And here are your keys..." the receptionist says. Walking up the wooden stairs, we glance at our room. There is a sign on the door, deeming our place:

La casa de l'abuela

Translation: Grandma's House

Perfect for a 20-something birthday celebration. :)

The agenda for Saturday in Cordoba consists of visiting the Mezquita (the mecca monument to visit in Cordoba -- it's a huge and beautifully constructed mosque/cathedral with countless arches and elaborate white-washed domes). Lonely Planet also suggests a few "squares" to see in Cordoba, so we figure we can leisurely wander through those as well.

Saturday morning quickly comes. Closing the hostel front door behind us, we are met with wet sidewalks and raindrops. Popping open our umbrellas, we are determined to make the best of the day -- rain or no rain.



Cordoba is a quintessential European town -- truly, when you think of Europe, you probably think of a place like Cordoba. Narrow, windy cobble-stone streets criss cross to form a windy maze of a city. Window gardens with green and pink and purple draw your eyes up as your walk through the streets while the smell of coffee from countless sidewalk cafes draws you in. Beautiful is almost an understatement. Walking along, I think to myself: It's days like today, and places like this place, that make me fall more and more in love with Spain.



Wandering our way into the Mezquita, we picked up the English pamphlets of information. Joanna begins reading aloud to me and Ashley -- Ashley stays for a few moments and then wanders to take some pictures. Archway after archway after archway fill the room in the Mezquita. The arches are pretty, but not the most awe-inspiring thing I've seen in Europe. We walk further and find the cathedral part of the Mezquita. Looking up, it seems as though I cannot physically crane my head up high enough or tilt my neck back far enough to completely view the massive white, detailed dome above me. Wow.





We admire the beauty, but we also want to have some fun...so we take some "different" pictures. :) When you live in Europe, you see a lot of cathedrals -- and they are all certainly amazing and beautiful in their own way, but you come to this point where you want -- you NEED -- to start becoming creative with your photo poses. And so, the creativity we embraced....




Fast forward to the night -- we put on our shiny tops and heels and are ready for a night on the town! Rumor has it that Cordoba is home to gorgeous men -- with ice blue eyes, dark hair, and olive skin. I mean, I don't know about you, but I think I could handle that in a guy. :)



Leaving the hostel, we find a bar with fun music just around the corner. Enjoying a drink, we stay and dance for a little while, but the crowd is a bit older than us...time to head to the centro! Getting in the elevator, two guys come out of the elevator -- "Come with us! We're boyfriends!" they say. "Ahh! Let's go party with them, y'all!" I say to Ashley and Joanna. They both look at each other and then look and me and firmly say "NO. We're leaving." Lesson learned from this night and the night I went out in Malaga: Don't trust guys easily here. And if guys tell you they are gay, they probably aren't. Praise God for my common-sense and street-smart friends. :)

Next up: The Underground, a nightclub advertised at our hostel. Here we find a huge space for dancing, lots of young people, American music (yeah!) and (some) cute guys. We spend the night sipping on drinks and dancing with new Spanish friends. :)

Sunday we head back to Huelva, and Monday I make it home to Antilla and chat with my wonderful madre that night. :) Needless to say, it was an amazing weekend and birthday....there is still so much more to tell. Look out for a second birthday-related entry soon.

But for now....peace, love, Cordoba. :) And thank you for all of your love, support, and for helping to make my birthday abroad special! :)



Be blessed,
Your now 23-year old American rubia :)

"God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart." --Ecclesiastes 5:20 ESV

Aboriginal

Morgan explains that a certain Australian aboriginal tribe celebrates birthdays for a very different reason than that of our typical Western-based culture. Birthdays, to them, are not always celebrated. Birthdays are not an annual cake-eating, ice-cream-tasting, present-exchanging fiesta. They are, however, celebrated if a person has experienced growth and change and improvement over the past year of her life. Because in their culture, through their eyes, that is something worth celebrating.

So this year, on the verge of 23 years, I had to ask myself: Would I be celebrated in their culture? Would I want to celebrate myself?

And I can honestly and happily and thankfully answer: Yes.

Throughout the past year I have learned a great deal. I have completed an undergraduate degree in psychology. I have moved across the sea. I have attempted to learn Spanish. I have failed at Spanish - and I have succeed. I have hurt through the endings of some relationships in my life, and I have healed an unbelievable amount. I have gained strength, self-awareness, and optimism. My appreciation for the mundane at home has increased a thousand-fold. A home with central heating during December, the sweet taste of homemade chocolate cake from Mama, the hugs from my precious little boys that I babysit -- all of these things I miss, and I now, in turn, have a greater love and appreciation for them.

Yet, of course, I have fallen short. I have said too little. I have also said too much. I have worried. I have been too hard on myself -- and on others. I have made mistakes. But it is through these mistakes that we are human, and it is through our faults and imperfections that we grow.

I think I know myself. I think I have grown. But I also think I have a lot to learn. And a lot to work on. I shouldn't compare myself to others so much. I should not worry. I should learn to be content where I am, with what I have, and with who I am with. But although birthdays are for evaluation and honesty, I think they are for something more than that. They are for celebration. And I can joyfully and peacefully say that I am happy to celebrate the passing of my 22nd year of life and the beginning of what I hope and trust to be an even more amazing 23rd one. :)

"They believe that the purpose for the passage of time is to allow a person to become better, wiser, to express more and more of one's beingness. So if you are a better person this year than last, and only you know that for certain, then you call for the party." -- Mutant Message Down Under, Marlo Morgan



A special thank you to Elizabeth for sharing this amazing book with me -- I love you! :)

African Action

So in my last post I discussed the more thoughtful, student-like, globally-aware aspects of my trip to Africa. And although those are extremely important parts of traveling, and perhaps they are truly what give substance to seeing new places, there is also the important element of adventure and events that accompany travel. So this blog, part two of Africa, is devoted to the action of my African adventure.




Meeting the 100 or so 20-something year old participants along with our tour guides from DiscoverSevilla, our trip began as we boarded the buses. Stretch one of the trip: Sevilla to the south of Spain (a point so close to Africa that you can literally see Africa's land from the shore!). A few hours later, we were climbing off the buses and onto our first ferry ride to Africa!



Rocking, swaying, and attempting to not feel sea-sick, we arrived to the port an hour and a half later. But to our surprise, we could not dock. All the places in the port are occupied, they told us, so we have to wait, in the ferry, in the water, until we can dock.

Ok. This won't take too long, right?

I think you can see where this one is going.

About another hour and a half later, we finally stumbled off the ferry onto African land. Passports stamped and in hand, we were excited to be in another country and on a whole new continent! As one of our travel guides said, "You're in Africa now, guys...how sweet is that?"

Our choice to travel to Morocco with a travel organization (DiscoverSevilla - DS for short) was affirmed as a wise decision as soon as we placed foot on land. Stepping off of the boat into the darkness, we were greeted with intense stares from men, dim lighting, and signs entirely in Arabic. Culture shock? Big time.

After exchanging money from Euros to Dirhams (1 Euro = approximately 11 Dirham), we hopped onto the second bus of the night to travel two more hours to our hotel in Tetouan. At about 2:00 am we finally arrived at the Hotel Kabila; eyes half-open, stomachs starving, we crawled into the dining room to be served our first African dinner (breakfast? I'm not really sure what you call a meal at 2:00 am). The food was delicious and flavorful, and we were all so happy to safely be there. I was beyond excited at about 3:30am when we were able to finally rest our heads on the sweet hotel pillows.... :)

The next day was a full one - full of travel, new sights, and new people (three of my absolute favorite things). :) All 100 or so of the DiscoverSevilla travelers boarded the buses and began our drive through the Rif Mountains on our way to Chefchaouen. As described in my previous blog, Morocco is absolutely, breathing-takingly gorgeous. The grass is that kind of lush-unreal kind of green that you picture in far-away lands, and the mountains just curve and stretch in this beautiful kind of way. Small villages composed of rectangular-shaped creme-colored homes rest on the sides of the mountains, and every three miles or so there seem to be one of two things found: a set of three or more red Moroccan flags waving in the warm breeze or a huge billboard with a portrait of the King Muhummad VI. Where am I? The social psychologist in me kept wondering how this intensive form of homage and adoration to the Moroccan government affected the people's mentalities.







Soon enough we reached the inviting pueblo of Chefchaouen. Chefchaouen is distinct in that all of the buildings are blue and white washed - it makes for quite a unique place to explore.

The DS group was divided into smaller sections and we were taken on tours by Moroccan natives. Our tour guide was this lively older man who could probably walk faster than me through the windy and rough streets of Chef. The sad part of the tour is that our group was so large and there was so much noise in the tiny streets that it was difficult to actually hear and learn from our tour guide. But I did learn a few things....

(1.) People in Chefchaouen do not have gas in their homes. And I complain about no heating in Spain.

(2.) Some women wash their clothes by hand in the fresh spring there - not in a washer. Again, I complain about not having a dryer because the rain here makes drying my clothes on the clothesline so difficult. Needless to say, I felt a bit foolish and humbled after this trip.

(3.) Shopping is a completely different experience in Morocco. As soon as you touch that silky red scarf or blue beaded necklace, a store clerk is standing beside you, asking you repeatedly how much you want for it - whether you were actually thinking of buying it or not is irrelevant. It's all about the bargaining, baby.

(4.) I really like Moroccan food! It is absolutely delicious! I ate couscous for the first time in Africa...and not only did I eat it for the first time, but I ate it three times during the course of two days (one time by choice, and two times there was a set menu -- but each time it tasted different!).



(5.) Moroccan beer - Casablanca - is delicious!



(6.) Moroccan entertaiment, which we had the pleasure of enjoying Saturday evening during our hotel dinner, is extremely loud, lively, and, reduntantely put, entertaiming. :) Loud trumpet-like horns, elaborate blue and red shiny costumes, and a man who can balance a tray of lit candles on his head gave us a dinner full of intrigue. :)






On Sunday we woke up early, enjoyed another delicious Moroccan breakfast of pancake-like bread with honey and hot coffee and then headed back onto the bus. We rode for about an hour until we arrived at the medina of Tetouan. This city is quite different from Chefchaouen. Our tour guide was a different man from the previous day, but again, he was extremely lively and entertaining. Walking through the streets, I was in shock. Everything seemed so under-developed. Lack of pavement, mud in the streets, live chickens in the market, loose cats and kittens roaming around -- where am I? I asked again. "I want to show you all of Morocco -- the good, the bad, the ugly" our guide explained. It was still a beautiful place, but there is definitely a different way of life there, and my appreciation for my home cultures in Spain and the United States grew exponentially during this visit.


After an authentic Moroccan lunch (Couscous? You bet.), we headed to the coast for a quick visit before boarding our ferry for the return home. This beach was literally one of THE MOST gorgeous beaches I have ever seen in my life. The sun shining, beating down warmth on our faces, the wind whipping our hair and scarves, it was unreal. Huge, bright yellow-orange steep sand dunes and below the sparkling blue sea. Am I really in Africa? Is this really my life right now?


DS also provided us with the opportunity to ride camels -- which of course I wanted to do! I was a little disappointed by the length of the camel ride (we paid 2 Euros and it lasted for about 1 minute), but it was still a cool experience to have! And riding on the camel made me feel so tall -- which, being the towering 5 feet 1 inch tall that I am, I found to be a new and exciting feeling! :)

Post beach picture-taking and camel-rides, we headed to the boat. "Get your luggage! Get your passport and customs forms! Hurry!" For some reason they were really rushing us onto this boat. I thought we were doing fine on time?

A few hurried lines later, we all arrived on the very crowded ferry. After sitting and relaxing for about an hour, Julie wandered to go talk to some people. She came back with news:

"So, it turns out that this isn't the ferry we were supposed to be on. The ferry we were supposed to be on was cancelled, and this ferry is going to a couple of different ports in Spain. And our buses aren't on this ferry."

"Wait," I responded..."So we're going to be in Spain but without our buses - without a way to get back to Sevilla?"

"Yep." she said.

This should be interesting. :)



Thankfully, we met some awesome people who were sitting close to us who had a deck of cards handy. We found two other super lively and hilarious guys to play a two-person team card game with us: Mississippi. I don't know if you have ever played Mississippi or not before, but it is a really enjoyable game. So enjoyable that we played it for about an hour on the ferry and then for about 2 more hours once in the ferry station. I am just so thankful that we met these people to spend time with - the wait had the potential to be miserable, but instead it was as fun as waiting in a ferry station for 5 hours can be! :) Our buses finally arrived at 4am, and we finally made it back to Sevilla at 6:30 in the morning. Julie and I had booked a hostel for the night, but at that point we didn't even think it would be worth going to since we would have to check out in a couple of hours. Instead, we took taxis to our respective bus/train stations and boarded early transportation home.


Three African pueblos, several meals of couscous, one Moroccan bartarting experience, 6 new hilarious people, and 31 hours of no sleep later, I arrived back in Antilla, a safe, sleepy, and thankful traveler. :) My gratitude continues to grow with each trip I take, and I pray that the blessings and new experiences that God graciously gives me may in some way be a blessing to you too. Thank you for reading, and please know that I love you and am carrying you with me constantly!


With, what I pray, will grow into a more open mind and grateful heart each day,
Brittany :)

My Conflict with Culture

How can two lands that are so geographically close to one another, merely separated by a small slice of water, house two completely different cultures? I am still amazed by this fact.

Africa was nothing that I anticipated it to be, and I find this to be a comforting, challenging, and rewarding thing to accept. Morocco, at least from my perception, is vastly different from Spain and it is also vastly unique from the stereotypes of traditional African lands. There were no extremely dark-skinned people, no elephants, no jungles. Morocco is its own creation. A mixture of different histories and culture.


The dominant language is Arabic, and 98% of the Moroccan population practices Islam. Older men in long beige colored cloaks and small tan-skinned children with curious dark eyes fill the streets. Women were not found in the streets as easily, and the ones that were out were covered with the traditional Islamic hijab (loose clothing and head covering). It's interesting - the contrast between Morocco's landscape and their own development. The cities we visited are nestled in some of the most beautiful lands I have ever seen - lush green grass sprinkled with yellow flowers, mountains that stretched into the gray and white clouds, and then you turn to your left and see the sparkling light blue sea with miles of bright sand. Unbelievable. A true expression of God and his creation - beautiful, pure, and amazing.



Yet the infrastruce and actual development of the towns we visited was a contrast to the landscape. Rectungular shaped buildings rested within the hills of the Rif Mountains. The white paint on the outside is chipping and washed away. Walking, I feel the rough cobblestone digging into my feet with each step. Within the medina (Arabic for "city center") the roads consist of mud, orange dirt, and some cobblestone - pavement is nonexistent. The paths of the roads twist and turn and weave in and out of each other in one huge, seemingly unending maze. There are no street signs, no street names, and no street lighting. I can hardly imagine nagivating the streets during the day, much less at night. Stands of fresh fruit and meat line the twist and turns. Walking, I wonder "Where are the pharmacies? What is the health care like here? Education? Where are the doctors' offices? Where do people buy commonplace things - like toothpaste and deoderant?" I was in culture shock from both of my home cultures - the Untied States and Spain.



Fresh fish (heads and eyes fully attached), fresh chickens (yes, heads still attached), fresh pig (entire pigs hanging by the huffs) are found in the local markets. Where am I? I kept wondering. Is it really 2010?



It seems as though everything is made by hand in Morocco. Bread is not bought - you make the dough and take it to the bread baker who warms it and lets it rise. Clothes are not washed in a washing machine - the women take them down to the fresh spring and rinse and scrub them by hand. Rugs are not made by fancy sowing machines and in factories - they are sown for hours by hand. Things are not carried by trucks - instead old women and men walk past me, hunched over with large squares of spices and hay pressing down on their backs.

And I wonder, what do they think of us - Americans? Do they view us as selfish, greedy, thoughtless consumers? Or do they envy our culture of comfort and ease? Or do they view their own way of life as the best method of living? Do they think we should change our ways of life to comply with their culture?

This trip has sparked a new questioning of culture for me. Why do we live the way we do? I'm reading a book that Mom gave to me before coming to Spain -- The Monkey and the Fish by author Dave Gibbons. Although I'm not far along in the book, it's already been thought-provoking. Gibbons explores an idea called "third culture" and challenges each member of the church to embrace a third culture mentality. Third culture, according to Gibbons, is this idea of living in a fleixible, adaptable, changable mindset. It's about loving those who are different from us. It's about seeing things from others perspectives. It's about embracing culture and community. Last night I read about the following:

"Brooks then refers to a study by professor of psychology Richard Besbitt in which Americans and Asians were shown individual pictures of a chicken, a cow, and hay. When they were asked which of the pictures go together, Americans typically picked the two animals. Asians typically picked the cow and the hay, since cows eat hay. Americans tend to see categories, whereas Asians are more likely to see relationships. That's why doing business in Asia is about more than signing a contract; it's about relationships of trust." (p.50)


Now you may be thinking -- Brittany went to Africa; why is she writing about Asian culture? But this study got me thinking about my trip to Africa. It got me thinking about culture and relationships. I say that Africa is underdeveloped - and perhaps in many ways they are. But think of it - due to them not having gas or washing machines in their homes, they are forced to depend on one another more. You must take your dough to the bread-maker. You must leave your home to wash your clothes. And you need help with doing these things -- you cannot do it all alone. And us? In the US? Goodness knows we can function independently and in quite an isolated manner. We can buy (or make) our own bread, we can wash and dry on our own clothes, we can order practially everything on-line and have it delivered to us -- without even having to step a foot of our home. And although this technology and convience is amazing and life-changing, and yes, certainly it is something that I enjoy and am thankful for, I think it causes us to lose another important part of culture -- community and relationships. So perhaps Morocco is not as advanced in terms of technology, perhaps they are "developing" in many ways, but maybe there is something we can learn from them. We can learn about community, we can learn about dependence, we can learn about appreciation and gratitude. Maybe they are developed too, just differently.

Look out for another blog about Africa -- the trip was so full and thought-provoking that I couldn't fit everything into one post! :) As always, thank you for reading and for being a part of my life here. I hope that this post challenges you to think about your own culture and values. I love you and am praying safety, health, blessings, and joy for you!


Besos from your American traveler... :)

Esto es CARNVAL!

Carnaval. How do you even try to explain it?

It's like Halloween on steorids. Or better yet, let's pretend that Mardi Gras and Halloween were people. They fall madly in love, get married, and decide to have a baby. Now this baby, as all babies do of their biological parents, inherits many of the traits of Mardi Gras and Halloween. This little one likes to dress in crazy costumes (like Daddy Halloween), it likes to host excessive groups of people in the streets for insane night-long partying and singing and drinking (like Mama Mardi Gras), and this baby seems to basically be an excuse for unbelievable party-making (Daddy and Mama traits, alike). And this baby speaks Spanish (very bright for his age). They call him Carnaval.


Our trip to Cadiz to celebrate Carnaval began with confusion - we had a group of five Americans (including myself) taking the three hour bus ride to Cadiz: Amanda, Katelyn, Joanna (dressed as three 80s prom queens), Ashley (a pretty pirate), and me (a hippie -- which, to my surprise was greatly recognized here in Spain!). Since we all signed up for the Cadiz Carnaval trip together, and told WeLoveSpain that we were traveling together, we assumed that the organization would put all of us on the same bus.

We were wrong.

Somehow after spending a solid thirty minutes waiting outside of the buses being told that they would work it out, and we still ended up divided. Ashley went on bus one with some of her Spanish friends and the rest of us went on bus two.

Climbing onto the bus, we weren't surprised to find that there were no grouped seats together. Joanna sat in an aisle seat near the middle of the bus. And I, I sat in the only other open seat. Walking towards the very very back of the bus, I was greeted by a large group of blonde Polish boys.

This ought to be interesting.

Squished between a 7 foot tall, 300 pound Polish giant and a smaller and seemingly kind boy, Magic, I rode for three hours. Thankfully Magic kept me company. Sounds of Spanish, Polish, and English filled my ears on the bus ride. Texts between Joanna and I kept us both sane and connected during the trip. Arriving in Cadiz, we pledged to be sure to be some of the first ones back on the bus to ensure seats together.

Brightly colored lights spelling out Carnaval greeted us along the walls of Cadiz. Pulling up into the plaza, Kamal (the group leader) reminded us to be back on the bus at 5:30am. Stepping onto the cobblestone pavement, the madness began.


Crowded is a vast understatement of how it felt at Carnaval. It wasn't so bad in the plazas but once we made our way deep into the city, near the cathedral, it was almost unbearable. Shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg, body on body, breath on breath. Stepping on the cobble stone you find broken glass, trashed cups with reminents of vodka and rum. Speaking wasn't how we communicated with each other -- it was more of a shouting match. Near the cathedral there was a huge stage with live performers. The stage hosted several performances throughout the night, performances which are supposedly really witty and clever, if you can understand the Spanish well enough. :) We stayed for a few minutes, attempting to understand the Spanairds dancing on the stage dressed as something similar to vikings, but then the uncomfortableness of the situation trimumphed. We headed back to the plaza for some breathing room.

The plaza was much more fun. Although there were groups of people, it was more spaced out. Grown men dressed as babies, women donned in Lady Gaga clothing, and Pharohs surrounded us. Walking through the streets, we found a stand that you would think to find at an actual Carnaval - it was stuffed full of ridliciously sugary treats and sweets. Joanna and I decided that 2 euros would well be worth the investment in a 2 foot long red and white striped stick of sugar - and it certainly was. :)

Chomping on the sugar, we found our way back towards the entrance to Cadiz. It was starting to get cold. Cadiz is located right on the coast of Spain, so the ocean breeze and the lack of sun at 3am made for a frigid combination. Thankfully, we found a tent-like discoteca. The cover charge was 10 euros, which is expensive here in Spain, but we decided that it would be well worth it for not only keeping warm but also for having some fun.

"Toma! Gratis!" a woman shouted as we walked towards the discoteca. She was holding a bright red fedora-like hat in an outstretched arm. "Take it! Free!" she said. Sure? Why not? They will add to our costumes, we thought.



Sugar stick consumed, red hats donned, we were ready to dance! Inside the tent we found a bar and a surprisingly large crowd of people. Priests, punk rockers, and chefs surrounded us, although we ended up spending the night with a group of zombies and one man dressed as Michael Jackson (RIP, MJ). Needless to say, we had a good time. :) We spent the night dancing away, sipping drinks, posing for pictures, and getting insanely excited about American songs like the YMCA (as seen in the picture). Before I knew it, Joanna was glancing at her watch and telling me that it was 5am -- time to head to the bus.

The bus was deadly silent the entire ride home - everyone slept. I still wonder if everyone made it back to the bus or if anyone got stuck in Cadiz...? I certainly hope (and think) that everyone did make it back to Huelva.


So. Moral of the story. Carnaval is an experience, for sure. Is it one that I would want to participate in again? Of course! Would I want to travel all the way to Cadiz to celebrate Carnaval? I'm not so sure. We had a good time, met some interesting people, and saw Carnaval at its fullest. And that is one of the main joys of life, right? Seeing and experiencing things at their fullest? I certainly think it is. :)

Thank you for reading and sharing in my journies! I'm praying great blessings, peace, and lots and lots of joy for you. :) I love you!

And remember, as a rubia Spanish hippie would say...
Peace, love, espana. :)

Spring Adventures

Spring is coming. And as we all know, spring is not only a time for the renewal of the roses and daisies and trees, but it also seems to be the renewal of an active life for most of us. The spring always seems to bring adventure and busyness. And this fact about spring seems to transfer into my Spanish life as well: it looks like the next few months are going to be full of adventure and travel -- which I am unbelievably excited about! I thought I would share with you a schedule for some of my upcoming adventures.

Upcoming Excursions:

-February 13th-14th: Carnaval Celebration in Cadiz, Espana and Valentine's Day!




Carnaval: To the best of my understanding, Carnaval (Carnival in English) is the third largest party in the world, and Cadiz hosts the heart of this celebration in Spain. Spaniards have told me that people from all across Spain make the journey to the south to celebrate in Cadiz. Carnaval is a HUGE celebration and a two week long festival. Singing, dancing, night-long partying in the streets, and costume-donning are just some of the traits that characterize this party. My girlfriends and I will be taking a bus with other Huelva college students and CIEE teachers to Cadiz (which I think is approximately a two hour long ride away).

Valentine's Day: We all know what this is. But I have to say, I am really excited about Valentine's Day this year. As Oti explains it in class, Valentine's Day is not just for couples - it is for all of us to celebrate. It is a time to tell your family, your friends, your teachers - everyone - how much you care for them. And with this in mind, I feel so thankful for all of the love and amazing people that God has put in my life....and I'm very excited to be able to celebrate the love that I have. :)


-February 26th-28th: Three day trip to northern Morocco (Africa) with Discover Sevilla!




YES! Julie and I are going to AFRICA! I am so incredibly excited about this trip! We are going with the travel group Discover Sevilla - we paid a flat rate that includes our hotel, meals, guided tours (in English!), and bus and ferry rides to the north of Morocco. More details to come about this soon. :) (But I will tell you one thing: I think I might get to ride a camel while I'm there!)

-March 6-8th: My 23rd birthday celebration in Cordoba, Espana with some of my best girls!




23 + Cordoba = Amazing: March 7th I will be celebrating my 23rd birthday here in lovely Espana! Some of my wonderful friends will be able to celebrate with me, and we decided this would be a good time to make the much-desired pilgrimage to Cordoba: land of the hot men (according to every Spanish woman in Andalucia). Cordoba supposedly has THE MOST guapo (handsome) men in all of Spain. It is also supposed to be a beautiful place to visit. What better combination could a girl ask for to celebrate her birthday? Amazing friends, a beautiful city, and gorgeous men? I'm game. :)


-March 12-14th: A continuation birthday celebration with Alicia! (Location and events remain TBA)




My sweet sweet friend Alicia will not be able to join in on the Cordoba birthday trip (she already had another trip booked), so we have planned to celebrate my birthday this weekend! We are still uncertain about what/where we will be for this weekend. We may be having a relaxing beach weekend here in Antilla (weather willing) or I may go to the hilly pueblo of Bullollus to visit Alicia and have a night out. Either way, we are planning on cooking some of her delicious, spicy gucamola, zucchini bread, and other treats and enjoying time together. :)


-March 26th: European adventure with my Madre begins!!!!




Wonderful Mama is making the long trip here to visit for Semana Santa (it's like our spring break here in Spain)! I CANNOT WAIT to see her and travel through Europe together! More details about that trip to come soon. :)

I'm so excited about and thankful for all of the upcoming adventures! I cannot wait to share my new experiences and lessons learned with you. :) Please keep these travels in your prayers - and not just for safety, but for these to be the experiences that God desires for them to be for us. Thank you so very much for reading and being a part of my time abroad! I love you and think of you constantly! :)