on letting go of a good thing

I am home.
And to my surprise, I'm actually alright. I was expecting some kind of, I don't know, moment of depression, of sleeping past 2pm everyday to shorten thinking about Spain all the day, of trying to piece together the dichotomy of me in Spain and me here. But, none of that's happened. The latest I sleep everyday is up to 10:30, and I spent most of my days, not really doing any thinking, intense thinking that is. I've come to the point where I'm able to just let go. There's no point into holding something so tightly (even if it's a good thing) because you miss out on the better thing right in front of you. Letting go is something I had to train myself to do. In the past, I would struggle so hard, it would take me months, years sometimes. I've realized that it wasn't even that I loved the thing I was holding onto, I just had experienced so much loss that to lose something again was unbearable. It seemed like good things came by so rarely and when they did, I had to cling to it. But now, I've reconciled those losses. I think I've properly mourned for them and let go. I've gotten closure. So the fact that I can let go of these 4 months, not easily, but with acceptance, is evidence of how far I've come.

 But I do think that I haven't fully processed my 4 months yet. I think I'm holding off on it because I'm afraid of what's to come. That's why I've been holding off on writing. Writing is how I process, how I digest things, and I'm afraid that I'm going to come up with some realization that I don't yet want to realize. But all that goes down the drain as evidenced by me writing this.

So, fine, since I'm writing anyway.

En mis ultimos dias, encontré que quiero estudiar mas español. No podia imaginar ir a la escuela sin una clase en español. Asi que, decidí a estudiar un minor en linguistics and the study of the spanish language. Estoy emocionada para esto, pero vamos a ver si voy a gustarme la clase de linguistics. Mis razones por esto, hmm, creo que todavia no he terminado aprendiendo, no quiero terminar aprendiendo. Porque despues la graduacion, tendré que ir a grad school, y despues encontrar un trabajo. No es que no estoy lista por el mundo real, es que en grad school, no tienes la opcion para estudiar otras cosas aparte de tu especialidad. Soy una persona que le gusta aprender todo, por interes, no por obligacion. Es parte de mi caracter, y tengo que aprovechar este tiempo para aprender. Aunque es posible que tengo que quedarme en la escuela por un quarter mas, pero porque la prisa a graduarme? Me siento mal para la gente que piensa que no se tiene el tiempo o opcion para estudiar cosas por diversion. Pero despues estudiando en Espana, encontré que tengo toda mi vida a trabajar. No necesito empezar ahora.

You can look that up on google translate, although it's not completely accurate either.

So the last puente (our 5 days off), I went back to Portugal. Last time I went to Lisbon, and the getting there to say the least was not fun (crazy bus driver, some woman running up crying and yelling because she left her purse with her money and passport at the last stop-the bus driver wouldn't turn back, a lady behind us throwing up-because of the crazy driving, and these 3 guys from cali who wouldn't stop talking to us all night). I wanted to let Portugal redeem itself because we got off to a bad start.

This time, I went to Oporto. I wanted to go somewhere non-touristy and didn't have a million things to see. Funny thing was that when we were riding the train, Amrita, my friend, was like "this is ugly". Immediately, a flood a regret washed over me. Good thing the train ride was long because when we got there, it was the most beautiful port I've ever seen. It was a lazy, quiet day and everyone was taking advantage of the sun by hanging their clothes outside.

After Oporto, I head onto Barcelona. I'd been learning about Gaudi in my art history class and I wanted to wait after we learned about him to see Barcelona. I had always wanted to be able to travel solo. I don't know, I just always admired people who were able to just up and leave. A huge part of my fear, though, was that I'm about the most directionally challenged person you'll ever meet. But what I've learned throughout my trip is that I never really take the opportunity to try. I found that yes, though my sense of direction is horrible, my memory is amazing. All I need is a little faith that I would get there ok. And guess what? It was the easiest thing ever. Although I did get on a train not knowing where or when to get off. I, proudly admit, have become the master of the metros at Barcelona. 

Parque Güell

Gingerbread houses in Park Guell

Casa Batllo

some people say this house is a masquerade ball with masks as balconies and a party hat on top, others say the balconies are skulls and the top are the scales of the killer dragon

Casa Mila

some say the house represents the ocean with its wave-like structure and the balconies are seaweed, 

But this is the way I see it:

La Sagrada Familia

I remember seeing this in the cover of my old high school spanish textbooks!

Casa Vicens- one of Gaudi's first houses. It's still privately owned and not many tourists know about it. In class, we watched a BBC film about it and I knew I just had to go see it.

I've learned so much by traveling solo: that I'm more capable than I think I am. Now I refuse to give into self-fulfilling prophecies. Your whole life, people tell you you're one way, for me its, you're awful at direction, you can't cook, then you use those things, or I did at least, almost as excuses to not even try, then you fulfill the self-fulfilling prophecy. 

Also, just because you are alone, doesn't mean you have to be lonely. Ever since the beginning, I knew I wanted to travel alone. I always imagined somewhere peaceful, quiet, maybe a bit of nature here and there, and I end up in Barcelona, one of the biggest cities in Spain. Even more, it was the puente so everyone in Spain was traveling AND there was a Lady Gaga (ew) concert there that weekend. 

But this is what I've come to learn. People feel lonely when they are surrounded by strangers. They can be in a room full of people, yet feel so alone. But while I was there, I didn't feel an once of loneliness. It was quiet, but I quite enjoyed my own company. And that's when it hit me, how much I've healed. Before I used to feel constant loneliness, even when surrounded by people who loved me. Though there was love around me, I didn't feel it because I wasn't receptive to it. Imagine how lonely that is. Love, friendship, anything, means absolutely nothing if you don't feel it, if you don't receive it. Now, I can be  alone with a bunch of strangers, yet not feel alone. How did that happen? Well, this whole year, I've been in a process of healing. It's truly God who has mended my heart. And it's moments like these when I'm encouraged because I see the progress I've made.

Accion de Gracias!

Also known in Amerrca as THANKSGIVING!

I absolutely had the best Thanksgiving EVER. Everyone from our program went to a nice big dinner (YES with good ol american turkey, stuffing, pie, and LOTS of wine, cavo--spanish champagne, and tinto). Later, we all went to the discoteca with our profesors! Only in Spain will you be able to go out to the discotecas with your profesors, take shots with them, and have them stay out longer than you--I'm talking about til 6 in the morn. Yes, I'm a gramma compared to my profs. I had the best time everrrrrrr.

Pictures and descriptions to come, promise!!

ok so this is the funnest game ever. do the BRRR BRR thing, while taking a picture. aja

At the discoteca with my profs. Elli, my art history teacher is the cutest. She's so cool and sweet, and I get super excited when I go to a museum and see something we've learned about in class. And Antonio, my history of spain prof. He's probably the most passionate teacher I've ever had. It's amazing how he remembers ever single detail, date, sidenote, movie, book, painting, quirks, and random dumb things without any notes. He really made me history come alive for me. (Oh, and all the girls in the program have crushes on him). Ahaha at the discotech, I finally mustered up the courage to tell him he was my favorite profesor. 

(funny story side note: so I was taking my history midterm and I was answering a question about the Spanish Inquisition. Antonio said beforehand that our grammatical mistakes don't matter, the important thing is the actual content. So, to say the least, I was not paying attention to grammar at all. When I got my test back (with a proud 9.1 out of 10, yea I'm bragging about my history grade), I realized that for the inquisition question, I wanted to say the Catholic kings used torture (tortura) but instead, I wrote, Los Reyes Catholicos usaron tortuga (The Catholic kinds used TORTOISE!). AHA, just imagine his face while correcting all these tests.---ahah reminds me, sorry I keep trailing off, of a conversation I was having with my Spanish parents about scary movies. I was describing psycho and wanted to say, 'all of a sudden, someone appears with a knife'. BUT INSTEAD, i said, 'all of a sudden, someone appears WITH A SPOON'. Ahaha, I'll bet I've confused plenty of people during my stay here. It's no wonder people are always giving me confused looks)

AH I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVE ONLY 3 WEEKS LEFT!! Next week is my last real week of school, then I'm off to Porto and Barcelona, than Scotland at the end. I'm really going to miss it here. Especially my spanish family, and I know this is nerdy, but my classes and profesors :(

shutterfly site updated!

Slanty Town

canals almost on every street!

crazy how many bikes there were!

So amsterdam has inspired me to write a children's book titled "Slanty Town" (watch out for it in 10 years ahaha). Why slanty town? Well, because amsterdam is built on a canal, the foundation isn't really flat, so in order for the buildings to stay up, they are all slightly angled (or so I think, I very well might have just made that up). But not only are the buildings completely skewed, so are the perceptions of amsterdam. When people hear amsterdam, they automatically think weed and hookers, and maybe Anne Frank, but it's so much more than that. It's being in this quaint little town with an intricate system of canals, a place where there are bikes of all shapes and sizes (portable fold-up ones, ones with carriages for kids, ones with carriages for dogs, sidecars, and ones with seats on the handles for your kids--I'm sorry, but in what world is this safe?), a place filled with cute bagel shops, nice people, tall people (for a change), Indian food!, Van Gogh, and so much more)

We're not supposed to take pictures in the museum, but.. technically, this is outside

I'll make my voice heard. I'll go out into the world and work for mankind!- Anne Frank

I must say though, the Anne Frank museum was probably my favorite. I don't know why, but I imagined her house to be different from the others, to stand out because, wow, it's Anne Frank's house. But no, if it weren't for the line outside, I would have never guessed it was her house. Anyways, from the moment I went in to the moment I left, I was just overwhelmed with a mezcla of sorrow, awe, hope. It was crazy. You learn so much about her in history, about the Holocaust. But to actually be in the house of someone who's suffered so much, to be able to see physically their living conditions, to walk the steps they've walked, and to look out the windows they've looked out from, is just an indescribable experience. It was almost as if her spirit was really there. 

This is the church that Anne write about in her diary. How the church bells are evidence to her of the outside world. To be able to witness this, to hear the very exact bells she heard, wow. 

This is how they construct their roads

The market!

caramel wafer thingies. yum yum in my tum tum

buttons and things

Almost died while bike riding, seriously

Rode our bikes to this beautiful park

playing on the playground

soo crooked!

giant shoee!

red light district, for some reason, there were a bunch of swans there. I'd like to think it's some sort of symbolism.

the house where Rembrant lived and died in

example of bike with kiddie carriage

so funny because in amsterdam, instead of Santa Claus, they have a Cintra claus (sp?) with Black Pete. So I don't know what exactly cintra claus does, but black pete's the one giving out the gifts. He's cintra claus's helper, in reality, he was his slave. But Dutch parents don't tell their kids that, they just say he's black because of all the chimney chutes he's been down. AHA

Anyways, that's just a little bit of what I did in amsterdam. It usually takes me a week or more to process every single trip. We also went to the Van Gogh museum and the red light district. More of amsterdam to come!

By the way, in a moment of desperation, I stole these pictures from the internet. I'm so behind on uploading pictures just because my computer has absolutely no more space AH!