Where do we go from here?

So, as some of you may know I love driving long distances. People talk about I-5 and how it is such a boring drive. I love it! I love that I can see hills on both sides of me and miles and miles of farm land. I honestly have a pressing desire to run wildly across one end to the other just to feel the sheer vastness of the land. I want to reach those rolling hills and feel that sense of accomplishment of having a goal and meeting it! But alas, there are fences and farmers aren't to keen on random strangers running through their crops, so I have not been able to do this.

I have some of the similar sensations here in Spain. Everytime I come rolling into town on the train from Atocha and see the hills outside of Alcalá I dearly want to jump off the train and hike through the funky trees and see the view from the top. Last Monday I met up with a friend and we decided to go explore the mountains. Finally! There is a river that runs in front of the mountains and the bridge was quite far from where we started, so we decided to take off out shoes and march across the "dam" in the river. It felt so good to feel the cold water running through my toes! And I love how rivers here smell just like rivers back home! I could almost hear the creaking door of my Aunt Alda's river side cabin in Oregon or hear the traffic running across the bridge on Howe Ave. It's nice to know some things don't change.

We didn't really have a goal in mind as we walked, only to investigate what was behind the hills. At first we saw some lovely views of many more mountains behind the intial ones. I saw one hill that had one l tree on top of it and I thought to myself, "I want to go to that tree." Now normally when I say such things either the people around me would rather stay on the trail or there are laws prohibiting you from leaving the trails (not to mention rattlensakes!) But this time there are no such laws and my friend thought that was a feasible plan. Finally I could actually go where nature was calling me!

We followed a trail for awhile and entered into a gorge. It didn't seem like it would end and I couldn't see my goal. Finally we turned aroudn one hill that seemed feasible for climbing and we hacked our way through brush and sticks to the top to discover where we were. The hill was a lot higher than we imagined but the view from the top was amazing! Not only could we Alcalá but we could also see all the way to Madrid and the Sierras behind Madrid!

Of course there were several more hills until the one with the tree. It seems that there are always more hills to get to your goal. You top one thinking, "This is it and then we can get there no problem,¨ and find that there are two more to go. What do you do? Do you stop and decided that you are getting hungry and should turn back? Or do you go on? Is it foolishness to continue or is the goal acheivable.

Quite frankly I don't give up easily. Once my mind is set on something I go to that goal, screw the gorges and sticks, I will get there! Sometimes my goals are not always good ones and I should heed the signs telling me to stay on the trail or remain on my side of the fence. How do I know which ones are right?

This is the question of the month for me. There are so many things in this life, good things, that I want. But how do I get there? Is it where God wants me to go? Is my spontaneous desire to reach that tree of Him or only my own emotions carrying me away in the moment? How can I tell? God sure didn't write in the Bible clearly, "Kristiina should continue living and working Spain." Then how can I know what is right?

As of right now I can see two ways: trying and asking. I can try to walk in various ways and see if the peace follows. I am stubborn but when God wants to shut a door no man can open it. This frustrates me, however. Or I can ask. What God has told me in the Bible is that He already knows the plans He has for me, plans to prosper me and not harm me (recently I have found that I don't believe this completely). So I can ask Him, "What's next?" Sometimes He gives me glimpses far into the future, but usually He shows me what is next now. What I should do today or this week. I want to look so far ahead to know what is happening that I forget about what He is doing today. I also get the sense that He loves it when I ask Him! There is joy in planning things with God, because you know beforehand that this is for sure what He wants!

I have a long way to go before meeting my Love face to face. I have a long way until I become who He has created me to be. I am going to fall. I am going to get scratches on my ankles. I will be tired and hungry and may even have chapped lips from the wind. But the view from the top of that hill? Worth every minute!

The four towers you see in the distance is Madrid!

March 11, 2004

"Those who dwell too much in the past are bound to lose an eye, but those who ignore it are bound to lose both eyes."

This old Russian proverb has been running through my mind quite a bit recently. Five years ago today I happened to look at the headlines on my local newspaper (a rare occasion for me, I am not proud to say), and saw a picture of a sea of faces full of agony, and read something about terrorist bombings in Spain. I have always been a fan of European history, but in this point in my life had studied and known little about this unique outcropping of Europe.

Yesterday in a cafe the television replayed scenes of this tragedy. My heart jumped as I saw the wreckage of familiar looking Renfe train cut in half by an explosion. I use trains like that weekly. They run right by my house all day long. A neighbor told me that on that the terrorists placed the bombs on a train that ran out of the train station by my house. I can step out on my front stoop and see the station! Also unknown to me until recently was that fortunately the bombers were slightly off in their calculations and the bombs exploded just before entering the Atocha trains tation in Madrid, where ALL RenfeMadrid lines run, saving hundreds of lives. --->

Studying Spanish history is what brought me to this country in the first place. I had always wanted to visit Europe, but when listing all the countries I wanted to see, Spain never made the list, even though I studied Spanish and loved it. When I decided to make Spanish my minor in University and saw "Culture and History of Spain" as an option for a class, I chose it only because I liked the professor and Europe in general. I didn't realize that it would change my life. Walking through its history in my secular class the spiritual climate of this country and the reasons why became more and more clear. I wanted to know more! I wanted to come and meet these people and know them!

I currently live in a fiercely proud country. Their history can be easily traced back to Roman times, some of the streets here are named after the fouding Roman tribe. Moors conquered the land and then were pushed back again, claiming this land for Europeans once and for all. It was, after all, Queen Isabel who comissioned Columbus to set off for the New World, changin history forever. What other country sent so many missionaries and conquistadors to South America, irrevocably changing their history? This is the land where Spanish has its origin, and identity found in this can be heard on the lips of every Spaniard as they refuse to pronouce any word in the manner of another language (like "iPhone" is pronounced "EE-Pohnay"). This country recently survived 50 years of a harsh dictatorship and overthrew it simply by its new leader returning power to the people!

Yet I can also see how Spaniards may easily feel separate from their European counterparts. Only a small strip of land connects them, and that is marked by the daunting Pyrennean Mountains. There is even a phrase stating "Europe ends at the Pyrennese" signifying that Spain is not part of Europe. They have fastidiously stuck to learning only Spanish until recently, realizing the great need to learn English in this political climate. However their English is far behind many other European countries. I do realize that I am only postulating, as I have not yet been to every other European country or met represenatives from every country, but I do think that my former ignorance of Spain does stem from some fact that I am trying to sort out in my head. There is something about this land, its history, its people, that sets it apart for other european countries and attitudes. I want to learn even more about the history of its people, for in learning this history maybe I can uncover more of who they are today...

OK, rambling done.

Check, Please!

Ok, think about this, Americans. How do you ask for the check (if your waiter doesn't offer it to you)? "Can we have the check please?" "Could you please bring me the check?" Sounds pretty normal to me (maybe I am overly polite...I don't know. However, a rather blunt waiter gave me quite the grammar lesson. There is no "Puedo tener la cuenta, por favor?" No no. "La cuenta." That's all, really. He mentioned something else, but he was speaking very fast in some South American accent I am not accustomed to but it was clear that I don't need to to ask permission to have the check.

Doesn't that sound weird? In reality that is what we are doing. We are asking permission to pay the establishment that fed us! Are they really not going to give it to us? I recently had a conversation class with a lovely Spanish lady who has given me great insights into Spanish culture. She asked me why we tip in the States, for here in Spain it is rare to tip, and if you do only 5% is expected. I tried explaining about how TIPS really means "To Insure Preferred Service" and how waiters are paid less so much of their income depends on the quality of their service... honestly trying to explain it sounds strange to even me! Why do we pay them less so people have to dish out more money for food? Looking at your culture from another point of view is quite the experience, I must say.

Well, I am officially half-way through my time here in España, and a montón of things have happened! I have been saved from speeding cars (stupid pigeons!), a Spanish mullet (thank you Kathie!), and Valentine's Day Blues (gotta love single gals who aren't bitter about being single!) There were also some firsts: attending a professional "fútbol" match (¡REAL MADRID!), playing translator for American tourists, and eating cow's heart (so tender and delicious!). Also, spring is quickly coming upon us, and I am pleased to see that mustard flowers run jsut as rampant here as they do in Northern California! Little things like this make me very happy indeed.

Also, a major holiday happened this past week: Carnaval! (similar to Mardi Gras). People here get dressed up and go to parties the two weeks prior to this infamous Tuesday. They also like to burn a sardine...I haven't found someone yet who could tell me why. Several days before the big day students in my school also dressed up in rather strange combinations, such as a silly hat and a facial mole, or crazy hair and kisses stamped onto their faces. Quite entertaining! On Carnaval each class in our school decided on a theme, and in the afternoon paraded around the playground in front of their peers, showing off their lovely costumes. Parents gathered around the fence outside like faithful groupies to cheer on their tesoros (schools here are gated and parents could not come in) and a "dance" party ensued afterwards. It's little wonder the children had a hard time calming down the rest of the week.

The weirdest part of this month is realizing, I mean really realizing, that I have not stepped foot in my home land for 5 months. To think that I really got on a plane by myself and flew 7,000 miles away really blows my mind. I am starting to feel torn between two countries, like my heart is planted in two places at the same time. I love California so so much! And honestly as winter blahs hit me I dearly wanted to fly home and lie in my comfy spring mattress bed and listen to the sounds of my father watching a football game and my mother busy cooking scrumptious goodies in the kitchen. Yet I know when I arrive home I will miss Spain so much. After my grandpa passed away so many people called me or cooked for me or offered their homes and company for me and I realized just how much realtionships with people here have grown. How I am not alone. So the adventures continue....

mmmm....and then you SCARF!

Dear Grandpa...

I am feeling so far away from everyone right now, feeling a bit restless. I know that there is nothing that I can do, but I can't just do nothing. From a logical perspective, writing you this letter is ridiculous. You aren't going to read it. But sometimes what is true defies all earthly logic.

I wonder what your reaction was when you reached heaven. I know Jesus was ready to accept you, and it's impossible to not be in awe in His presence. There is no better place for you to be, Grandpa. My whole childhood I ached for you to know love such as this, and now you can bask in it! More than I can!

I know that God is healing your heart as I write this, but again I feel I must DO something. I walked several miles to this quiet spot, thinking of what I might say to you now. As I brushed aside branches from my path I thought of the hike you took me on when I was a little girl and how you sometimes took several minutes to beat out seemingly impenetrable meshes of sticks. We didn't talk much, but I have found that when I'm in nature there is little that needs to be said. I don't know how far we went or if I complained about the distance (walking long lengths hasn't bothered me in a long time), but this is one memory of you that I cherish.

While I am so glad that you are at peace, I can't help but feel weird that you are gone. I struggled with my grief, Grandpa. I felt selfish for feeling sad that you are gone, when your time here was no longer fruitful, and as I said before there is no better place to be than in the presence of God. But a wise friend reminded me that death was not a part of God's original plan. Jesus wept when His friend passed. I don't cry out in bitterness or anger. It's because I am now separated from someone I love. Someone who meant so much to me in my life. How could I not hurt at such separation?

But here's the great part, Grandpa. You left behind treasures: us. You helped bring my mom into this world, who in turn brought my brother and me here. We are going to miss you so much, but we will move on in this life, accomplishing what God has called us to until we can see you again. We can rejoice in the life you brought forth while we wourn your passing.

I love you, Grandpa. I wouldn´t wish you back, for that truly would be selfish. Instead I will rest my soul in the same Arms that hold you now and cling to the peace that such an action brings.

Your loving granddaughter, Kristiina.

"Jesus wept." - John 11:35

Huh....who'd a thunk?

Musikverein, Vienna, Austria

I have been badly neglecting this poor blog. The past two months have been quite packed with the holidays, travelling, adjusting back into work, and some major time Spanish practice! Thanks to some key friends at church, I am slowly becoming more accustomed to listening to others speak spanish and responding accordingly!

I was able to go to Austria over the break, which was such a blessed break! I wish that I could type here all the amazing adventures I had here, but I am afraid that I would lose my audience (if you really wanna know, you're gonna have to ask, aren't you?) So here is what I am going to cryptically place here: Cadbury eggs in December, pizza, bus terminal, Hogwarts train, eerie castle, and an Alp (there's one for the bucket list!).

Now for a random story about my life here. Every Tuesday I have 2 tutoring sessions, with an hour break in between each class. It is not worth it for me to go home in between classes so I spent a couple months finding a good place to go to read a book and relax for a bit. I eventually found a bar (yes, I did say a bar) that was small yet the owner seemed friendly enough. The owner reminds me of old-time store owners that you may see in a black and white movie. He alsways wears the same slacks, collared shirt and maroon vest and keeps his bar in immacualte order. I asked for a tea and a small tapa to eat. Sometimes you get tapas for free, but often you have to ask. When he told me the price (1,30€) I was a bit short of change so I left him a little more than usual. It is not customary to tip here in Spain, and if you do a small amount is acceptable (this is what I have been told and I pray that it is still true). The next time I came in he smiled at me, gave me a tapa without asking and served me my food at my usual table (I have not seen him do this for anyone else...) Now I come in and he even remembers my tea, even after a 3 week break for vacations and smiles when I come in (and of course I still give him a small tip each time).

I also had the chance to watch the inauguration of our new president at said bar last week. You know how sometimes on the news a foreign person will be speaking in their native tongue and they get dubbed over so we can understand them? When I was younger and watched the news of foreign events, I always thought that it would be cool to understand what foreigners were saying. Well, I got to know what it felt like as I tried to understand all the English under the dubed over Spanish. Diane Feinstein's voice was nearly impossible, I barely caught what Rick Warren was saying, and Obama came through decently clear (though by this point I was exhausted with the effort). Knowing what the foreigners were saying wasn't as cool as I thought it would be!

Another weird language realization happened while watching "Seven Pounds" here in Spain (which, incidentally only came out a week and a half ago...so behind you guys!) There is a scene where Will Smith is speaking with a Mexican (?) lady in Spanish and they hop back and forth between English and Spanish (and Will Smith has a pretty good accent, too!) I was pleased to find that I could understand everything they were saying. And hearing them jump back and forth was like hearing my brain aloud! So cool!

OK, I am trying to keep these a bit shorter for y'all. Hopefully I can get on a bit more often and share more random stories! Did I mention the Schlag in Austria? No? Another time maybe! :)