Follow your heart

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sj0Ha7Xkw7Y

go where you want.
be who you are.

i will live my life in spanish.
i will have my own garden.
my food will be homemade.
i will bike 100 miles every weekend.
i will play the piano.
i will smile when you look at me.
you will look at me every day
as if each day were better than the last.

and you love your job.
because your job is to live.

love is the life.

it doesn't exist
if you don't look for what you need.

Lo permisa pasar

I just received a rejection to my couchsurf request in Amsterdam. The process goes that you view your "host's" profile and in your written request to stay with them, you explain why you would like to meet this person. I hate this part. I have to make a hasty judgement based on one's self-proclaimed written word--will I get along with this person or not, how do I know they will not shave my eyebrow off in my sleep, and hopefully they don't have any bizarre habits (p.s. bizarre and awkward= two words that don't exist in Spanish and make my life extremely difficult to express). I received yet another rejection letter from Amsterdam, and had posed within they "Why I Want to Meet You" part, why did he say: "I like couchsurfing because I like to make connections with different people"...How is it possible to have a connection with everyone? This was his response:

"It's a good question about connecting with people. This is the answer I've found myself. When you play a guitar string, you hear the sound, it is composed of a base frequency, and many overtones. The base frequency allows you to recognize the sounds, the overtones give it the unique timbre of a guitar. If you play the same note on a piano, the base frequency will be the same. The overtones give it the unique timbre of a piano. When we meet people, often we pay attention only to the overtones: what makes us unique. But, deep down, I think all people resonate at the same base frequency."

Being different and being beautiful is something we embrace. But, sometimes, we forget, that it's okay to just be human.

Adventuring

Querida Abuelita,

Was it like this when you were young? Did you feel invincible? Older than you really were? Ignorant and naiive or aware and conscious? I don't know how I feel about my age or my "youth." Everyone insists on referring to my life here as an adventure... You could say so. But, isn't life in itself an adventure.. Or more of a journey.. Thus far, my journey began with twenty-two years of preparation. During my intensive prep courses of everyday life, the more experiences I had with the abundance of people i have met, I was able to slightly narrow the margin of likes, dislikes, and the unknowns. The best gifts are always decorated in the most unexpected packages...this is what I have learned. When I worked at the hotel, I would meet truckloads of people a day. I was a part of a large corporation funnel system, which causes more people to be overworked in a fixed, toxic environment. The promotions don't make you richer as a human. in fact, you more or less lose your will to participate in society...unless, you consider work a pillar of society. Today, for society to function, your participation in the economic sector is invaluable. But, how this process has changed from a means of survival (to pay for food, clothing, and housing), into a means of identification, I may never understand.

I've always valued my independence. But, it's not always easy. I went to Granada this weekend alone to sleep on someone's couch for three days. I know you are worried...that's why this revelation is admitted now...after the fact. The person I stayed with is fantastic. He experienced a different prep course than I-- having parents that choose to be international with their children leaves an everlasting impression on many of these types of people... At 24, he speaks 3 languages fluently, has lived in Liverpool for a year and France for two years. He has a position in an international company, with which comes the opportunity to meet more people like himself--an empathetic support group of curious seekers. I met two more of his colleagues, one from Poland and one from the united states, both of whom moved here 5 years ago without knowing a lick of Spanish. Qué cojones. Now, they are fluent, have secure positions in a stable enterprise, romantic interests with people of different backgrounds, and spend their weekends going out with each other until 4am...at the earliest. The conversation covers all social arenas--politics, humor, film, languages, beauty...an aberico of the essence of humanity. I really never thought my times here could evolve and flourish so rapidly in such an impressionable way. I explained to the group, after about 3 glasses of wine and 3 gin and tonics (don't worry, over a span of 5 hours) that I am walking on a cloud. Every. Single. Day. Feeling helpless in a language at times and making mistakes is hard for someone who is hypercritical of herself. But, this is why I'm here. I left my comfort zone. I went to a new city...alone... Only with the positive energy and hope that my host would be just as hospitable and friendly as he was. But, I must admit, he was more. The people that are close to me from home know who they are. But, there has always been a separation of friends and family for me. Until now. This individual has a family of friends... They function as a unit, can spend a whole day together, on the weekend, after 5 days at the daily grind together as well, to remind each other of old memories, while constantly making new ones. This person introduced me to his family...without knowing me. He trusted.

Grandma, you have always taught me this--trust in the good in people. I just couldn't see it in the states. Instead, all I saw was the outline of a human wrapped in money and stamped with Louis Vuitton, orange county, Mercedes Benz, or strings of zeroes. But, all that had to occur for this to be so emphatic...so special. I got to write him a note in his travel book for the people he hosts, but I don't feel like that will ever be enough. I hope I get to repay the favor some day and show him half as good of a time as he provided for me...the unconscious willingness to share good with someone.

My journey is never going to change my relationship with you or how much I long for one of your warm hugs, but, this adventure is going to allow me to be a better version of myself. And if this is only the beginning, I must keep smiling and repaying the favor to all of those who have been so welcoming to me.

I love you.

let it happen

I have heard from various people that I have a small cult of followers (please...if you haven't yet, start referring to yourself as such). How great. Thank you for supporting me and the rantics (ranting antics) of this blog. I wish I had more things to say that weren't so personal... But, I'm a little bit too much Spanish to be living in the states anyway... I mean I like ham, cheese, and wine to the extent that if I never had the option to see a McDonald's, Pick up Stix, or Domino's again...I think I would survive...

I don't just admire the blunt commentary that comprises daily life...I participate in it. I am not shy about my poor Spanish skills... I say "repite," about 3 times every 3 sentences... They have accents here and whoever tells you that they are fluent after only two months is a liar...I am sure of it. Everyone wants to know if you have a boyfriend...because they have all known each other since they were 5 years-old and married the first person they started dating when they were 15...They don't hate the United States, but don't necessarily care to know more. First, because we are all over the TV. I think the people here knew more about the candidates than I...No, they didn't. They just knew they wanted Obama to win...because he is a democrat. And secondly, because, more likely than not, they will lead the rest of their lives here...Content and happy with the route their life has taken and will continue to follow. There are absolutely no young people...None. Zero. It is more like a large retirement home that takes place outside on the streets. Some of the older citizens choose to wear their dentures, and others...well, they elect otherwise. I've heard that gazpacho actually goes down easier without your teeth. There is one type of beer and two types of wine...There is no menu...Don't order without other Spaniards...Otherwise, you will be charged way more than is required. There is a "crisis" here..So, you are always reminded at least once or twice that "there is a crisis" during conversation...Normally to describe why one thing is different now than in the past. Food is so unbelievably cheap...I think I would stay here just to never have to spend $30 for one dinner of an appetizer, a drink, and a sandwich again. What a rip-off. Plus, the food here actually tastes so much better. Whatever you vegetarians think when you come here...like your life is about to end...or that all these Spaniards are going to vegetarian-hell for not respecting your way of life...you are crazy. Omg, the fish! The MEAT--pig. It's all about the pig. The cheeks, the hands, the stomach, the liver, the tail...They are thrifty here...I mean, com'on. It's a crisis. But guidi knows...guidi knows she is receiving the best food ever. A language tutorial that is incomparable to any other. But, I want to stress that living in a pueblo is not Madrid..not Barcelona... This is not frou-frou, city-life with bars on every corner (that's a lie too..there are bars, but not cafés or fancy shmancy institutions), discotecas, and whatever else exists in Madrid (I still have yet to visit...don't worry...I will...when I get my Spanish boyfriend to drive me there...so, I'm going to take this moment to propose my indirect plea to please channel some prayers my way to get me that Spanish boyfriend and donate to the cause...because all the Spaniards think it's so weird that I am so tall...or, that I don't have a boyfriend...they could be related....) But, so I have heard, the streets are covered in gold and all your children that studied abroad there I'm sure had fabulous experiences. And many people here have respect for the cities in the north. But, the life of Spain lives in the south. It lives in the campo...because, it is where traditional life continues. So what you don't have teeth? I've known you since I was born...and you didn't have teeth then either. No judgement passed. You are not one in a billion here. You are someone everyone knows, or has seen at least once a week during their walk to the grocery store. It is small. To get to the train, you take a bus that is the size of the vans that take your kids to away games in middle school. The train only has 5 available times to take you to the train or pick you up from it. Yes, they are very spread out, and, no, it is not convenient. The train also has 6 inconvenient times to take you an hour away to the nearest city. Oh, by the way, between 1:30-5:30, you can't do anything because everything is closed. So, you might as well go somewhere after 5:30 (IN THE AFTERNOON..night doesn't start until 8pm...because you don't eat dinner until 11pm). These are observations...not complaints. I deal with it...Either I'm really awake and get my ass up to the bus stop...Or I don't. It's that simple. 

Spanish life. Aceitunas, vino, ham, and cheese. Siesta. Work to live...never, live to work. 

rain, rain. go away.

The art of practicing simplicity.

Blossom in the rain.

Fear inhibits our ability to be artists.
To paint our thoughts with our words.
An interpretation expressed through deliberately spontaneous action.

Reaffirmed by comfortable compassion.

The absolution of the storm outside
with an epicenter originating within.

Demasiado corazón

Paella, rain, babies, Spanish.

I was listening to this today: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/wnycheresthething/~3/8cc6_wLxGdE/.
And sometimes I read this: www.goop.com.

Yesterday, I learned how to make paella. Ate a family lunch. Took the longest siesta of my life. Skyped with my mom. Then, went to the hospital to see if Jose Luis' friend, whose wife given birth to their first child, wanted to go for a walk to get some fresh air. Marco had been born just two days prior. They welcomed me into their room to sit and talk, amidst the fetus-sized (seriously, so small) Marco- beautiful and delicate. With unapparent shame or an impalpable sentiment of an encroachment of privacy, I settled into good company with new acquaintances during the post-game recovery of one of the most important days of their lives...

Paella, rain, babies, SPAIN.

In the podcast, Andrew McCarthy--actor, director, travel writer--discusses what he has learned from traveling and his evolution of vulnerability as an actor into a solo traveller. Even he emphasizes the power of the question to open the doors into the hearts of humanity.

To each his own.
I like to eat, talk, and do. Practicing Spanish is a full-time job. My body is confused-- it rained for 5 days, then, is uncontrollably sunny for 2. I am always in a new place for undetermined periods of time, eating different food, wending through different terrains. But, what I already knew, that has been reaffirmed, to travel is to live in a place as a local. And that one trip, that one moment, when you are completely vulnerable develops into a blossoming new friendship that crosses all boundaries of who you used to be and who you are going to become.

Ask questions
Never say "no."
Always smile...and say "thank you," though it's very rarely received.

Because...

If only for today, seize it while it lasts.

Getting lost

Dear Abuelita,

Sorry its been so long. You know what it's like... Going from place to place, and sometimes, all you want to do is to sit down and relax...but, then, you become restless with that too. Right now I'm finishing up my trip in Cádiz. It has been such a reinvigorating respite from pueblo life. Pueblo life is quiet and mapped. Here, I have gotten lost in a forest, trekked through another forest in the rain, and taken a leisurely, nostalgic stroll along the sand in a blanket of humidity that reminded me of what it must be like at home. I don't think about home often... But, I do think about you and how much you would love every nook and cranny of every experience... I pay a bit more attention than you to detail-- the way someone smiles, their most common phrases, etc.. But, here, I don't have to. Via an osmotic transfer of mentality, I have absorbed this universal acceptance of just being and allowing others to just be. It's so much easier to label and categorize everything so we can compartmentalize our feelings, and, therefore, our relationships. But, why? Because people think life is already hard enough? Because we are scared? Or because we are too comfortable in known territory that maybe a vacation suffices as a measure to escape our fears, even if just for a week...?

The multitude of reasons is a shelled seed at the the root of a fertile tree of problems we call "life." The more excuses we give, the stronger our roots cling to the soil, less likely to uproot and more dependent upon the worry and fear as fertilizer to keep it "healthy and strong."

I don't think stripping this seed of its protective layer is easy, or even humanly possible. Because we all have a shell, but, what's beautiful in life is when you meet people that live outside their shell, and outside themselves.

I have been received into this family in Cádiz by a mutual connection from the United States. The last three days have been some of my favorites because for the first time I feel like I belong here. Mostly because of the nature...Jose Luis leads an orienteering league in Cadiz. Orienteering is when you have a map and run through the forest to stop at 11 different checkpoints to report your time. Whoever returns to base first, wins. Well, it was my first time playing and it was just a practice route...but, when you put two girls together in a forest, who have both never played this game before..what happens? They get lost... But, not just lost... Terribly misrouted...to the point where Ingrid and I were peeing our pants when we got to a pueblo outside the forest because we had walked way too far in the opposite direction... 4.5 hours lost in the forest on my first day in Cadiz. Jose Luis didn't know me that well yet and felt absolutely dreadful, like he allowed me to get lost by placing me with Ingrid. Amidst my laughter, I explained how much fun I had... I made a new friend, spoke broken Spanish for 4 hours (Hell, I was hot, tired, and I didn't know any forest words...), and got to be in one of the most beautiful forests I've ever seen.. Without paths made by people, without, even, other people... A mountain from where you could see the ocean and then mindlessly get lost, and find cows grazing, and the boxes where they cultivate honey..untouched, resting in the middle of the forest...but, what was even more chuly (cool) is that the girl that I was lost with was just as captivated as I was.

I knew we had to get back because we had a responsibility to the 30 other people waiting for us, but, I wasn't ever worried I wouldn't get back. It's about the journey. I'm here. And to live in fear and settle in to my burrow in the pueblo is easier than offer friendship and explore new terrain with new people. It's about being fearless - the first step is hard, but, the end result is liberating because you create your destiny.

My dad always taught me, "It never hurts to ask. The worst someone can do is say no."