Women may travel

"Where are you going this weekend, Courtney?" They ask me.

"Barcelona!!!" I reply, utmost eagerly, as the words barely make it through the teeth of my wide grin.

"Oh, it's beautiful! Who are you going with?"

"Welp, with myself..."

*Noted silence*

We can vote. We can own property. We can drive. We can do all of this alone. Surely we can travel, right?

To the grand majority of whom I share my decision to travel alone with, it is almost as if I'm disrespecting God and defying all natural laws simultaneously. I'm a bird, and birds fly, therefore I will fly.

"Watch out! There are clouds in the sky! And sometimes, ya know, it rains. Or, oh my god, what if it snows?! Be careful! Especially if it snows. And when you're flying, make sure you don't hit any other birds. And watch out for trees. And never, I mean never, fly into an already formed "V" formation. Don't provoke trouble, you hen."

I didn't just fall off the turnip truck. I have done this before. I prefer to travel alone. I prefer to know a city on my own terms. I prefer to make new relationships if the situation allows it.

This is living. I leave for my Barcelona excursion in 1 hour. I will return for 1.5 days, then, Wednesday night, I head off on the night bus to Portugal for 5 days. I'm back for 4, then head off to Rome. Then, I'm back for a weekend, before heading off to London and Seville for ten days with my best friend. (See, I travel with people. You just need to apply.)

Why do I do it?
Many reasons. Mostly because it is the most exhilarating thing I've found in my life. My travel virginity was taken less than a year ago. I'm still on my "first-time" high. I'm riding the euphoric wave and doing it as many times I can while my position allows it (aka living in Europe). I secretly love getting off the airplane, not knowing where I am, nor what language I'm supposed to be reading/understanding. Then, I gotta figure out how to get there (wherever it may be that I'm going-- a couch or a hostel). Bus or metro in rain or at night, in the cold, with an oversized bag and an oversized coat.

"Be sure those birds don't steal your eggs from your nest!" They repeatedly tell me.

So, I always move rather slowly and have my head on a swivel in either direction. Then, I step outside, and I see new things, new people, feel new energy, hear new sounds. All senses are heightened and stimulated for the next 2 to 3 days. Madre mia. I'm so glad I left the virgin world behind.

Time to walk, eat, see, breathe. I've found my preferred way to learn about the world. Before there was all this greed and power over money and people, there were just people. There was just land. It's raw, it's natural. To move and eat and see how other people "live in their natural habitat" I live so much in the present when I travel. I take it all in. I never want to forget the moment. There isn't confinement to a desk, computer, car, city, alter cellular world. I come and go as I please. I have freedom.

"But, other birds may want to bite you or follow you to your nest."

Yeah, true. But, I wouldn't be me if I didn't walk around yelling all the time. I wouldn't be me if I didn't talk in weird voices. I wouldn't be me if I wasn't adventurous. So, I do it.

Forewarned: proceed with caution.

I've been advised and now readminister the provision: when with me, just proceed. Caution is logic and instinct. Do what makes you feel happy and leave the rest behind.

With love.

Courtney style

Giving back

I need to give back...which actually means I need to stop reading food blogs...
because then I just think about how hungry I am... which, most often, I'm not... I'm just really good at convincing myself.

Lately, I've been enjoying the easy, slow life.

Every day, I wake up between the hours of 7:30 and 8:30.

This is a lie.

I wake up on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday at these hours.

Then, I decide...

make tea, fresh squeeze orange juice, and a bowl of cereal

OR

walk the 100 yards to the hotel next to my house, eat a large piece of tostada, a steaming, creamy cup of frothy coffee and milk, with fresh squeezed glass of orange juice...all for 1,90 euros...

Friday...this is guaranteed. The rest of the week, I attempt to eat in.

Then, off to class. A bop in and through my classes for three hours. The time flies. Today, one of my first graders, during the middle of class, decided to leave his seat, come up to the front of class while I was writing on the board, and taps me on the leg. I turn around to see little Benedicto, whose head reaches my waist, "No puedo ver," with a surly look on his face. The teacher's laughing in the background at his commentary, to which I respond, "Lo siento, hombrito."

The little boy couldn't see. So, the obvious option was to leave his seat to tell me he couldn't see during the lesson.

DUH.

Days like these, I swim in the happiness, joy, and lightness of my day. It's easy to be positive among smiling, joyous faces that scream your name as you pass by... as I think, "I'm still that cool to them?! Go me!" The teachers understand me and I understand them... There are mutual joking seshes in Spanish... All of this comes and goes. The days repeat.

I walk the 5 minutes to my house and decide what to make...I made tortilla española on Monday. A process that consists of frying sliced potatoes in olive oil for 30 minutes. Add it to scrambled egg batter and cook. It's delish.

I have ground turkey, gnocchi, and zucchini waiting for me for tomorrow with a homemade tomato sauce. I eat for an hour.

Yes, I eat like an 80 year old woman. But, an 80 year old woman only eats pudding...and maybe a banana... in an hour. Due to gravity or something...The older you get, your body shrinks, and all the weight goes to your head...you get tired and eating gets harder because you have to hold up your head and open your mouth at the same time...That's why they sleep so much.

So, then I take a nap...echo una siesta...

Isn't that what you do?

Then, ughh, I have to get up. I turn off the brassero. This contraption that the Spanish invented AFTER they decided to stop doing cool shit once they had discovered the New World. Spain's history in American history book consists of Columbus and Franco... Next to be added this brassero thingamajig.

So, you sit down. There's a long tablecloth encompassing the length of the circular table (or rectangular...) Underneath, there's a heater with another silver cone contraption so you can't put your feet in. There are two settings: hot and hotter. This thing is God's only gift to Andalusia. They have extremely long, sweltering summers when the only thing that keeps them alive are their siestas. Therefore, the houses are built to keep out the heat. Sun rays, beams, lasers...NOTHING that could possibly keep a human warm should enter.

Speaking from experience. I can tell you...it doesn't.

I reluctantly leave my man-made heating experience, unplug it, as not to set the house on fire, and go out into the day--ray, shine, wind. I walk for four hours.

I walk to a house. Stop. Stay an hour. Try and convince their child that English is important. They ask me to play a game. I ask them if they know what "Can you speak English means?" They say, "Comó?" I respond, "Exactly." They repeat, "Comó?" with a condescending look of confusion on their faces (how a 9-year old can look so condescending when so confused is beyond me...these kids take after their parents in so many ways...) So, I repeat this process for another three houses. Four hours can fly or can crawl.

The days when it crawled, my Spanish was horrible, I wasn't used to the cold, and I found more refuge in a cold beer with "friends," who would put up with my broken Spanish because... well, I still don't really know why.

Now, three months later, I find refuge in my space. I'm comfortable here. I have my friends. I enjoy my life. But, I have been sick for the past months...First, with the flu...Five days in bed...Now, congested without much motivation to go out. I just keep thinking how little time I have left and about all of the vacations I am about to embark upon...Barcelona, Portugal, Rome, London... all in the next month!?

Then, I thank the universe for all of my blessings. I comment upon my experiences here because I believe that life is short... It passes us by. We regret not doing things. We place importance on the future--on money, on a house, a car, etc. But, we don't enjoy. We don't salvage. We don't experience. On Saturday, I spent 8 hours in the forest, camping. Then, Carnaval on Sunday dressing up as "cine negro." Friends and family are pillars. They are our support system. When one falls, it is the other's job to reinforce the foundation that the other has established.

Give and take. Wholly and equally.

Love today.

Growin' up

The magic wears off somewhere along the way...

First, its the Tooth Fairy...then we connect those dots to the Easter Bunny (if the tooth fairy isn't real, what kinda bunny hides eggs and gives away money too?)
But, we spare Santa as long as possible to be confirmed as the last lie we've been told throughout childhood.

Our young lives revolve around the stability found within routine--a combination of nurture and nature that allows us to root ourselves in society and develop into the mature, adult trees we will be someday...

Then, we enter high school (the brutality endured during middle school is enough to forego mentioning it here)...

We are star-struck by the giants that own the school...the legends that have paid their dues to finally roam proudly along the grounds stained by their freshman blood, sweat, and tears just four short years ago.

We complete the cycle of awkward and new, to becoming the forgotten middle-child, to being introduced to the stressful world of real-life pressure and competition (SAT's, college), to finally breathing as we embrace the last chapter in our parent's photo albums, already imagining ourselves at our first college party as we park our cars on the first last day of "school."

Independence is that silver lining we all look for.

First, from our parents...
then, from ourselves...

From whatever we have created ourselves to be.

Self-obsessed, self-ignored, financially dependent, lazy, procrastinator, perfectionist, anxious, depressed, worried, doubtful, cynical, optimistic, alone, superficial...

I think my generation is still negotiating who it is. There is so much written these days about the confusion of one's "twenty's..." This epoch has come to confine us more than liberate us. We are overwhelmed because we are one of many instead of many who associate with one idea. We try to highlight our diversity as much as possible in order to get noticed. Then, the man tells us, "you just aren't what we're looking for..."

I yearn to strive for something. My impatience used to interfere with my hunger to conquer and establish myself and what I want...

But, then,

I moved to Spain...where everything closes for a siesta, is closed on Sunday, and I walk everywhere...then,

I moved to the pueblo...
then, I got sick for 5 days in bed, with only myself to care for myself...

I missed Carnaval...a decision that four short years ago, I wouldn't have made. I would have faced the harsh consequences of being sick another five long days in order to be a part of the "party."

I sit here counting down the 4 months I have left until I'm where I'm comfortable... not because of culture, language, customs...no, no, no. Spain has been my home away from home. But, I feel as if I'm stuck in this part of Dr. Seuss's poem:

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to racedown long wiggled roads at a break-necking paceand grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.The Waiting Place...


But, I chose to be here. I am not waiting at all... a bump in the road, then, you're back on your feet:

NO!
That's not for you!

Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.

Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored.  there are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame!  You'll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Believe in yourself and figure out who you are. Sometimes the closer you get to yourself, the further you end up being from everyone else.

That's okay....

That just means you're ahead of the game and closer to where you want to be in life.

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