All that you want

Is all that you can have.

Though I may have been removed from all that is familiar, safe, easy to understand (on the most basic level of a mutual language)...

It's a beautiful thing.

"Cur, tu puedes ayudarme con mi carta... mi cohvair letair..?"

"Claro! Mandámelo!"

The next day...

"Cur, gracias por tu ayuda! Gracias! Si tu quieres, mi padre ha cocinado pescado frito y va a cocinar caracoles! Ven! Ven, guapa!"

"Vale, venga! Estaré allí!"

Friend (n.): A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts (Friend)

Amigo (n.): Aquel individuo con el cual se mantiene un amistad (Amigo)

These are just words that describe other words...I've never had a friend that I can put into words nor limit to words.

So, this won't do. Think of it as a translation of my Spanish experiences that truly are unique and personal.

I met this girl through a friend here in the pueblo. These friendships are like the ones I have back at home... the ones that began in elementary school and have lasted through thick and thin...

Immediately, my name was "Cur..." not "Court..." Immediately, I was myself as my friends from home know me... Court. OK, you are on the team, new friend.

Every bone in her body yearns for what lies outside the South of Spain. She is an energy commander and attention grabber. Her friends joke about her faults and her habits...but, it's because she is that person that you want to be... that you look at and think, "Man, how much fun it would be if I could be like that..."

So, she asked me if I could read her Cover Letter for an internship program abroad.

CLAROOO.

Then, her lovely family invited me over for a "mellow" Sunday afternoon lunch.

As I walk in, almost immediately, the "hijas" are flowing from her mother's mouth quickly followed by, "what do you want to drink," as she hugs her large goblet of tinto de verano...

The same would be lovely.

They just finished landscaping their backyard... I get the tour.

I joke that it's the never-ending house... it's not a piso...it's a palacio.

Her piso is connected to that of her grandmother's, in case of an emergency, and to her mother's medical clinic below their piso. Además, they have constructed a mini-haven in their backyard complete with a wood oven, a game room, a dining room, a bathroom, and two or three standing bars...

You would think that being removed from California, especially Southern California, that I wouldn't be placed in a place so familiar and safe within a pueblo in the South of Spain. I never had these material luxuries that I could look forward to and share with humility, but, I was always lucky enough to be invited to luxurize with those friends of mine.

We sit down for lunch and begin with caracoles...snails. Yes...Snails. Like the ones you stepped upon when you were kid as they were slowly eeking across your front yard. Yeah, little attenas and slightly opened mouths and all...

All eyes on me. My primera vez...and they are all waiting for the verdict. Proud of their unique Spanish cuisine.

After about three, I retired my bowl. They don't taste like anything... and I attempt to explain, it's not that they're not "good," it's just I way rather eat from the heaping bowls of artichokes, octopus with potatoes, or three types of fried fish...

Do you want anything else to drink?

Do you like your food? Less talking! More eating!

Again, I attempt to explain that I prefer to eat slowly... Again, another trait that is lost in translation/custom...whatever it may be.

But, here's the thing: I got to be someone's daughter again...

I spend a lot of time with families here...but they are younger... I am an adult; I'm not a child nor could ever be a child that lives in another country abroad...for my mother, it's 12-hours in plane abroad...That exotic place called "Spain..."

After, my two glasses of wine (politely pressured by her mother...as a good Spanish mother should do), we begin to eat our dessert and drink our coffee...which led to margaritas and conversation. We talk about my job, customs here in Spain, and finish with how I went to a private school--a mutual characteristic that my friend and her boyfriend (who is present as well) also share.

It's funny, ain't it?

People are people...human beings. We have the same parts, capabilities, emotions...But, if we don't talk, it's because we don't share interests...or maybe, just maybe, one another's language. Expand with someone who you don't know, share, and explore, and you find that you have a lot more in common than you originally thought.

My friend is in this awesome place full of potential and hope. She finishes her degree in 3 months and all she can think about is living abroad and speaking English---London would be ideal and I pray she gets to do exactly what I'm doing here.

She confesses to me how hard it is to explain what she wants... but, I look at her and convince her that I completely understand...

Since September 2012, I have been through Spain, France, Germany, Holland, Belgium, Portugal, England, and Italy... That's 8 countries in almost 7 months. I never imagined this for myself. I never imagined myself sitting in my friend's house with her parents and boyfriend talking about anything and everything in Spanish, eating octopus, drinking margaritas from martini glasses, and sharing a similar background that extends and translates across language and cultural borders.

The more time I spend here, I realize that all of it is ending. No, I won't be here during the summer, and maybe, I'll have the opportunity to do it all again next year. But, I still don't know if I want to. All that I have right now is novel...raw...virgin. The experience is ripe and impressionable because I have never done it before.

But, even if I don't come back, I'm not worried because I have made friends for life. They have made me a part of their world without hesitation, doubt, or worry. So, when I say I'm in a familiar environment of privilege, private education, and security...I am, but not completely. The part that is unique to here is the warmth. The warmth of knowing someone immediately without knowing them and trusting in the goodness of the person. This is why I came to Spain and this is why I will miss it all the more.