Spain

Get ready for a long and beautiful blog post all about my trip this past weekend to Seville

 Spain to see my dear friend Taylor. 

I headed to Dublin on Wednesday night to stay with my friend Kristina who went to my high school. My flight the next morning left at 6 so I thought I would get more sleep if I stayed the night in Dublin than went to the airport early. Turns out I was wrong. I went to bed at 12:30 after getting hot whiskeys and catching up on life. I then woke up at 3am to walk a mile and a half to a bus stop that was not confirmed if it would in fact be there to pick me up for the airport. All worked out, of course, and I found myself in Madrid to explore before my train to Seville. 

Madrid was beautiful and just so much warmer than Ireland. The weather in Cork has finally turned toward crisp fall air and rain. While in Madrid I went to the art district based on a recommendation from a van life couple I follow. I couldn't exactly find where they went (a designated graffiti building) but did find another cool art gallery. 

My very personal favorite mural. 

In the afternoon I made my way to the train station where I took the fast train to Seville. The desert countryside dotted with vineyards was beautiful. There were mountains with tiny winding dirt roads that lead to even smaller homes. I was not expecting Spain to be as dry as it is. 

The first day I arrived I met Taylor at her college which meets in an old tobacco factory and she showed me around the city to all her favorite spots from beautiful parks to the best ice cream.

Her aunt connected us to Carlos who had couch surfed at her place in Alaska. We stayed at his lovely home which used to be a monastery. He is a 52 year old single dad who is a sociologist and works in Air Bnb and such. Thursday night we all went out for tapas (literally just small plates... did not know that) and he told us lots about the history of Spain and his thoughts on feminism, bull fighting, and being vegetarian. Taylor and I are probably some of the most curious people on the earth so we loved picking his brain and letting and ramble. 2.5 hours later we went to bed. He was a fabulous host who I could learn a lot about hospitality from. 

THOUGHTS Recently I've had a lot of thoughts about generosity and gratitude. In the US generosity is not expected and we learn to refuse it multiple times to be polite, even if we all know we will accept in the end. (ex. someone paying for your meal yet you refusing a few times). However, in other countries they are generous and expect you to be. They don't think twice about paying for your meal, and don't protest when you offer to pay for theirs the next night. Why do we make it such a big deal to be generous? 

The next day I got to join Taylor and her study abroad program for the excursion. We got on a bus and traveled a few hours to a bread factory. We got a tour of how they grind the flour, and the water mills that power the kneading of the dough. We then we got to participate in some of it from sifting the fibrous parts of the flour out and kneading the dough by hand to form the bread. It reminded me of my childhood when my mom would grind whole wheat flour and make 6 loaves of bread. 

Sometimes my friends look at me when I tell them these stories and all I have to say is, "Yes, yes I am Laura Ingalls".

After that we headed to a hike while the bread baked. The hike was beautiful winding around along a river. Before I came to Spain I was a bit overwhelmed with all of the details on how to actually get to Seville. Taylor kindly sent me tons of information on what we would be doing but I didn't really have a good look. Anyway, I only brought one pair of shoes, my leather sandalish flats. However, we did the hike anyway in non-athletic attire, and you know what, we were completely fine. It made me think, as I looked around at all the Americans in tennis shoes and leggings, at how often I say no to things because of the "wrong' footwear and clothing. I mean they used to wear sandals everywhere, so can we. 

At the end of the 5km hike we were rewarded with fresh bread, goat cheese and meat, and we bought ourselves a glass bottle coke to share. There's nothing more satisfying to me than a cane sugar coke.

After the hike the bus took us to a white village called Grazalema where we wandered the siesta deserted streets. I felt like we were in a movie looking out on the mountains eating our cakes and drinking sparkling wine. 

Throughout this whole weekend you'll see our true love of food. I have no other friend who shares my constant mind on food. Honestly it's very helpful. "You wanna get a coffee?" "Yes, obviously" "What should we do?" "Ice cream?" "I was just thinking that".

Grazalema 

The next day we got up and ate a delicious breakfast of smoked salmon avocado toast with freshly squeezed orange juice. The fashion of Spain was just impeccably effortless. I would stop and dazzle at the wedding attenders in their perfectly crafted looks. I feel like when I travel I try to keep my expectations low that the stereotypes that come to mind are not true. Honestly, so far I find them to be true and I love it. The beautiful, tan, dark haired woman with a sun dress, strappy sandals, and lots of jewelry? Definitely there. Men wearing linen button downs with tussled hair and smooth moves? also there. 

I'm not going to lie. Going to Taco Bell was probably one of the highlights. I've always loved it. Growing up we were not allow to eat fast food. However, in the rare case my mother was desperate or we were on a road trip, she would make an exception for only Taco Bell. However, we were only allowed to order the 7-layer burrito (hello more nutrition) but she always told them to leave off the sour cream!!!! Henry and I had such a love that we would chant "Taco Bell! Taco Bell!" anytime we would pass it in the car. That never swayed her though.

Throughout the day we kept finding ourselves sitting eating something delicious. After Paella for lunch we knew we needed a bit of a siesta. We started making our way to the large park to look for a bench or grass. On our way, we found the most majestic Magnolias. At K-state sometimes we find ourselves climbing trees. We mentioned one time how much we did it as kids, so why not now? 

K-state rock climbing I promise I'm practicing even overseas ok!

Taylor's the friend who shows me it's ok to still be a child. To have 12 year old boy humor and to let your childish mind out every once in a while. To enjoy food, to laugh at stupid jokes and to climb trees. This sounds like she's irresponsible and immature, but quite the contrary. 

After a few gnarly ant bites we carried on our quest for a patch of grass. We finally found some and laid down. Taylor decided that if she wrapped her bag around her neck there would be no way someone would be able to steal it. I was rolling on the ground laughing. just thought you should see. 

After our siesta, we grabbed another Coke and made our way to the contemporary art museum. By this point we had walked around 13 miles and our "dogs were barking" as Kevin Malone would say. Thankfully we found a couch at one of the exhibits. Let's just say we still really don't understand how pen drawings I could doodle on a church bulletin make it in an art museum. Someone please explain. 

I guess I didn't really know about Spain and it's beautiful tiles, but they are everywhere. The architecture in Seville has lots of influence from the middle east and Islam. I also noticed lots of elements that were 3-D. Instead of painted on walls, it was carved. Very beautiful and majestic place for sure. 

We took a stop and rented a small row boat to break up the afternoon. It was VERY hard and I was VERY bad. But Taylor looked great and did great

Unforgettable Dinner

That night we wondered around looking for dinner. At this point we had reached probably 16 miles and we were very tired and getting hungry. We kept passing restaurants that were full or reservation only. We were at the point where we really didn't care where we ate, and yet some how just kept walking. We finally stumbled into a Mediterranean restaurant that was deserted. I plugged in my phone and laid my head on the table. 

Because we had the place to ourselves and it was much quieter. We found ourselves in a fireworks conversation over our alfredo and hummus. Fireworks is the only way I can explain it when the Holy Spirit inside of two people is talking. 

This is what heaven on earth is. This is why it's important to stay in the word and stay nourishing yourself and not just have heaven as a ticket. Because of conversations like this. 

That night we talked about your spirit. Who God made your soul to be. Not your actions and life choices that make up our days, but who at our core our spirit is. We talked about how much the New Testament Jesus talks about children and going back to childhood. What were the words that described who you were as a child, not your actions, but you. I think this goes along with the thought I often ask people which is what lights up your soul.

sweet. sensitive. loved babies. loved fashion. 

We talked about worshiping Who God is not necessarily our perception of What He's done for us. Think about the lyrics of some contemporary worship songs. We talk about our promises to Him and what He's done. But I wonder if that perpetuates our unhealthy focus on what we've done and not who we are. We are Beings not Doings. 

We rattled on and on until finally I needed to start heading for the bus station. 

As we were leaving I heard the timid voice of our waiter behind us say, "Do you work with refugees?" On the back of Taylor's backpack is a pin that says "refugees are welcome here" from her job this summer. She said yes and told him about her job in the US. His eyes sparked and gleamed with sadness and exhaustion as he said "We are refugees from Syria." My heart fell as images of bombed buildings, refugee camps, and children holding severed heads flashed in my mind. He then said "You are welcome here". Even writing this brings the tears back to my eyes and my heart ache. I asked him what he thought of Spain and he said, "We love it, because it's safe".

All I could think about was the statistics people talk about and the news articles that detach us from the human. I thought again of my dream to teach boxing to women in the middle east. 

As we walked away God gave me an image. 

An image of two girls plopping down in a restaurant with their backpacks at 9pm. As their conversation rolls on, their eyes begin to light up, they lean in more and more and sparks start to flicker. Small sparks at first then a light. I saw the waiter watching us wondering what on earth they could be talking about. And what on earth the light was and where the little flickers of light came from. 

The Holy Spirit.

Jesus my friend, Jesus.

and the girl's Heavenly Father.