The Most Wonderful Time Of the Year

English is not my thing this week.

Nationalism- Not Just a Vocab Word Anymore

I remember being in 9th grade (not something I enjoy doing very often but still, it happens) and writing this word dutifully down in my Honors World History notebook, defining it as "the feeling of great pride towards ones country." I never gave the term much more thought than that; until now, that is.
I'd always heard that European countries were very proud of themselves, very nationalistic. They all have very rooted and strong cultures, unlike the melting pot that is America. In fact, one of the things I was most excited about upon hearing that I would be going to Spain. In my mind, it meant a plethora of splendor- people who were proud of their country meant they would be happy, right? Happy people are good! Sure, there were other thoughts in there somewhere (I do believe "I can take an AP test when I get back and pass, awesome" and "I freaking love Spanish hot chocolate" were in there somewhere) but that was the main idea.
I've been here two months now, and I think I have probably witnessed enough nationalism on both my part and the part of those around me to last me a lifetime. "Pride" and "enthusiasm" are not words grand enough to accurately describe the feeling of nationalism.
Now, what I'm about to say is not meant in any way to be a slander to the Spanish people. I love this culture very much, but it's been an observation of mine that they might just be a bit too proud of both their country for me to be comfortable.
Of course, there are many things about Spanish nationalism that I adore- the enthusiasm about the Spanish futbol teams, the flags everywhere, the pride they take in cooking traditional foods, and much more. There are also some things that rub me the wrong way. For instance, when I get asked how many times I've brought a gun to school or when I get laughed at by an entire classroom for mispronouncing a word or even told that there's no way I can possibly learn Spanish because I'm American, I start to wonder who taught these kids manners and respect. Sure, there are those people who are just rude in general, but for the most part this ignorance is considered normal.
I don't know about you, but I would never ask a Spanish person if they fight bulls as a hobby or a job, or tell them that the reason their economy is going down the drain is their 2 hour siesta every day. I recognize those as stereotypes, and would never treat them as a truth unless I was given solid proof to believe that they were, in fact, accurate. But not most of my Spanish peers. They don't recognize it as stereotyping- in fact, there was a girl in my Spanish Language and Literature class today who asked the teacher what the word "stereotipo" meant, and my teacher explained it like it was a word she hadn't expected any of us to have encountered before. Whatever happened to unity week in like 3rd grade when we learned to treat everyone equally and not to separate based on stereotypes and to not make assumptions? Apparently they haven't quite translated that into Spanish yet.
I've also developed quite a bit of nationalism for America while being here. I'm growing to appreciate the school system, and especially Summit, for its freedom and varied levels of difficulty. The responsibilities (especially those brought on by student jobs, driving, and being put in leadership positions in after school activities), I am realizing, are both greatly missed and loved for being the greatest teacher in maturity. Oregon is also becoming one of the greatest places in the world in my head. I always knew it was wonderful, sought out by people all over the world, whatever, but I never truly realized it until it was hundreds of thousands of miles away. I guess absence makes the heart grow fonder, at least in this case.
I know this has gotten fairly personal and even a bit rude but it's been a big part of my exchange. I'm realizing that being a world citizen means not only learning as much as possible about the world, it also means appreciating where you come from. I love my country and I love Spain, even though sometimes they seem to love themselves a bit too much. Nationalism is a good thing, a very important thing.

Traveling Whilst Traveling

I've had very nice opportunities to travel to different parts of southern Spain, and I'm going to have many more (Melilla for Christmas and Sevilla in the spring are positives!). I'm really very lucky:)

Granada

 To be honest, I don't really know very much of the story behind this cathedral. It's in the center of the town, and it's gorgeous. I went to Granada with a group of maybe 9ish other Rotary students, and for a couple hours in between meetings we explored the city. Luckily two were living with families there so they made sure we didn't get lost! It was really nice being surrounded by people who not only could I talk with in a language that I fully understand, but who are also going through many of the same things I'm going through. I love my exchange student friends because we help each other get through a lot. While I know it's important for me to have Spanish friends so as to learn the culture better, I've found that they don't always offer the friendship I need when I'm having homesick days or problems with some part of Spain. That's what the other exchangees are for:)

This is also something I don't know very much about, other than the fact that it's really pretty. My counselor lives in Granada and I'm hoping to visit her one weekend, and maybe she'll be able to explain things to me! That's one of the weirdest things I've gotten used to here, to be honest- not understanding anything. I've had to give up much of my stubbornness to just go along for the ride, because I just don't have enough knowledge of the language or of the place we are or of what people actually do here to try to take control. This is a bit different for me, but it's definitely good.

 Cordoba

 This is the courtyard of the cathedral. Cordoba is very well known for its mosque-turned-cathedral, which is both huge and gorgeous. Back when it was built it was traditional for cathedrals to have courtyards, and in Andalucia orange trees were always in the courtyards. There are dozens and dozens and dozens of orange trees in Cordoba, lining the streets and in this courtyard. Everything smells like oranges and it made me so happy!

 Another view of the courtyard, this time with the fountain that's in the center! It was really pretty, though I don't think there had been any coins thrown in. I really loved the courtyard, and didn't want to leave it to go inside the mosque!

 This was the mosque portion of the building. The mosque part was much darker, with less windows and red/black paint and marble pillars. I really liked it, and greatly admired the detail that had been put into the paintings around the doorways like this one. Also, I got told not to dance by a security guard in this very spot. He thought it was funny that I was doing pirouettes casually in the middle of a mosque.

 I stood in the middle of the cathedral part looking up at the ceiling, breathless, for a good 20 minutes. It was without a doubt one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. I've been to cathedrals in many parts of the world before, but I think the light in this one just made it so incredible. I don't even know how to describe it!

On our way home from Cordoba we visited several museums dedicated to sculptures of famous Spanish things out of candy. This is Malaga constructed from chocolate, sugar, and frosting. I had a lot of fun seeing what parts of it I recognized, and also admiring the sheer detail of it.

My Name Is

I still have all those pictures that maybe one day I'll upload to make a blog post, but lately I've been feeling a bit uninspired to do anything but eat chuches and wear multiple pairs of socks. Winter has come earlier than I'd expected it to (not that 50 degrees and cloudy is winter but still, it's December) leaving me in need of a puffy black vest to keep me warm and strange Spanish study habits to not fail my finals.
But along with those situational needs has come an annual thing, something that affects me every year regardless of where I am. My mom calls it "the Winter Blues" and for a couple weeks it gets me down and makes it hard for me to do things like type for longer than thirty seconds and smile. Luckily I'm learning how to combat it by surrounding myself with people who give me hugs and/or chocolate, but being productive is still a bit difficult.
I've recently found that some of my favorite people to give me hugs and/or chocolate here are the members of my host family. Making friends has proven to be a bit of the challenge (big surprise, Hannah's having trouble getting along with teenagers even on the other side of the world) but especially lately I've been growing closer to my host family.
With my family thousands of hundreds of lots of miles away it's nice to have a brother to watch TV with, a mom to gossip with, a dad to discuss politics with, and a sister to laugh and color with. Even though she's only 9, Ana and I have this cute little bond that means we can keep secrets together, do homework together, watch Disney Channel together, read silly books together, and snuggle each other awake on those mornings when we're especially tired. I'm very lucky to live in a house with such a similar family dynamic to my own, and even luckier to get on with the family itself.
It's a different bond than that which I have with the my American family, for sure. I mean, I've only known them for two months, we barely speak the same language, and they already had established a family relationship long before I came along. So, while they may call me a daughter or a sister (which makes me tear up and want to give everyone hugs) and I may call them my Spanish family, they're a different kind of family than what I've grown up with, and not just because they look different.
This is not bad in any way. In fact, it's actually rather awesome. I get to have homes in two different parts of the world, two sets of trusted adults to help me, and two sets of kids my age that I can do everything from bickering to making cookies with. It may contribute to the tearing sensation inside me that comes with being rooted in two completely different places at the same time, but that's one of the reasons I went on exchange- to become a world citizen.
My name in Spanish makes me feel very much like a world citizen. Hannah, pronounced with a Spanish accent, is my Hebrew name, which represents my religious and cultural background filled with learning to give to the less fortunate and eating with family. Leah is from my mom's mom, and it gives me the grace and stubbornness from that side of the family. Goldstein is from my dad's family, the part of me that's loyal and just a little bit insane. And, finally, the name that my host parents have started calling me by- Castillejo. That is from my Spanish family, which has taught me the importance of stability and exploration. I also have an incessant need for order and a natural rhythm that I'm starting to suspect is the Spaniard in me, and it just took this exchange for me to figure that out.
I love my name and what it says about me. It shows my family over the continents, and even helps explain some of my attributes. Being so far from home, though, has made me realize how much I really do love America, so I think I need just one more name- one to show my pride and sense of adventure, an American name. I'm thinking something outrageous like "Murca" but no one has ever called me that except myself that one time about 3 seconds ago. I'm not in any sort of a rush, though. What do you guys think?
Even through these pesky winter blues I'm finding contentment in my family, both new and old. They make me who I am, and finding contentment with them helps me to find contentment with myself which I guess is one of the most important parts of growing up.

El Palo Tour- My School

A couple notes: yes, we did go to English and no, no one was there. That kid Tony really did just start following us around because he was excited that we were speaking English. 

Also... I'm having Thanksgiving with my host family and some exchange student friends on Thursday, so pictures are to come. 

An Update in My Life

So, this is yet another video update, it gets a bit more personal than a travel blog should but just keep in mind that you don't have to watch this. Also I apologize for the turtleneck.

Solitude is Bliss

Thank you all very much for the birthday wishes/presents/cards/letters. I had an excellent time celebrating turning 17 here in Spain. I'm very happy right now, which is good. I'm also learning life lessons all over the place, which is also good.
I was Skyping my mom last night and, being the Journalism Mom (like a Dance Mom but not really at all) that she is, she asked me what kind of article I'd write about my experience here so far. I laughed at that for a bit, but then I thought about it seriously. What would I write about? I could definitely compose a solid list of complaints or gush for pages about everything I love, but that's not exactly something worth publishing. After a couple minutes I said that, if I had to be entirely honest, I'd write about what it's like to be alone.
I've felt alone at many points in my life at varying levels of intensity. There was the time I got lost in the woods in Canada, the first time I was left home alone by myself, when I went to Washington DC without my family, all the times I feel left out of a conversation, etc. But never have I ever been as alone as I am right now. It's not even a bad thing- I actually rather enjoy it. It's an educational thing, really, and it's teaching me to be comfortable with myself.
I have always been a pretty independent person, but I never really even knew what that meant before coming here. I have always (mostly) made my own decisions. But until Spain, I had always unknowingly been influenced by something or someone. I knew the social norms of where I lived, what my friends and family thought, what I was predicted or expected to do, how the people around me would react to different things. Here I have none of that knowledge. This may be inconvenient, being surrounded by completely foreign ideas and people all day long, when all I want to do is hug my little sister or have a nice peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but it can also be beneficial. In many ways, it has freed me. I am still held to a certain standard by my host family and by myself, but I am also largely allowed to do what I want and find out who I really am.
Being yourself is hard when people who you've known for years and years already have an idea of who they think you are. Being yourself is easy when you don't have the language skills, energy or memory capacity to pretend to be anyone else for longer than a minute or so. I can't remember the difference between "cuchara" and "cuchillo" (words I use rather frequently) so I definitely can't remember the difference between all the different ways I present myself when speaking to different people. I am forced to wear one face because not only am I too tired to keep track of a bunch of different identities, but I really only want to be one person; myself.
When I was younger someone told me that in elementary school you find your role as a family member, in middle school you find your role as a friend, and in high school you find your role as yourself. I think that was one of the main reasons I so frequently separated myself from everyone when I was still in Bend (that, and the fact that I don't tend to like most people, so if I've given you this link feel special cos it must mean I like you)- it's impossible to get to know yourself if you are constantly surrounded by people with their own opinions, way of speaking, life goals, etc. People don't realize how great of an influence the people you interact with have on you. Being alone is very important when you are trying to figure out who you are. Here in Spain, I spend a lot of time both physically and mentally alone. It takes me 45 minutes in the morning to take the bus to school and most of the time I don't see anyone I know on my commute, which means I get some good thinking time in. Also most of the time I get very frustrated not being able to understand anything that's going on when everyone's speaking in rapid Andalucian Spanish, so I remove my thoughts from the conversation and get some good thinking time in then, too. I've learned some  very important things about myself from all this thinking time. For instance, I may be regarded as intelligent by some but I am definitely not an academic; an important distinction, as choosing a college used to be based on academics for me but now I know I'd rather choose based on the experience it can give me.
Another way being alone has made me get to know myself is by seeing how I handle challenges and struggles. My whole life is a challenge right now- unless you have ever been in a scarily similar situation to mine, you cannot understand how difficult it is not understanding the language, social norms, grading system, anything about the place you are now LIVING in- and as a result much of what I do defines who I am. Dealing with a tough situation brings out who we really are, I've always thought, and the fact that I'm doing it all on my own has helped me realize a great deal of things about myself that I wouldn't have been able to learn had someone been helping me. For instance, when a friend of mine lost her wallet on a long-gone bus I learned that I'm actually an optimist when I immediately began listing off solutions and ways to fix this and how she could get her wallet back and who we could call, etc. That was huge for me, because my melancholiness has always tricked me into believing I'm a pessimist. In reality, I'm just a slightly sad optimist.
I've always enjoyed being alone, but here solitude is more than just bliss; it's an important way for me to learn who I am. I am becoming less and less defined by the people I surround myself with and the places I go and more and more defined by me.

Picture Update!

This is a picture of my dear friend Francesca and some juice. But this isn't just any juice- this is two liters of straight-up juice nectar for 85 cents at the Supersol down the street from our bus stop. Francesca and I recently started teaching an English class four days a week after school, and on the way home we always stop at the Supersol and get whatever juice is on sale and either crackers, fruit, or cookies. We have to eat lunch at school and we never seem to be full after (probably because our families eat at home and we just pack a sandwich for after school), so this is a good way to tide over our hunger until dinner at nine.

The classroom that serves as our English teaching room. It's in the beauty school right below our high school (literally right below- we have to walk by it on our way to gym), and the students that we teach go to the beauty school, too. Francesca and I teach two classes two days a week, one Mondays and Wednesdays and the other Tuesdays and Thursdays. So far it has been a source of stress as the students are very unpredictable about when they show up- if they show up at all. Half the time I end up going home at 4 instead of 5 because no one showed up. But hopefully we'll get a steady flow of students in the next month and everything will be easy and all that jazz.

Though we're not even a month from Christmas, one of my favorite Navidad treats is called Mantecado (pronnounced "mahn-tay-cow") and we went into a small town about an hour and a half from Malaga to go to this special shop just to buy mantecado. That may sound a bit ridiculous, but these things are so good it was totally worth it. I don't even know how to explain what Mantecado is. It's not like anything I'd ever tasted before. It also comes in different flavors, though my favorite is chocolate with these little chocolate chips that are so good! It's kind of like a cookie but more crumbly and it has the consistency of brown sugar I guess. Maybe I'll bring some home.

After we bought mantecado we went with my host family and Isabel's mom and brother and their families to a restaurant with all these awesome old artifacts. I made Ana pose with several of them and each time she chose a seated apparition and pretended to be asleep. She cracks me up every day and is so much fun! I'm so glad I have a host sister, especially one as funny as Ana. 

Francesca and I were very sad on Halloween because we realized that there was no such thing as an American Halloween in Spain. So, we decided to create our own! We bought all the different American kinds of candy at the Supersol and dressed up as Americans (which pretty much just meant carrying around a small American flag and singing American songs). Our friends found it super entertaining and couldn't stop laughing the entire night.

The eve of Halloween- this was in the Centro at probably 11 or 12 at night. The girl on the left is Inma and the girl on the right is Patri. They're both friends from school and some of the sweetest people I have ever met. We stayed out til 2 that night, which was surprising considering it was a Monday night but we had both Monday and Tuesday off for a holiday. We like to joke that Monday was to get us prepped for partying and Tuesday was to let us recover from the partying. Either way we got a four day weekend just for Halloween. I'm not arguing with why we got it.

A little something I like to call "Language Cock Block"

So, apparently I'm not posting on Mondays or Thursdays. Or maybe I am and I just screwed this week up. Either way, I apologize for the lack of updates this week. I just know you all were sitting on the edge of your seats waiting to hear from me (that was sarcasm, by the way). I'd also like to warn you that though my mood and well-being has greatly improved since last week, I'm still a bit crabby. If you want a more detailed recollection of how I've gotten over my severe case of homesickness/bitterness, feel free to email me.
Also, I'd like to mention two very important events that are surrounding today- my One Month, which was on Tuesday, and my birthday, which is on Thursday. I will be 17 which is a big deal- it means I'm finally legal in the wizarding world! Yay, me. If you happen to have any presents or letters or cards ask my mother how to address them, as I haven't the foggiest how to do it. I know you need the address itself and then there's something to do with my host dad's name and I don't know what it is but my mom does so just ask her. Not that I expect presents or letters or cards. Honest, I don't. Though some birthday wishes would definitely be appreciated considering I'm alone in a foreign country.
Something that's been on my mind lately is how much of a language barrier there still is between me and everyone else in Spain. Before I came here I was sure I'd be able to understand everything everyone said. I was a pro at Spanish- never mind what everyone was telling me about the impossible Andalucian accent, I'd kick butt and wow all those Spaniards with my language skills.
Boy, was I wrong. Sure, my Spanish was more than adequate in the US, but in the big scheme of things I'd taken four years of language from non-native Spanish speakers in Oregon public schools and could barely pick out fragments of words in sentences spat at me my first week here. I adapted the bad habit of smiling and nodding, not knowing what I was agreeing to. It was embarrassing, to say the least. But it proved those theories stating that immersion in a Spanish speaking country was the best way to learn the language.
Now, a month later, I've drastically improved but I'm still not fluent by any means. My friends and host family still need to speak slowly and choose their words carefully in order for us to have a normal conversation. Even with that, being surrounded all day every day by people and books and signs and all that written or spoken in a completely different language is one of the most exhausting things ever. Sometimes it gets me down, and I feel like I try so hard all the time but with no success. Other times I look back on how much I've improved and I feel good about myself. It's a new feeling for sure. Language has never been a problem for me- I was always that annoying kid who looked forward to the spelling bee and corrected my teachers on their grammar. Here, my nine-year-old host sister is constantly providing me with the right word or verb conjugation or even phrase.
I've found ways to adapt to not being able to communicate, though. I am now probably the best charades player you will ever meet, and I will never again feel ridiculous about making insane gestures or word combinations in public. I've figured out that I can just get straight to the point to avoid making vague conversation (the hardest kind of conversation to make and, I've realized, the most pointless). I'm figuring out how to use my Spanish as well as I can and even communicate without words. Until I'm fluent, though, all I can really do is watch Phineas and Ferb in dubbed Spanish and write down awkward translations on top of all my tests.

Just In Case Y'all Were Wondering...

This is how I am today.

To Be Honest...

Quite often I feel like my entire life is composed of comparisons. It's like instead of seeing colors, I see only black and white- new and old. For the most part I'm excited by all the differences. I love taking the bus from the beach to the beautiful architecture of the Centro, buying two fresh baked baguettes with a 1 euro coin from my coin purse, and the sheer honesty here. I'm approaching these changes with optimism. I'm keeping my mind open.
But, as those of you who know me well know, I struggle with optimism. Recently I've had a hard time finding anything but negativity in this foreign country. I feel like a news anchor for the international news- only focusing on the bad when there is so much good in the world around me. To be honest, the mindset I'm in right now disgusts me and I force myself to smile and say I love it here. I force myself to think I'm happy when really, I'm frustrated by the slurry Spanish and the unspoken social rules that I'm just expected to know.
Remember when I mentioned how much I love the pure honesty here? Well, even in this pessimistic state of mind I still appreciate it. One of my favorite things I've heard here was said by my friend Sandra after she asked me how I was one day and I answered "good!". She said, "You don't always need to be good. You don't always need to smile. If you're having a bad day you can glare at people and not talk because it means you get to wake up in the morning with the bad mood out of your system. Just act how you feel because keeping it bottled up just makes it worse."
She's right. One part of being honest is being honest in how you feel, not just in what you're telling people. It's OK to have a bad day as long as you don't take those emotions out on others in a harmful way. It's OK to want to go home and just watch 50 First Dates with your little sister, more than you want to see a world-famous piece of architecture. It's OK to frown all through school because it isn't something you wanted to do. It's even OK to complain to your mom for nearly an hour about how much you hate your professors and how all the girls are gossiping about you as an American and you don't know why because you thought they were your friends (thank you for that, by the way). Having a bad day is OK. Pretending you're not having it is not.
I'm learning how to stop cowboying up when I don't need to, which is hard considering I've been raised on that motto. If there's one thing that's different about Spain that I can enjoy through the good and the bad, it's the honesty- it allows me to be myself. And that is something I can live with.

See life through my eyes with my mind's commentary

 The Centro- Technically called "Centro de Ciudad" but everyone just calls it "El Centro" because it's just downtown. It's always crowded, especially this main road (where no cars are allowed to go) but the architecture is incredible and I can't stop going back! My new favorite after school activity is going to the Centro and exploring the side streets.

 The Centro again- still the main street. Shops line it (including an H&M!) but most are very expensive. I'm still looking for a cute thrift store or something where I can buy my clothes for cheap. I haven't bought anything yet but I'm sure I will in the next couple weeks.

 Me in front of the bull fighting ring- the most famous landmark in Malaga. Search the city up in Google and this is what you'll find. I have yet to actually visit it, though my host family tells me we'll be going to see a bull fight while I'm here. I've heard they're a bit gruesome, but I simply have to see ONE!

 The neighborhood my school is in- called El Palo, it used to be where the old fishermen live so it's notorious for being one of the most run down parts of Malaga. Luckily I'm only here during the day so it's not scary, but there's definitely lots of graffiti and litter everywhere. Even my school is kind of run down; it adds to the character, but what a change from Summit.

 Another view of the bullfighting ring with the city and the sea in the background. I feel so lucky to be one train away from walking along the Mediterranean Sea; I'm an ocean child and it feels so good to be back living so close to the crashing waves. Not that the waves here crash so much as they weakly slap the sand (or rocks depending on where you are) but it's good enough for me.

My school IES El Palo. It's rather large though this picture doesn't accurately depict it; there are 5 stories though only 4 at a time are accessible. That doesn't make any sense but that's how it is. There's also not a parking lot because no one can drive to school- those who can drive mopeds which are super popular (and freaking awesome!) here. I have 6 classes a day but 11 classes in total, and every day I have a different schedule. Confusing but at least they're all exactly an hour and I have them all with the same group of people so we just walk around in a herd except when I go to my bilingual classes.

 This is the beach within walking distance of my house! It would take about an hour to walk but with the bus it's only 20ish minutes. It's a rock beach which I like because it doesn't have any of that dirty imported sand. There's a prettier beach (reminds me more of the Oregon coast, to get to the one that reminds me of the California coast you have to walk west) if you walk east for a bit, but this one does just fine. The water is so calm- it's almost like a lake. I've also heard that on super clear, unsmoggy days you can see Africa in the horizon.

 This is facing the east. There's a nice row of sea-facing restaurants if you follow a sketchy path that takes you nearly through the water, but it's all worth it. I went there a couple of nights ago with some girlfriends and we ended up walking all the way to Playa Virginia, a mile or more away! It's nights like those that I'm so grateful for the bus system.

 The cathedral in the center is breathtaking. I've seen it both at night and during the day, and it's on my list of things to do here to go and tour it. It's huge and I'll probably have to dedicate an entire day to it but that's part of the fun! I took this picture on an outing with some friends that included a kebob wrap and being nice to hobos. I don't think my Spanish friends understood that concept but they were pretty cool about it. That's what I love most about Spain so far- the people are incredible! Making friends is so easy because everyone is so open.

 These two above photos are from a mini procession through the Centro one evening. These are very common especially during Easter week- which here is called Semana Santa- when day long religious marches happen. They wear those hats that, in America, are associated with the KKK but here are a symbol of faith in God and Spanish tradition. My host dad told me I might get to wear one which I think would be both an incredible experience and a funny thing to take pictures of.

 My current host family has a vacation home in Marbella, a tourist city on the outskirts of Malaga. It has both a beach and a pool in addition to the house itself which can sleep up to 10! The day I went here we stayed at the pool and barbequed, but I'm hoping to go back to go to the beach. It's different than the beaches in Malaga because the sand seems cleaner- most of the beaches here are man made so it's easy for the sand to end up as dirt.

 When we went to Marbella my host sister, Ana, was in charge of showing me around. This is the pool that we spent the day at- I fell asleep in the sun, but luckily my host mom, Isabel, covered me up with a towel to avoid getting sunburnt. Ana and I swam for a bit too, but the pool was very shallow. I could touch with my knees and still breathe the whole time! 

To be entirely honest, I don't know the name of this place. I do know, however, that it's on the way from the Centro to the train station. Here everything is judged by its distance from the Centro. Buses are either entering or exiting it. It's actually very close to the center, so it proves to be a very convenient reference site!

Time Warp

I never knew time could be so fickle. I've been here ten days, though depending on the minute that time could feel closer to ten weeks, ten hours, or anything in between. The time doesn't pass by quickly here, but it sure doesn't drag on either. The days I spend in Malaga, Spain seem to wax and wane unpredictably.
Sometimes this time warp is good- like when I can't tell how long I've had my friends here because we're already so comfortable with each other. Or when I can mostly understand the teachers but they still don't make me do any work. Or when I can just hang out with my host family and I don't feel like I have to do anything extra special, but I'm still new enough that they get to ask me questions (which I like answering).
However, it can also affect me negatively- like when I think I can go to bed when everyone else goes to bed, but I can't because I'm still a bit jet lagged. Or when I hop on the bus and think I know Malaga really well but instead end up stranded 30 minutes away from my school with ten minutes to get to class. Or when my Spanish "skills" deceive me and I end up saying "yes" to something I didn't want to do.
All "good" and "bad" aside, however long the time has been that I've been here has been incredible. I think one of the reasons my hours seem like minutes and my days seem like weeks is that I have so many new things jammed inside my head. Apparently when your brain can't take anything else in, it loses its knowledge of what "time perception" means. And it makes sense that I have no room left- I am learning about culture, people, Malaga, Spanish, customs, the world, and even Greek (I am taking 5 language classes in case anyone was counting). But most importantly, I am learning about myself in relation to all of those things.
Regardless of how quickly or slowly the time passes, the time I've spent here has been time well spent. Every day I am grateful for something new, and I realize how lucky I was to have certain things back home as well. I like the contrast (proof that I am my father's daughter) and look forward to more of it in the near, or far, future.

If you'd like to know anything specific about my exchange experience, email me at hannahleahgold@gmail.com or message me on Facebook.
Keep calm and travel on.

Home Tour Malaga: First family

Featuring way too many stairs and a great display of my superb Spanish skills. Sponsored by the color orange.

Sunshine and ocean air, I'm on my way

As soon as I received my visa, everything has seemed to move along pretty quickly. I found out yesterday that I would for sure be on the 7:30 plane out of Portland and on my way to Malaga, meaning I leave tonight to stay in Portland overnight.
I thought I was prepared for this- honestly, I did! I've been waiting nearly four weeks for this day now (actually, much longer than that; but that's how long I've been ready to go and packed and all that jazz), but once it got here everything's gone by so fast I feel lost in a whirlwind. All of a sudden I have 24 (well, 3 now) hours to say goodbye to everyone I love. I didn't know I liked so many people until it came time to have to leave them for eleven months.
I'm still getting used to the fact that I will not sleep in my bed for close to a year. I'm still getting used to the fact that after I drop him off at work, I won't see my brother for a very long time. I'm still getting used to the fact that I won't get puppy love and tree climbing when I go to the Nopps'. I'm still getting used to the fact that I made several very strong girls cry today when I had to give them one final hug- man, was that hard. Saying goodbye to my best friends in the whole world was not something I'd care to repeat!
This is all part of the adventure; the nervousness, the stress, the sadness. And that makes me okay with all of it.

And now, your feature presentation

It's been nearly four weeks of waiting but I've done it and now my visa has finally arrived. For those of you who aren't familiar with the purpose of a student visa, the importance of having it in my position is that it allows me to board that plane to Spain (I heart rhyming). Though I don't know when I'm leaving still, it's a relief to know that it will most likely be within the next week or so- whenever they can stick me on an airplane to Madrid.
Unless you've had your dream snapped suddenly for a foreign, inexplicable reason and left hanging for almost a month without any estimate of when it's expected to be repaired and set back on track, I don't think you can understand what this really means to me. It's more than just having my passport back (though that is a nice, added bonus)- it represents progress and tells me that maybe, just maybe, I'm allowed to have what I've worked for.

Visa Standoff

Now not only do I not know when I'm leaving, but there's a possibility it might not be for a very very long time. I just heard that there's a bit of an argument going on between the Spanish consulate and the Spanish government that's been preventing everyone but 2 people from getting their visas. Ahh, to be one of those two people... Unfortunately, I'm not.
I guess I'll know in the next month when I'll be leaving but for now, there's really nothing I can do about it.

Postponed Until Further Notice

So, my original departure date was supposed to be September 5th, which would be in two days. However, considering I'd be getting on the plane in 48 hours and still don't have my Visa, passport, or plane tickets I'm going to say it's safe to assume that I will not be leaving on Monday.
This means that I've told everyone goodbye, packed my bags, and turned my room into the guest room a bit early. What am I supposed to do now? It's not like I know when I'm leaving now so I can't plan out the rest of my Oregon time in accordance...
I guess what's left for me to do is wait. I'm not a particularly patient person, so this may be hard for me. All I really want to do right now is walk, jet lagged and dirty, off a plane onto foreign soil. But, again... I have to wait.