CGISGRANADA2015: Vida Lluviosa (Final Blog)

Vida Lluviosa

"Gracias a La Vida que Me Ha Dado Tanto"

Early during my time in Spain I had many moments of clarity. After about two weeks, I fell into a comfortable, easy pattern of life, which was a nice change from my continuously thoughtful mind. However, recently I've found a "second wave" of contemplation. I've never lived in a place outside the United States before, and here I am, six weeks later, living my last full week in Granada. It's difficult to put my thoughts into words, and I'm sure as this next week develops my mind will continue to be perplexed and my heart confused.

Today it's raining.

To most people rain doesn't mean much, and when/if rain is something to be thought about, it's negative.

I love when it rains.

Some love rain because they have some cliche idea that it's melodramatic, or they like to "dance in the rain," or enjoy the "fresh smell," or the "sound against their windowpanes." Although these things are nice (and incredibly cliche in my opinion), I have many memories when rain seemed to be a symbol of change in my life. If it weren't for my experiences, I'd probably detest rain (because nothing creeps me out than seeing a zillion worms in the streets).

In China, when I was thirteen, it rained in the harbor of Hong Kong. It was during my last few days in China, and I remember running through the rain back to our hotel. This was the first time I developed my desire to travel. I don't remember much from this trip besides what I have in pictures. I think I was still to young to fully appreciate the history and culture, however I think that being there was one of the major stepping-stones of developing who I am today.

Hong Kong before the rain

During my freshman year of high school, my father suffered from a brain aneurysm. I often try to think back to this time of my life, and everything from those few months is jumbled. I was so worried about fitting in, and being asked to homecoming, wearing the right clothes, making new friends - typical fourteen-year-old things. This caused my worries for my dad and family to also get mixed in with trivial preoccupations. I thought I was so mature then, but I realize I was actually still too young to fully comprehend. After I came home from the hospital one night with my grandmother, we talked for a long time, and I remember a lot of "what if" questions. When I couldn't sleep, because of the rain, I went and sat on the bathroom floor (the only room with a lock) wondering how my life might change.

When I was sixteen, I was convinced to attend a Catholic Church camp. As I've stated before I'm not a completely devout religious person, however many of my friends have incredible faith, and I'm always interested and inspired by their continuous efforts to worship God, and share His values. As reluctant as I was, I had (what I consider) my first true encounter with God. It poured this day. I was outside, and we were instructed to pray for about an hour. The idea of "talking to myself" for an hour was daunting. However, I found the time raced by. At the end of my prayers I asked God three questions. Later, at reconciliation, I was talking with a visiting priest and confessing my sins (which I hadn't done in years). As I stood up to walk out the door, he stopped me. He asked me to close the door. He then sat me down, took my hands, looked into my eyes with incredible intensity and answered all three of my questions in order, and he spoke almost verbatim responses. It was still raining so many hours later.

The last day at DYMO (Catholic Camp)

Just last year as I spent my first week in Guatemala, my final day it rained. This trip was one that I believe forced me to change and grow during my first year of college. I was climbing down the volcano. It had just erupted a few days before, and so we had to take a newer route. Our group was a bit separated but my friend, Adam, and I stayed together. We eventually found this random hut on the volcano, and as it poured we took a break in the shed. We laughed and talked for a second before the rest of the group caught up. Climbing the mountain was my last activity in Guatemala, and it was a bittersweet ending to that trip, but beginning to a new outlook on life for me.

Hiking in the rain

The steam on the mountain from the rain hitting the hot ground. In some areas the lava was still visible.

I could go on describing moments where rain has symbolized change - my first heartbreak, first car accident, when my family moved for the first time, so many "firsts" and "lasts"... I'm not intending to pour my deepest darkest secrets out online, I just want to share the significance that rain has for me, and why I was inspired to write today. There's also a saying that if it rains on your wedding day it's good luck. I hope this is true because I can bet money that it will rain on mine. In fact, I hope it does.

In class we've been studying vocabulary about issues pertaining to injustice and overall human rights. I finally feel as if I have the ability to converse with people about relevant topics, which I'm very appreciative of. When I started off speaking in Granada I think I sounded like an intelligent four year old (if I was lucky). I wouldn't say I'm fluent by any means, but I can speak without thinking most of the time. My grammar might not be always correct considering I just learned future tense a week ago, but I've tried to work around my gaps in knowledge.

Last week I had the privilege of watching a Spanish movie titled, "Tambien La Lluvia," which means "even/also the rain." The movie was about the struggle for indigenous people of Bolivia to obtain water, and related the problems of people today to the problems of people during the time of Columbus, and how today there still exists groups of people without rights. (The title of this movie was ironic to me considering how everything has come together nicely in this past week. As I said in an earlier post no creo en las coincidencias.)

Scene from the movie

Today my teacher played a song for us by Mercedes Sosa, a famous singer from Argentina. The song is titled, "Duerme Negrito." It's a lullaby from the Caribbean. As I listened, I thought about my time in Guatemala. I feel extremely privileged to have had the opportunity to see two different places in "el mundo hispano." I hadn't thought much about the differences between my two different experiences. Honestly, I've spent most of my time attempting to live in the moment, and although this is a great thing, I am slightly disappointed in my lack of thought about this topic.

When I left Guatemala for the second time this past year, I felt especially passionate about human rights, and specifically access to heath care. Actually, my trip solidified the fact that I no longer wanted to be a doctor, as ironic as that sounds. I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life, I just know that I have greater interests than science, and I want to spend my time living rather than studying. I know that this might seem an overgeneralization, and I have so much respect for students who desire to be any sort of medical professional. I had an epiphany that it was no longer for me. Now, I hope to use this passion for "derechos humanos" in the future... in whatever way I can.

As she played this song a few times in class, I kept remembering the faces of the children in Guatemala: children who hadn’t seen a toothbrush in their lives, and ultimately had no teeth, children who were suffering from various parasites, children with a serious lack of nutrition. There's a statistic that states that families in Guatemala live off of 1 dollar (approximately seven quetzals a day). Can you imagine living off a dollar a day?

When I was there the first year, we had a ceremony at the end of our week in the medical clinic. We were broadcasted on local television and met the mayor of the city we were in. Each of us was called up one by one to receive awards. Before the ceremony I had two little girls run up to me, and each one grabbed my hand. At the time I spoke zero Spanish, but somehow I felt so connected to them. They'd been around the clinic throughout the week so I had recognized their faces. It felt like I had made a difference. That's all I've ever wanted to do. It was the most gratifying feeling in the world. It's funny how small memories can start so much change. Feeling that unending love and connection that we, as humans, share with each other is electrifying and contagious.

I went home today and listened to Mercedes Sosa's other song, her most famous. It's called, "Gracias a la Vida." I've been playing it on repeat for hours now. I feel extremely grateful for my opportunity to live in this wonderful city in Spain. I've continuously tried to truly live while I'm here. However, after this past week of thought and reflection, I'm in awe as to how much opportunity I have had not only here, but in all of my life. Being away from my true life, and beginning on a clean slate has made me grow to love my past mistakes and my current flaws, as well as hope to become someone honorable.

I turn twenty in about two months. Twenty is such a scary age to me. However, this past weekend I felt twenty, if that makes any sense. I've been saying to my friends for months, "I'm scared to turn twenty. I thought I'd have my shit together by now." I don't have anything together to be honest, and I probably wont ever have anything all together by the standards I would like. Yet, I feel older somehow. I feel that I'm ready to be twenty (Yes, I know twenty is still young). It's another stepping-stone. I don't feel scared anymore, and for someone who has lived her life completely safe and afraid of fear itself, this is a great thing.

When I was in high school I had someone tell me once that I was only fun during the summer because I took life too seriously during the school year. In fact, thinking back I took everything too seriously that sometimes I forgot to just be. I lived for the purpose of making it through another day. I didn't try to enjoy my days really, which seems selfish to me now. I don't regret the way I lived my life because I'll admit these habits are what have led me here today, and to become a successful student at Umich. He probably does not remember that he told me this perception of me, but I've never forgotten it. Ever since, I've had this saying in my head "be alive as if it were always summer." Sometimes I forget or I choose to revert back to my old, stressful habits. I think I've found that side of myself again as I've been here. I found her in Guatemala too - the summer side. I think this version of me is who I am, and everything else is just blockades that get in the way.

Sagrada Familia

Clinic in Guatemala

I used to say I feel most myself in other countries. I don't know if that's true. It isn't about where I am. It's about what I'm choosing to do, or whom I'm choosing to be. I like to think that there are many different sides to me, and honestly it has been exhausting picking and choosing how to live my life based on what other people want from me. Figuring out what matters, or rather who matters, has been a continuous struggle in my life, but I think Spain has solidified my thoughts for me.

Today was the first day I’ve missed home a bit. I’ve loved my anonymous (more or less) life here. Yet after thinking so much about my past and my future, I miss being rooted down. I miss having a purpose greater than myself. It’s been delightful being increbiley selfish for a bit of time, but I feel a bit out of place. I keep thinking about how much I want to share these sites, thoughts, and new knowledge I’ve attained with my friends and family. I’m not lonely, but I miss being needed. Overall, I feel incredibly thankful. It’s the most overwhelming feeling I think I’ve felt in awhile. I wish I was able to describe my thoughts and feelings more eleoquently. I am still processing, and perhaps that’s why I feel so scatterbrained. It’s as though I’m charged with a new energy, a passionate energy for all that life has to offer. I’ve been so safe for most of my life, and I finally feel like I’m truly happy. Now I hope I can use this euphoria for something much, much greater than myself.

If I could give any advice to future students I think overall, as a generalization "don't hold back." People say that "Life begins at the end of your comfort zone." I've found this to be true. I think that there's something to be said about "leaving it all on the stage" as dancers say. You never want to look back and say I wish I did this or that. I think the key is to tackle fear first, and fully dive in second.

Secondly, I'd say be adventurous. I love my alone time, truly. I think I can be both an introvert and an extrovert, and it all depends on what I'm feeling that day. It's okay to take a day now and then to study, but I've found that meeting new people or conversing in real life has improved my Spanish, and my confidence using Spanish, much more than studying my textbook continuously. Out of most people I know on this trip, I'd say I study the least. I'm getting a good grade (I think), and so I have no regrets about missing a point here, or a small thing there, because it was a sacrifice for experience. I've never turned down an opportunity here. Everything I've wanted to do, has been done, or will be done this week. In short, eat every croissant and every last croqueta on your plate.

I think something else to keep in mind is to be accepting. In my class alone, I think we have quite a mix of personalities, yet I consider myself friends with each person in the class. Obviously you'll always have people you connect with better, but I've found that everyone has a story, and people don't just come into your life without reason. Each person is placed in your life specifically to teach you something or show you something in a new light, no matter how big or small. This is an idea I always think about especially with host family placements, etc.

In smaller matters heres a list of things to do:
1. Go to tapas as often as possible
2. Accept the existence of siesta
3. Work ahead on your homework - you'll want to have fun later
4. Cook a meal for your family
5. Meet locals
6. Explore by yourself
7. Take time to think about your life in Spain
8. Take time to think about your life in the United States
9. Live in the moment
10. Most importantly, drink as much Sangria as possible (or Tinto because that's good too)

Things not to do are a bit harder to come up with. I guess I'd have to say:
1. Don't be loud in public. Ever. (Unless on Pedro Antonio at 2am)
2. Don't wear sweats. Ever. (Unless going to the gym)
3. Don't ask for directions if you don't know how to ask questions in Spanish (Unless you know have proper grammar)
4. Don't mix up the words for genitals and drawer (I did this the first week, but didn't realize it till a week later when this topic was brought up in class. Oops.)
5. Don't wear heels if you're tall
6. Don't go to Zara unless you have an unlimited bank account
7. Don't leave anything plugged in during the day because it's a waste of energy
8. Don't eat anything with eyes
9. Don't listen to all of the stereotypes
10. Don't forget who you are and where you came from and what you would like to accomplish

Usually when I can’t process my own crazy mind, I turn to music. It has never let me down. I think this song by Mercedes Sona describes my emotion about Granada and my time here better than a thousand of my own words could: