The Scavenger Hunt

I am all packed, so I suppose there is some finality in that, eh? Or at least enough for me to take the time to reasses and see where my head and heart are as of now with eyes cast backwards.


Well, I came here with quite possibly the most romanticized image of Europe/Spain ever. Which is wonderful. I often find and found myself lugging a skillfully packed suitcase, confidently eyeing over a map unafraid reflecting on the image of me in September, shaking I was so nervous, praying more fervently than I ever had, constantly checking for my wallet and barely holding the reins on my nerves. I think about the wide-eyed, untraveled excitement that flew out the train window and brought tears to my eyes riding through Southern France and how I touristed and was enchanted by Paris (love at first sight). I will never have her back.


I know that through this trip, I have gained so much. I am much more confident and competent. God and I communicate and I trust in what He says. I am beginning a life-time journey of exploring the parts of the world, of individuals, of culture that are so small, and so intricate, and attempting to understand what makes all it click together perfectly. I realise much more of who I am, what I want and where I come from, but have more drive and fire than ever to pursue my individual path inextricably woven with the lives and world's of others. I am on a search for home in a million places and am un-daunted by the thought of traversing the globe with a passport and youth to find it everywhere in little ways and construct or discover the secrets of my own soul.


I keep finding parts of myself in these places, I know, ridiculous - she spends a few days in Paris/Amsterdam and she is enlightened. But hear me out...


I did not like Barcelona as a whole. I love a lot about the city and have been beyond blessed to be here, but the city itself never got comfortable for me, it was always a bit on the itchy side and in many ways I felt out of place. Especially in my dorm, none of these faces became friends here. Outside of my relationship with Laura, Najeda and a few others, I kept my ties to Barcelona pretty minimal.


The scenery, yes I was moved by art and archictecture, but honestly, I never felt the warmth from people or a connection to them which I believe is absolutely central to loving a place past the first few honeymoon weeks of glee with the new. I never got over feeling shaky and helpless every time I saw a beggar. I never could get into the late night life and the proper eating times. Barcelona stayed on the surface of my skin.


But. Without a shadow of a doubt, my confidence was here. My independence. The fuel to my fire for what sort of life I want to lead. Never did I imagine that I would fall so in love with travel. That I would meet people from 10 different countries and sleep in their beds and eat their foods and share their lives.


Never ever ever did I imagine that I would spend ANOTHER semester abroad, that I would write a million letters and e-mails to make it possible. That I would be planning to travel to East Africa this summer. That the thought wouldn't daunt me to the point of meekness. My confidence, my globality was waiting here in Barcelona for me to come and pick it up. No where to be seen is the meek little girl who was terrified to walk to a store by herself, anxiously looking for Kapy and lost without a mobile phone. I am not the woman who came here. Fact.


I like to think of things like this. I like the thought that I am on a life long scavengar hunt to uncover aspects of my soul and to serve God. I like that I realise more about Love, that I was able to see His spirit embodied in so many ways I never would have predicted or imagined. I like that I want things I never thought I would and understand things that I never even considered before.



I like that I had time to rest (truly, completely, physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally), that I saw beauty like I never imagined. I like that I learned to budget (I have an entirely new view on money and necessity and waste) and learned a lot more empathy. I like that I learned to appreciate little things and quiet space and let go (even more) of my emphasis on the unimportant (grade point average?)



I like that I saw new sides of people I loved. That I lost some of my closest bonds and was emotionally ravaged by it. I like that I had the chance to breathe Barcelona's air with The One I Love Most in the World and give him context for the stories I will tell and hopefully add another beautiful, perfect memory to our growing collection for years to come. I like that I spent more time speaking to myself and to Him than any individual. I like that.


So in the end, my eyes have been opened. And I have successfully retrieved an aspect of myself from Barcelona and I will keep going, keep searching and keep exploring (hopefully) until I die. The possibilities are endless. I do not want this trip to be something I file like a scrapbook as the memories and pictures become dimmer and dimmer. I want it to be the beginning of a sentece that will never be ...


Thanks for Tuning In.

With Love,


Jza

I am In-Between.

Currently I am inbetween, in this partly cloudy state of mind. Rays of sunshine though. I'm also inbetweensies even further because right now I am recovering from a weekend of breath and relaxation with the One I Love Most in the World, and as all things have an equal and opposite reaction -- I have quite a bit of work to catch up on. Essays. Life. Whatnot. Blargh.

But you're not interested in that are you? Wouldn't you much prefer to hear from the moment he stepped of the plane and my stomach was in nervous little knots of joy. And I spotted him across the room and almost, slightly didn't recognize him with the mess of blonde hair he now has that is quite long. And I ran over, and my heart leapt and I kissed him all over his exhausted face?



And then, he got very sick for the first night, and was a little bundle of fever but a trooper none the less. We got to spend so much time talking, and holding and kissing and it felt like wholeness.

Then, we did some exploring and eating and more cuddling that I won't make you suffer through. Suffice to say having my heart back is a beautiful thing. And the lovely lights throughout the city danced inside my head and soul promising me that forever would come and go and I would never forget being with the man of my dreams at 20 and in love.

Thanksgiving was a fiasco! Let me tell you about it. If you know JT you know he doesn't own many dress clothes, but I convinced him to bring some because Kapy's mom actually got a letter of recommendation in order for us to have a gorgeous dinner at the Yale Club here in Barcelona. So JT brings his version of dress clothes (no tie, shortsleeved dress shirt under a floppy brown blazer and some tan curdorys and vans) They didn't let him in. So there we are, in the poshest place in Barcelona (which is deserted but huge and Versaille like with tapestries and thick carpets and huge paintings and jeesh -- the nicest place I've ever eaten by far.)

So in a slightly flustered state, after the woman in true Catalan fashion, coldly lays down the rule in a cruel tone, we don't know what to do. To the rescue, Max (Kapy's s-dad) pulls out a wad of cash like a superhero and despite our protest, insists that we go and buy some shoes for my 6'2" 12 year old.

So we run outside, and I'm near tears, and it starts to rain. When we finally make it to the only open place in Barcelona at that hour for shoes in the swankest area: Corte Ingles (ew.) In we go -- and run up 2 of the million escalators in the labryinth of a department hellhole. More unhelpfulness from the staff and when we do find shoes -- they are all designer and way beyond the price range. So we finally find the cheapest pair and they eye JT's size 13.5 with a kinda scoff -- no one is that big in Spain I'm convinved -- and they convert it to something ridiculous like 50 in European sizes and all the while Just Tranquil JT is softly rubbing my back and telling me not to worry.

The man comes back and we slip into the shoes and run out the door as the place is closing.

We take a taxi back and walk in the door where we are shown upstairs to the bar/smoking room where the group is waiting (Max, Pam, Kapy and Stewart). They were all absolute brilliantly kind and patient throughout, Max and Stew even banded together saying they would take their pants off if JT wasn't allowed in. For the sake of the Catalan stuck-ups own good manners and decency, I'm glad they let my boy in.

Max was even sweet enough to lend JT a tie Kapy's mom insisted (intelligently) on bringing. We had a delicious dinner, here's the kicker, with ONE other family. The place was pretty much just us, which made them being difficult even more irritating, despite the fact that I know they have to maintain standards of decency and selectiveness and all of that.

We ended up eating so so so so well and after a few delicous bottles of red wine, a dancing turkey was pulled out of Pam's wonderful purse of dreams and it began to dance and sing on the center of the table much to the chagrin of the staff.

We also were each given chocolate turkeys and Kapy and I got matching necklaces. We went up to the gorgeous bar to smoke hang out more and it was just a delectable experience altogether.

It really was great.

It's so weird because I am in this weird inbetweeny point. I absolutely loved the experience of JT here and I am ready to come home and trying to organize New Zealand all at the same time.

It's life, man.

It's so so so big.
And so so so much less complicated and more complicate and intricate and easy as breathing.

Going to Quatre Gats with JT and seeing the look in his eye.
Holding him close and hearing his heart.
Laughing out loud at dinner.
Great conversation.
Doggy bag of paella.
Making dinner.
JT's body hot as a furnace with fever.
Crying and sending him off to the plane.
Praying for all things good and all things wonderful and all things bright and beautiful.

Dropping the Ball, Jza. Dropping the Ball....

So I gotta take advice from Trey and "get my head in the game." To give you the long, boring blablabla in one word: busy.

But.

On to the beauty! Where did we leave off? Right before Jo arrived? Great. This is pinnacle moment. Jozanne arrived and my head and heart were in the sky. My being away from lovely, frustrating Cataluyna so much has made it difficult for me to feel rooted here. In fact, there is so much I dislike about the city, which I don't mean to say it's not beautiful, but I don't like it. So in part, my lack of preparation, my exhaustion and frazzledness translate to immediately strained affairs between Jo and I. There was definitely a feeling of rubbing two opposing materials together, because Jo and I -- different birds, same nest. So similar enough to want the closeness and strange enough to be set back. You know? But after I took my head from my own rear end, we were able to make progress and actually got a kick out of jesting about the things that make me uncomfortable here: my inability to enjoy the infamous nightlife that is one of Barca's main draws, the overpriced, yucky food, famous Catalan coldness and tempers, and many other little things. In the end, we ended up in Paris, gray and glistening and think went through a painful, transition that ended up with us on the threshold of a new stage of our relationship. Exciting, no?


Versaille was singular and breathtaking, and Koons exhibit there was alternately obnoxious and coy, but all in all, I was breathlessly impressed and giggling at the Erotic museum and touring around the chilly city, watching fog nestling the Seine with my lovely sis was a memory I never will forget. One for the lifetime awards.



When I got back, I caught up with SARAH SMITH! Yea! Sarah Smith is proof that time and distance don't affect love if you want it badly enough. And man, we both want it, I love that girl like it's my job, but we have the grace of a relationship that ebbs and flows with such beauty that it is as natural as breathing. Right from Paris, I was greeted by her lovely blue, bright eyes, and I proceeded to try once again to show the lovely sides of Barcelona.



It was awesome and relaxing and I love love love how Sarah accepts me with the calm and cool that is absolute trademark Sa. Smith. Once again, I felt distracted and emotionally off kilter, so I wanted to kick myself for not giving her the joyous Janelle...but I think she didn't resent me for it.

This time was pretty tough for me emotionally, having trouble fitting in the dormitory because of the time I spend away from it, language issues, missing home and friend troubles. Realising that change taking place thousands of miles away still hurt as if they are right in your face. But once again, I found that I was forgetting the root of it all, and with some help from my friend (hey! I get by with a little help from my friends!) and a heckalot of prayer, I feel relieved.

This weekend was a trip to Amdam. All in all, the trip wasn't something I'd repeat but wonderful. The train situation was hellish, and I am broke beyond belief now because of mistakes the train made. The trains we needed to connect back to Barca were running late, and the man decided not to even TELL us this fact, so after bustling around, losing our minds, we ended up having to book a last minute flight. Genius. And the city was hailing and f-f-freezing. I mean, terribly so. And Kapy and I got trapped outside, huddled and brain muddled just wanting to be warm and curled up with some stroopwaffles.


But onto the good stuff: it was gorgeous. If you've heard about the drug scene in Amdam you've only heard part of the story. It's all canals and old, beautiful buildings. Remarakably clean and unique. It was my first Scandinavianish country, and it was a delight. The people were sweet as pie and twice as useful and helpful. It just was a wonder. Plus our adorable Texan hostess told us about how she feel in love with Amdam, moved there after college and works as an au pair: they pay for her housing, travel and visa fees -- she lives in Amdam and loves life and plays with children all day.


In other news, we got home and I hunched over the computer to get work done. I want my mind to be clear and my spirites to be high when JT arrives. I can not wait. He will be here ... tomorrow.



No words.

But all is well, if ever-changing and confusing and new and exciting.

I am currently in the works of trying to figure out a few things that the bible says I shouldn't discuss, but always can use prayers for guidance and for, hopefully, being able to have the proper base for what I do.

But that is me as of now.
In a condensed shortened super secret bloggy way.

Yours,

Janelle

And...All Around the Place!

So!

It all began with me getting the best gift ever: a Eurail pass. And then came the planning that took weeks and revisions and all that goodness. Kapy being the peach she is trusted me enough (Lord knows why) to go all in and buy a Eurail too in full faith of my super sneaky secret planning abilities.

This trip was a PAIN because I will tell you a secret: it is HARD to get to Greece from Barca. But with a week and some patience and a lot of God it got all together in an affordable, plausible, enjoyable way.

We started off with NO tickets. Not a single one. Because after they set that pike on the West Coast and rang the bell progress with trains literally came to a screeching halt on the tracks of progress. Most tickets, especially with a Eurail, you have to book in person in the country you are traveling too. En serio. So basically, we had a ticket from Montpellier - Barca and vice-versa.

Fun.

But I decided to give that lily thing a try and coincidentally we made every train, ferry and transfer we needed until the last day. Unbelievable right? Especially when I start telling you how all over we were.

First night to Geneva which is a city all unto itself. I mean, Switzerland blows my mind. It is the image of progress, puncuality, beauty and democracy. Did you know that they vote on any ammendant that gets a petition supported by 5,000 people? Isn't that B.A.? On the train over, we encountered an amazing man from Dubai who bought us a drink because we both only had standing room on the train and were just chilling. He told us about home, we traded stories and just had a swell time. He was so genuinely kind and awesome. I got a real kick whilst he was describing arranged marriages because I knew how much my family and mother would love to arrange my marriage. All in all, it was not only fun and enjoyable but enriching. I didn't realise how little I knew about Dubai!

When we got into Switzerland it was chilly but lovely, all lights and water and huge, clean buildings. Our hostess, Nadia, was a doll! She was 24, took us out, had the cutest kitten (Ginger who I almost shoved in my backpack but it was too stuffed) and informed us all about Switzerland and Geneva while we ate genuinely delicious fondue and drank wine. It was friggin awesome, but as eyes drooped we regretted not having more time to chill in the city that has giant chessboards. Oh dear lord so cool.



We got up bright and early and were off to Venice, from Venice, right onto a ferry which might sound sketchy but I will tell you that going from Venice to Patras Greece is possibly for 15 euros with a eurrail pass and when they say ferry they really mean cruise: arcade, casino, pool, restaurants, stores. We once again encountered really legit people by chance who walked by. Claire (who I didn't know was Claire at the time) had a rogue hat on and I cast her an awkward Janelle Hi you're young and so are we smile and when we got on board we were sleeping on the floor together so the rest is history! But it was pretty cool. I mean, as unlegit as I look with my awesome Swiss Pink backpack, pink blanket, hand santesizer dangling from my bag and hot pink neck pillow, I am definitely getting into the rhythm of meeting people, rushing for trains and showering less than some people may be comfortable with me admitting. (see Claire in Rogue Hat below)



I kept finding myself thanking my Mom for all the things she taught me and gave me. The shoes and all the goodies!

But back on point. The views out of Venice and into Greece were life-changing. I mean, the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever encountered...ever.... More than I could dream.

We were stoked to get in, jumped on a bus to Athens and checked in with Eva. Our hostess there. She gave us her bed and slept on the floor and I think I took my Euro-awkward kiss hug greeting over her comfort zone. But beside that we ran out the door to do the touristy thing (Acropolis and whatnot) which was cool cool cool but admittedly not my favourite thing I've done. We got back in, listened to her music and talked to her about regional idenity and corruption in the Greek culture. Always interesting. Really. (I spy with my little eye, wee Janelle!)



The next day was Greece as I dreamt it. We went on a cruise to 3 islands with so many tourists they had to do every annoucement in about 10 languages.



Hydra was all blue and white and beautiful and I stripped down and jumped into the Meditarrean which was cool and cleansing. Finally getting that baptism of mine. It was ... spectacular, moving and emotional. I loved Hydra.

The second island, Poros, we weren't on for long, but Kapy and I sunning got mistaken for Brasilneras which always makes my life. After hopping back on the boat: Aegina.



In Aegina, we walked, wandered, ate and had another wonderful human encounter. By chance we walked past a group of older people gathered and they asked about where we were from with genuine interest. We ended coming back through (after I searched for a worry stone on the beach for you Mommy! Got one!) and they invited us for a bite and a drink. We refused until they insisted and they sat down, like the poor, outgoing college students we are. The wine was delicious. Made across the street and after political debates and laughs and a wonderful time we had to rush back to the ship and into the sunset. How dramatic!



We got in exhausted, the sun golden and rose setting into clouds hovering over green mountain tops... full and loving life.

We spent the next day finishing up what we could in Athens and then hopped over to what was expected to be the anti-climax: Patras, Greece.

Boy were we mistaked. From jump, Odisseas, our host, was amazing. He made us comfortable, we chatted (he's right around our age -- 22 and his sister, Anastacia is 18) and his apartmento was SICK. So he gave a tour, suggestions, offered his kitchen, shower and computer and we talked for ever and ever. Seriously, within the hour we were like close friends.

That night I tasted Greek food for the first time, and since the day before was No Day for the Greek ( a holiday hailing the saying NO to Nazis!) his sister had gone home and come back with Mommy and Grandmommy food from SPARTA (which is where he is from by the way...he is a SPARTAN!) And he stuffed us to the brim with some of the most deliciously wonderful mouthwatering goodness your brain can conceive.

Oh my god.

When we asked how to repay his generosity he just said: cook for me tomorrow.

So we mulled over what we could cook while we listened to him play the beatles and APC and everything else I love and sing in his gorgeous voice and we swayed drinking a bit of Ouso. Afterwards we went out a bit, saw the sun over water and a few sites but mostly just chatted and loved life.

The next day was even better, I got up early and shared tea with him and discussed life and love and all that beauty. I was delighted at how similar we were. I mean, honestly, even in the States it's hard for me to find people who say my thoughts like he did. We love music (pretty much all the same) the same way and with the same intensity. He showed me videos, loaded my iPod with his new music suggesitons and then we just chilled more.

The night before I dreamt that we should try to cook my favourite dish: sausage, beans and rice with apples. Unsure if it was plausible, we decided to go for it. We ran to the store, and a nice man who spoke English helped us find things and ordered feta and everything. After some time all went well. Miraculously, the delicious dish of my Mommy came to life and it was perfect. A genuinely American dish (home-cooked, down-home, New O'leans cuisine!) and there was SO much. We ate on the deck and were just so satisified and happy and oh!



Mom would've been proud.

We didn't want to leave, but when we had to we had to. It was a tough goodbye but we swore to stay in touch and I plan to stick to that!

He and his soft-voiced, curly-headed, beautiful sister were amazing. And another plus mark for couch-surfing which just keeps changing my life!

From Patras it was back on the cruise where Kapy and I dressed up like superheroes (i.e. sillypants) for Halloween. I was feeling down at this point, tired and sad and missing home and my baby so I didn't want to get dressed. But when a little girl dressed up like a cat came by we decided to inform him we'd love to trick or treat for his daughter. I found him in line, told him our proposition and Andrew got candy. After we fawned over how precious she was (the little British girl -- Katie -- goes with her parents all around the world in their ship!) and then we talked to her father for ever. It was so so so cool. And yet again we got political and just introspective in a way that I haven't been able to do in the same way ever before.



The rest of the trip passed pretty well, and we rushed through Venice which was swollen high and perfect from the rain. It is the most singular city in the world and I plan to go back with my lover and see it properly. It was stunning. So stunning. And seeing beautiful Italians in boots up to their thighs walking to work/class is amazing. The colours are what make the city look more alive and more art-like than anything else.


Onto the train. Rushing to Nice. Getting into Nice. Eating. Falling asleep -- exhausted.

And the next morning -- train difficulties. But after so much wonder -- who cares? On to 15 hours of trains and back here to Barca.

Soul full. Mind satiated. Charmed by the people of the world and the world itself.

All the love,

Jza

Here's My Thing...

I know I have issues with faith -- hyper-critical, infinitely flawed, self-centered jerk that I am.

Every single day is a bit of a cycle of disappointment with myself. I am so introverted. So worried and anxious all the while telling myself on the surface level that it is in His hands while wringing my own over the most trivial things. Trivial things like: money, time, grades, friends, family, life, death, love, war, faminine.

Now don't get me wrong.

I am not saying that these things don't matter. But worry, to me, the anxiety-proned mess, is a constant reminder of my flawed faith. Of the fact that I think that somehow turning my stomach and rushing about will do more and be worth more than knowing that everything (absolutely and entirely) will be made right by Him if I base my life there. If I go first to Him and second to my thoughts and actions. That there is nothing that I can do even resembling good without it being through Him.

If every single step is based in the Lord, if every direction, every up and down and inbetween is nothing. That I only have to exists is God (I mean I have a holy spirit bird on my foot for this very purpose and I often find myself admiring it for all of the wrong reasons...)

I just need to remind myself of this.
To internalize it.
To try to make it real and tangible.

To believe it.

To not forget.

Pray for me?

Relatively Relaxed in Madrid and Lisbon

After the insanity of running around pscyho-loca in Paris, this weekend was a pleasant surprise.

We moseyed over to Madrid, Wednesday, met up with Adorably Awesome Ana (our couch surfer for the night) and museumed, ate and sat in parks. Which was fantastic.

Once again, the contemporary art museum took the cake for me, leading me to believe that I may, very well, be into contemporary art! Whoddaknewit?

But mostly I loved not having to rush around, being around amazingly loving people and relaxing in lovely parks. The leaves turning were no Appalachian Autumn, but they were falling and bright yellows and oranges...

Now I am in Lisbon, which has awesome things to offer, but I'm waiting in my absolutely sick hostel (Living Lounge -- very artsy, clean and modern and cheap if you visit here -- my first hosteling experience!) for my travel buddies to wake up.

I have a ton of work to do before Greece and such but right now I am just trying to enjoy the fact that in 3 weeks I'm hitting:

Marseille, Montpellier, Paris, Madrid, Lisbon, Nice, Geneva, Milan, Venice, Patra, Athens.

Fan-friggin-tasty.

Too bad I'm missing Ani though in Barca. Not like I had the bank to throw down for her lovely self.

I hope you are well!

Janelle

Death.

I just realised (like in Dandelion Wine) that I am suffering from, and will die from an utterly incurable terminal illness called Living.

I will be taken unexpectedly. I do not know if it will be painful or peaceful. I have no time line to arrange my will or to prepare myself. I can't plan when to fulfill all my dreams and desires.

Today's the day.

The only thing left to do (since I have progressed from my outrage and disbelief stages) is to accept that I can make my uncertain number of days, weeks, years, seconds here aware and bright.

Friend, in illness, friend's in life. I'm not afraid to die but I would very much so like to live. Even if it will kill me.

3 Girls, 3 Couches, 3 Frites and 3 Strip Clubs: The City of Lights

So Paris is amazing. I mean I wish there was a word for how amazing and wonderful it is...but frankly there just isn't. I don't think I have ever been as pleased for life through travel before. Breathtaking.

The bike tour was a lovely adventure and our wonderfully adorably small group (6) was able to get acquainted with the city over 4 hours and to chat up the pretty cute guy who started the company with his best friend after quitting a marketing job. Sweet.

The train (by the way) was a fantastic mode of transportation -- lovely views, bags of food, good conversations and sun rises.



But back on point, after the tour we went to D'Orsay (so paletable, especially compared to the Louvre...) and had all that impressionistically wonderful art that makes me think of my mother and grandmother.

We had delicious (cheap! -- compared to Barca!) food. And I felt full and satisified and ahhhh! The food! The bread... Wandering around was so amazing. I feel like I have an entirely new concept of beauty now...



Also, the entire trip we couch-surfed.

The first night, we met up with Florie and she was a DOLL. I mean, a doll...she had to run to Tai Chi and we wandered, got some frites, and a bottle of wine (and finally an opener! the wonderful French man in the store helped us translate ourselves with sound effects and hand motions :) And then we sat down and out of no where I had my first view of that little ol' famous landmark they were planning to tear down right after the World Fair... and it was twinkling. I literally gasped.

The fun thing is, that couch surfing took us away from central Paris. We were able to wander and listen to french and even try our hand at a bit ourselves.



I was amazed at how wonderfully patient and helpful and kind people were after prepping myself for the infamous Parisian cruelty. Honestly: we just didn't see it. People were nicer there to us than anywhere I've ever been. At one point, a woman came over without any prompting from us (we're convinced she was an angel) came over and navigated us through a complex exchange we had to do (2 trains, a bus, a metro...all outside of the city to get to Clarisse -- our next couch) and goodness....when I mean navigate she basically held our hand. Walked us to the station we'd never have found...took us to the machine, pushed the buttons took us to the platforms and waited for us to get on. All without a word comphrensibly passed between the two of us...

When we got to the station, there was a mini-panic because Clarisse was stuck in traffic and we were outside of the city, at night, with all our valuables in a strange place. But as the theme of the trip: God provided and kept us safe and got us to Clarisse's. We stayed in with her (she is a gorgeous, kind, infinitely chill woman) and she not only picked us up, made us a bed, offered us her computer, highlighted our maps, cooked us dinner (fries and chicken with delicious juice) but she let us call our mommies, daddies and JT as well. It was heaven.

We got up bright and early the next day and went on the whirlwind tour of France. We headed over to Lillie's place around 5.30 which is good because we got so lost and wandered about on beautiful foggie Parisian streets for a good hour until we took a taxi to the street where the sign had fallen off. Lillie was a precious creature with a delicate accent and huge eyes and a smile that made you. We gave her kisses, dropped our bags and ran out to catch up with Maggie for our pre-arranged 9am meeting that we were now desperately late to.



When we got there 30 minutes late, we were distraught to see no Maggie...so we wandered around, went in the Louvre and after a lot of effort decided to art-it a bit. I saw all that stuff I'm supposed to, got the feeling of how the Louvre can make you feel sick unless you have the time to savour it (like a very rich dessert?) and we got lost.

Frustrated with our terrible sense of direction, we wandered outside and got in line again, sweeping for Maggie one more time...and we're in line, a bit frazzled and sad when we hear her voice. Out of all million people in line for the Louvre -- she is right behind us. I get chills. Thank Yeshua for hearing my prayers for her...(she had NO phone and if we didn't meet we had no backup plan)...and she runs over and sobs and tells us her amazing story of frazzledness and Parisian kindness.

Just a touch about her story, a flamboyantly wonderful man saw her start sobbing in the street, swept her away with a "Love Love don't cry" and a few hugs and comfort and walked her to the station, gave her tickets because she was out of money and even money to call us from a payphone. God at work in mysterious, and wonderful ways no?

So we are overjoyed, wander the Louvre, peace out after a bit and go to the Petit Palais. And the exhibit is stunning. After Champs Elysee. Share crepes. Peer around and go to the Rodin musee which is -- boo -- closed. But the garden isn't. And lovely human beings are kissing and running their children around and I fall in love and miss JT like my heart is breaking. And then it's off to Napoleon's HUGE tomb. To the (closed) Picasso and then in another stroke of wonderous fate decide as a ditch to go to the Modern Art Museum -- my favourite.

The Modern Art Museum is so open -- so different -- so practical. It is paletable and spacious and un-crowded. The views are fabulous. Parisians chill outside with wine and be awesome. The museum is interactive and huge and wonderful and playful and thought-provoking. The works are explained in english and I really came out delighted.

After -- as the sun is setting we head to Montmarte. WOW! Is all I can say. It was a fabulous choice...with the rows and rows of wine and cheese being sold we grabbed a cheap bottle (our second cheap bottle -- did I mention we got one earlier?) and sat down with a pipe and music and lights and view that rocks socks and the church behind us and people chattering and loving eachother in all sorts of languages. And we just talk and smoke and breathe.

After we head to the Moulin Rouge -- overpriced -- so we go to three strip clubs for free as the only girls. Have a hilarously wonderful time and I'd be lying to say that I didn't do a little something on an empty pole.

Then to the Eiffey Tower. Some food split on the way (more yummy and we're dying of joy) and then we see it. All lit and blue. And just wander. Oh my!



Yes it is large. And by the way. The Mona Lisa isn't that small it's just not gargantum...or large even. And cool story: did you know that Paris was supposed to be leveled because before retreating Hitler placed dynamite under the city and ordered his general to destroy the city because "If I can't have it no one can have Paris" and a wonderful man convinced the general not to do it!

Cool, eh?

Now. Notre Dame was a let down for me. I can see why the revolutionaries wanted to tear it down brick by brick. It's hard for me to feel God in a place that feels so contradictory. It is what worries me about the chruch in every way. What I pray to understand.

But everyone was just so kind. So heartfelt and helpful. Everyone we asked for directions gave them with a smile and indulged our pathetic attempts at French. It was lovely in a way...a way that ... oh goodness.

But it was whaat I needed.

So much so. And I thank God for holding it all together so carefully and gently where so much could've gone wrong. He was there. All the time. I'm overjoyed. And on the train to Marseille I cried and read and listened to music and watched the sun rise and felt whole and at peace.

And all is well in my world.

Let Me Let You In On A Secret...

... studying abroad is great. I´m sure of it. Even though right now I just am NOT feeling it. There´s something that feels strangely similar to drownding here, occasionally (or sometimes more often than occasionally).

It´s this desperate, choking need to get your point across. To understand. To be understood and properly represented in pathetic, second-grade level Castalleno. It´s getting frustrated with yourself and the environment for being so foreign. For your inadequacies. For wanting a stupid cold glass of milk so bad. For wanting to kiss the man you love on the forehead and to be able to call and tell your mom you´re overwhelmed. I mean it isn´t always choking, but I´d feel like a terrible liar to tell you that sometimes it isn´t.

For instance, this last week has been strangely akin to emotional hell. And here´s the worst part -- I´m not sure why. Now. I am feeling distinctly better (which gives me the energy to write) but I´m still off...so bear with me without judging, hm?

So. There´s the cycle of adjustment -- some people are better at it than others, si? And anyone who knows me, knows which group of humans I fit into. But I don´t feel that I was prepared for how truly shocking culture shock can be, especially in a culture that pretty much has all of the comforts and advantages of home, not to mention more than enough of its own comforts that home lacks.

But it´s wrapped up in little things. Being torn in the oddest ways: I want to meet Spanish kids. I want to make Spanish friends. I want to speak Castalleno. I want to learn about Spain. But goddamn, it´s so much harder than you would imagine. When I try to explain the details of the day, it´s an exhausting and frustrating task. I NEVER have the words I want to use, so I have to resort to infuriatingly inappropriate ones...and vice versa. We speak eachother´s language but only to a point. It´s a surface knowledge...the intricacies are hard to get across. So so very hard.

And then there´s the fact that we live two separate lives. Everytime I go to the cafeteria I´m filled with the elementary-school dread of finding a place to sit. Past the introductory ¨hola¨ I do my best to scarf my food and try to understand the rapid-fire exchanges that are taking place on all sides. My head hurts by the end of the day. I want to cry from feeling so inadequate and ignorant.

And then there are the moments where the effort is just too much on one or both sides. Where people will just pretend I´m invisible altogether, avoid eye contact and not even bother to try to acknowledge my existence. Not that I blame them...I mean after a long day the last thing you want to do is to speak like an idiot to someone who just wants to feel included or wanted.

And don´t get me wrong, I have had great interactions with people. I´ve gone out and had wonderful times...but it´s fewer and further between than I expected. I just was not ready for it.

Tomorrow I go to Paris. Hopefully not speaking any French will give me an appreciation for the little bit of Spanish I speak and understand. I don´t know. I´m just trying to stay positive...but sometimes, when you´re gasping for air, keeping a bright outlook is the furthest thing from your mind.

Current State: I just want to go home.

(this too shall pass)

-Janelle

What Joy of Joys!

Beauty of beauties! Ah the city and feeling alive in it for the first time since I have arrived. Feeling so much a part of the wonder of it all. Of the awe-inspiring, breathless beauty of God. Loving these moments in a way I have never felt, save for on stage and in love with JT.

And in such a different way. Solitary and stronger than I knew I was! Seeing shifts occur in me. Becoming more independent and yet more dependent and trusting of Him. Being brought to tears. Appreciation the ease of conversations and the challenge of a new tongue. Appreciating finding wonderful little nooks in crannies inside of this huge, daunting world. Walking down the streets, looking up. Surrounded.

Last night, the punk concert, rocking out and nearly moshing. Laura's sister on the keyboard, bring the keys to life with a pursed look of determined self-assuredness that I envy in most Spanish women I see... The goofiness of the night, the abandon. Soberly enjoying -- vividness and youth!

And then today. Walking to Placa Espanya. Seeing Barcelona for the first time. The strength. Her beauty. Her uniqueness. The Caixa Forum. Maternitats. Women in shambles, holding together themselves, then:

"this is a series which has shown me that, evn in the most terrible situations, there always exists something higher than us, something whose beauty can move us."

Being shaken by those words, having them come alive. Feeling them around me and inside me.

Does that make sense?

And then onto women in another way: Alphonse Mucha. How beautiful! How stunning! How intricate! How ethereal!

The represenation and obssesion with grace. Drawing away with crowns with two new friends. Moved again! Unbelievably shaken and light...

Then grace and god, oddly seeing less divine in these than the other too, but lovely nonetheless.

Still tasting Bali Tea (I only wanted to taste rose petals, to say I had tasted them -- who new that vanilla, black tea and rose petals could taste like heaven!) And salmon. Splurging a bit because the exhibit was free, and because I wanted to taste rose petals, as I have said and explained previously.

Conversations and heart to hearts. Finding a place where I don't feel awkward. Determined to explore more gems of Barcelona like this!

Walking to Canuda. Asking for directions. Watching the debates. Registering to vote a third time. Engaged and alive. In Barcelona (One of Zapatero's cities, Dear McCain...). Twenty! Gearing up for my first vote. The world at my fingertips. Bending its self towards me with welcoming open arms.

Fantastic.

And shouts from outside, navigating the metro seamlessly. Conversing along the way -- in castalleno. In english.

And little cats who are too scared to come close, but who you extend food to anyway. Leaving it a safe distance away...Their decision.

In love. With all of this. With my youth. With You. With you. With life. And beauty. And friendships. And crayons. And sunny days with a cool breeze. And democrats abroad who still love their country so.

What Joy of Joys!

Un mundo diferente...

Es difícil explicar sobre las diferencias entre la cultura de España y EEUU. Vale? Hay muchas cosas no entiendo y muchas otras cosas de la historia y lengua y gobierno de España solamente se un poco sobre...

(It is dificult to explain about the difference between the culture of Spain and the US. Yes? There are many things I do not understrand and many other things of the history and language and government that of Spain that I only know a little about.)

Cataluña es un lugar interesante. Este semana es un semana importante, pienso: La Merce Festival es 24 de Septiembre. Hay fiestas y otras cosas todos los días de la esta semana.

(Cataluyna is an interesting place. This week is an imporant week, I think: The Merce Festival is the 24th of September. There are many parties and other things every day of this week.)

También, espero que es posible encontrar personas y no necesito beber alcohol. La lengua es una problema por yo, porque en un otra lengua es IMPOSIBLE comunicar tu misma, vale? Yo entiendo NUNCA y siento tanta todo el tiempo, vale? Ay. Siento si estoy tanta!

(Also, I hope that it is possible to meet people and not need to drink alcohol. The language is a problem for me, because in another language it is IMPOSSIBLE to communicate yourself, yes? I understand nothing and feel dumb all of the time, yes? Ay. I feel like I am an idiot.)

Pero, anoche fue "hazed"a mejores, pero -- ESTOY VEINTE ANOS. Pero, es un cosa buena que incluido yo en el evento. Si? Pero, estoy cansada y nerviosa y quiero amigos pero es difícil para mi...

(But, last night we were "hazed" with everyone but I am 20 years old. But it is a good thing that they included me in the even. Yes? But, I am tired and nervous and want firends, but it is difficult for me.)

Un noche muy difícil.

(A very difficult night)

Siento Yeshua en todas las cosas hizo.

(I feel Yeshua in all things I do.)

El es en todo yo veo.

(He is in all things I see.)

Es la cosa de paz y contento en mi corazón.

(He is the thing of peace and calm in my heart.)

I miss JT.

I miss home embodied in people. I miss eloquency. A command of culture and words. I miss certain foods.

Pero, estoy feliz aqui. Me gusta que estoy nerviosa y yo estoy experiencado un cultural nuevo para mi, si? Es una cosa importante a mi vida en general...

(But, I am happy here. I like that I am nervous and i am experiencencing a new culture for me, yes? It is a very imporatant thing in my life in general.)

Pero.

(But.)

Te quiero y hasta luego.

(I love you and will see you later.)

Yours as always,

Janelle

Un dia fantastica.

Hoy fue a la Barria Gótica con Kapita. Hay un área muy interesante y lo tiene muchas tiendas por todo puedas quieres. Estamos explorando muchas carrers y compre regalos por muchas personas y tenia un almuerza muy bien y barrata.

(Today I went to the Gothic Neighborhood with Kapy. It is a very interesting area and it has many stores for anythign you could want. We explored many streets and I bought gifts for many people and had a cheap, good lunch.)

El catedral es ... hermoso hermoso. Y el central gobierno de Barcelona es alli. Entiendo mas sobre Barcelona y Cataluyna ahora. Es una cosa muy compleja y la historia de la ciudad es increible. Yo vi cosas de el century 1 y 2. Muchas cosas son antiguas y bonitas y intersantes. Y la Barria Gotica tiene muchas cosas modernas tambien...Quiero ir con JT y Jozanne. Hay muchas lugares en Barcelona son "super cool".

(The cathedral is beautiful beautiful. And the central goverment of Barcleona is there. I understand more about Barcelona and Cataluyna now. It is a complicated thing and the history of the city is incredible. I saw things from the 1st and 2nd century. Many things are old and pretty and interesting. And the Gothic Neighborhood has many things modern as well. I want to go with JT and Jozanne. There are many places in Barcelona that are super cool.)


Y Andres, Kapita y yo fueron mirar una pelicula en espanol (Che). Es muy dificil para entender la pelicula. Necesito pensar el todo tiempo y por el fin: estoy muy cansada. Pineso que en mas mesas, voy a entender mas.

(And Andrew and I went to see a movie in Spanish (Che). It is very difficult to understand the film. I need to think the whole time and by the end: I am very tired. I think that in a more months, I am going to understand more.)


Anoche, fue al club y bar con mi RA, Laura y tenia un tiempo fantástico. Cuando llegáramos al club de Jazz, la cantadora fue cantando "Hallejuah" y lo era un momento perfecto. Los amigos de Laura son super cool. Y me gusta ir lugares pequenos y hablar mas con personas.

(Last night, I went to the club and bar with my RA, Laura, and I had a fantastic time. When we arrived at the club, the singer was singing Hallejuah and it was a perfect moment. Laura's firends are super cool. And I like to go to small place and to speak more.)

Pero, lo era divertido explorar la ciudad y adjustar mas a la vida aqui. Me encanta Barcelona y todo sobre la vida vivida.

(But, it is very fun to explore the city and adjust more to life here. I love Barcelona and everything about the vivid life.)

Visitame!

(Visit me!)

Te Quiero y Ciao,

(I love you and Bye)

Jza

La Sagrada Famila

The most beautiful thing I have seen in art. I want to encompass the feeling of breathlessness and awe. Of seeing something in being created that will change peoples life for the better for so many years to come...but I can't...I don't have the palabras.

but in the end I have had a beautiful day and I feel blessed beyond belief in every single way a person could be blessed. Yeshua es una cosa compleja and when I see him, everywhere, here...I am awestruck by His beauty and what He has done for us. What a wonderfully beautiful world.

I don't know...What I am trying to say is WOW.

There are no words...

Wow.

-Janelle

Valencia y Peñíscola

Ay! Valencia y Peñíscola son lugares muy singular y bonitas. Amé el mar y los castillos! Era un viaje fantástico!

(Valencia and Peniscola are places very singular and pretty. I loved the ocean and the castles. It was a fantastic trip.)

Tenía la opportunidad encotrar muchas estudiantes: algunos eran muy intelligentes y divertidos...pero algunos eran borrachos.

(I had the opportunity to meet many students: some were intelligent and fun and some were drunk.)

We paddled out into the Meditarraean and it was beautiful. I met some awesome new people and ate paella (overpriced paella but paella) and goodness gracious I keep trying to remind myself where I am and I keep pinching because it is so different...and new and exciting...and despite the difficulties I keep trying to thank God for the opportunity to see his beauty in new wonderful breathtaking ways!

I also loved the aquarium and the lovely archictecture oh goodness I can't put it into words.

But I am in no mood to write about the beauty of these places.

I will try later.

Love,

Janelle