The Sweetness of Life

I am spoiled.

There are some days that are just pure perfection.

The other day, some of my lovely friends and I decided to watch the sunset in the fields by where I live. We bought sweet spanish wine, gouda cheese, luscious fruit, and wayyy too much bread for a picnic.

But we forgot the bottle opener.



Good thing we had a pocket knife and a rock.




God is good. He paints the most beautiful sunsets every night and is present in the laughter of friends. His voice speaks through the awed silence of his great masterpieces.

Like I said, I am spoiled.

CAMPEONES DEL MUNDO

YO SOY ESPAÑOL ESPAÑOL ESPAÑOL!!!!!

Spain made it to the FINALS of the World Cup.
The game was against The Netherlands.
We headed to Madrid, because something of this magnitude needed to be celebrated in an equally epic way.

I have never seen so many people in my entire life. The streets were completely filled with red and yellow as far as you could see.

The game was intense.
No one scored until the final minutes of the game.
At last, the moment everyone was waiting for:



And the city exploded! The eruption from the crowd was insane!
Everywhere in Spain.... the entire country was on its feet!
In Segovia, in Madrid, in every province, town, plaza, house, and bar.
SPAIN WON!
Spain hasn't been in the finals of a world cup in over 65 years.
They have never won.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, a once-in-a-lifetime celebration.
Dancing in the streets, fireworks, getting showered in champagne, running with flags, every car in the city honking horns, people hanging out of windows, climbing statues, jumping in fountains!!!!
We jumped up on the statue in the center of the Plaza de Colon and joined the crowd in a rousing chorus of:

OLÉ OLÉ OLÉ OLÉ, OLÉ, OLÉ!!!!! OLÉ! OLÉ,OLÉ,OLÉ!!!!!! OLÉ!!!!!!!!!!!!

I did not sleep that night. No one in Spain slept that night. Class the next morning? Who cares? No buses til 6:30am? SO WHAT?!!!!

I am still recovering, utterly exhausted even after 2 days, but Spain winning the World Cup is definitely one of the greatest memories. It was absolutely incredible, so much fun, and something I may never get to experience ever again. The whole country is still celebrating. Everywhere we go people still cheer, still dance, and are going to be talking about that night for a very long time.

This entire trip is such an incredible adventure. Getting to come while the World Cup was happening was one thing, but to be a part of the country that won? ... There are no words. But I feel like I understand what it means to be a Spaniard so much more now. There is a connection you have to your country; you are proud of them when something like this happens. I am becoming attached to this place. We read a poem about Salamanca in my lit class the other day, where the author was talking about how he felt when he came home. This has become my home, my family, my neighborhood, my futbol team, my cobblestone streets. I will treasure these memories forever.

Ganadores, Ganadores, OLE OLE OLE!!!!!!!!!

Futbol

Today was Spain vs. Germany!
Around 8:00pm we walk down the street, everyone is decked out in spanish jerseys, flags, and facepaint.
Kids run around the plaza playing their own futbol game and waving flags. Everyone is packed into whatever bar or cafe has a TV. The streets are practically empty, but you can hear a hundred commentaries blaring from houses and restaurants. As one, they gasp, sigh, shout, sing, and stand as the game is unfolded.
The funniest thing is watching the elderly people. They jump up and down and yell at the screen, looking 30 years younger than they are.
When the time runs out, everyone in Segovia is on their feet cheering like crazy!
Skipping and dancing through the streets, the entire city is outside. Everyone is singing and shouting the glorious victory! The streets turn into a giant parade, cars come from nowhere blaring their horns and flowing Spanish flags out the windows. A constant stream of them jet down the street as people all around shout ESPAÑA!!! People are running down the hill with flags tied on as capes, faces painted red and gold. Everyone is excited, one day closer to the finals!


In America, we have football and baseball, but NOTHING compares to the excitement of this game. What it means for Spain, what means internationally... is something we don't comprehend in America except maybe when the Olympics come around. The Spanish passion for the game is unlike anything I've ever seen.

Next game is Spain vs. Netherlands

Home Sweet Home Away From Home

I have been in Segovia Spain for about 2 weeks now. Everyday I walk about twenty five minutes along cobblestone streets through a "not-so-shortcut" to get to class. Along the way I enjoy the quietness. Typical Spaniards don't emerge until past 10am usually, and I must leave our home around 8:15, which usually turns into 8:30 before I am actually out the front door. I pass a few of the exceptions, a pair of elderly men trudging down the street for a morning stroll, and begin my way uphill. It's a strange phenomena here in Segovia, You walk uphill both directions to and from pretty much everywhere. I haven't figured out how that's entirely possible, but it is what it is.

Classes are in Colegio Claret. It's a high school near the aqueduct, but is empty for the summer with the exception of 30-something college kids from good ole' Georgia using the building. Because there is not class in the summer, there is no air conditioning. I am convinced that we are extremely spoiled in that regard back in America. We have air conditioning in our houses, walk out to our air conditioned cars, and then there is air conditioning wherever we go. Nuts I tell ya...

So we are in a classroom on the second floor of the school. It looks and feels pretty much the same as highschool felt in America. It even has the same smell.

At 9am Spanish time...meaning more like 9:30, our first professor walks in the class. Edu is his name, short for Eduardo. He is very tall and has curly hair. I think he kind of looks like a bat, which can be pretty amusing at times. He teaches culture...which is really a class of geography, history, religion, art, war, politics, and about a hundred other random things combined. I love it. It's still a little early, so the room isn't terribly hot yet, but it is a bit stuffy this morning. Towards the end of the class I begin to drift off into my own thoughts, somehow combining the lecture on wars in Iberia with a mental image of Edu the Bat.

After culture we have literature class. Paco is our professor and he is a cute little old man who rocks a fedora and italian leather shoes. He is as typical Spaniard as it gets. His voice is scruffy and he can be a bit of a firecracker. He has a love for Spanish poetry, and is introducing us to all the Greats from Spain. I'm a closet poetry lover, so I have truly loved each lesson. Most people here don't share my affinity for poetry and take this class as a mini siesta. I must admit to doing the same, but at 11am in a room with 30 people and no A/C, listening to poetry that has the same effect and beauty as a lullaby, I am powerless in the battle against my eyelids.

I enjoy each class, but i must say that grammar is my favorite. Yes. It is. I promise. No really. Our profesora is Emi, and she is the most bubbly, energetic person ever. She comes into class with a colorful outfit every single day and a huge smile on her face. She is absolutely sweet. When she arrives, she takes the time to ask each and every person how our day or weekend has been. We have discovered that if we each have a story, she will listen and enjoy it with utmost interest. We have successfully shared stories through the first hour of each class we have had so far, leaving about 25 minutes for the actual grammar lesson which, in my opinion, is perfect.

The walk home (uphill again...seriously it's ridiculous) is always interesting. Segovia is finally awake and people are everywhere. Along the way, my roommate and I take note of new parts of town we want to visit, new stores to go in, new cafeterias to try out, all while joyfully complaining about the hill and our aching leg muscles, yet remaining simultaneously ecstatic that we actually have muscles that can ache now.

After some of the best food and conversation with our host family, along with a 2 hour siesta, I am refreshed and ready to explore the beautiful city. I have fallen in love with Segovia. It's so beautiful. People like Hemingway knew what they were doing when they came to Segovia to write. The very air gives you inspiration. The city is old world meets the 21st century. It's big enough where there is always somewhere new to go, yet small enough that you can walk everywhere. It has the big-city clubs and the small town coffee shops. You know everybody, yet meet new people every day. There are gardens and remnants of a more ancient city, founded in Roman times, and new buildings being constructed all around.

settled about the edges of the city are mountains. A few steps down and you find a river, over around the corner you see nothing but farmland and valleys filled with wild flowers. It really doesn't get any better than this. It's almost surreal. We've visited some other cities: Salamanca, Madrid, Avila.. but none of them compare to this place. It's been an incredible time so far. More adventures to come!