the laze craze.

best friends on the laziest of days...

oh, remember those?....

on stopping.

it is now well into november. well in. well done. too far. and here i am writing for the first time since then. i suppose this is a tell-tale sign as to how fast life is here. and as much as i love this place {with these glorious friends and beautiful apartment and sunday farmers markets and classes galore} this lack of writing is the loudest cry of a busy busy life. and i really do not like that not one bit. because with this business it means not seeing loved ones; it means not talking to family on the phone; it means too much time in the library; it means not living right.

and so i suppose that with my books spread around me on this bed, creating some warped level of comfort that doesn't exist in the normal sheets and blankets {ah, yes, i would love to tell you all about the connection between the hypothalamus and the anterior pituitary, and the road that the releasing hormones travel on, through the median eminence and hypothalamo-hypophysial portal to the anterior pituitary where they act on tropic hormones---}....this means that i am once again succumbed to creating a list. lists? i hope this doesn't last much longer. :)

-I moved. I drove across the country in my trusty volvo, Mazey from Michigan to Seattle. To a beautiful studio apartment in between two lovely parks. It is right down the street from my best friends in the world. It is magical.

-I tattooed. I'm not one to stay put. To settle. To be satisfied with one thought or location {ah, cue my post-modern upbringing now}. And so, I painted my neck with this idea, this thought, this feeling, that "true happiness is having wings." Certainly one day I will be ready to have a solid foot on the ground, but even then, I will want to think of these days. So on my road trip, free as a bird, I stopped in a local tattoo parlor. I told them my dream. They made it happen. Now I have a little feather on my neck.



-I partied. A welcome home, indeed, when your friends celebrate their birthdays. We transformed the ordinary into the magical on those occasions with fall-themed balcony soirees and breakfast-at-tiffany's-in-bed saturday mornings. These friends I have? Well, where do I even begin...



-I schooled. Yes, I shall be in school for quite some more time. That's what you get when you wander aimlessly {or aimfully, depending on whose side you're on} for a few years.

-I halloweened. This year dressed in all blue with a staff and a bell and little tight curls, I was looking for my sheep all night(s) long.



-And somehow, through it all, I still find the occasional time to bake. I wish it was all I ever did. I wish I could stop the days and turn on my oven and cover myself in flour and dreams. I wish I could giggle every day to the amplified sound (it can never be muted) of the pie weights filling the foil. I wish I could knead and prod and poke and mix and melt and pour and cascade and crystalize each second. :) Oh man. I've gotta go make that chocolate banana pie with a cinnamon sugar glazed crust I've been dreaming about. This blanket of notes i've created in my bed, memorizing of the hormone levels through the monthly cycle, can certainly keep things warm while i venture off.

I'm going to get better at these things. These life things. These busy things. These time things. So for now....

Time to stop time.

<3

on pies.

i went to mongolia. it was the adventure of a lifetime. 

i went to newyork. it was so good to see my sweet sissy.

i went to seattle. seeing friends and, my god, mckenzies wedding? man that was good (and beautiful!).

i went here. i went there. up. down. and every which way. pheewwww its been a whirlwind.

and through it all...i needed something solid. 

it seems as though i needed something. as i begin to wonder where my foundations are. as i break away from spain and await the journey to settle into seattle. as i soak up these moments at home. i've need something. 

i wake up in the morning and my bedroom window faces that mighty tree that i've spoke of so often. that tree that watches over me, that tree that is wiser than anyone i have met. he stand there. solid. sturdy. i needed something to keep me sturdy like him. as i travel. as i move. as i step left and right and every-which way.

it seems as though i needed something to wrap my head around what i have seen this summer. to have courage as my brother moves to iraq. to understand where my year has taken me and where it is going. to find strength in separation. to keep michelle michelle.

i needed to find something. 

and so. 

i bake.  

it's weird, these days. i have found this therapy that somehow gets me up in the morning and somehow allows me to rest my head on my pillow at night. "all is well and calm and fine. the crust is chilling in the fridge. close your eyes little one." i bake. i bake breads. i bake dinners. i bake this and that. i bake until my fingers prune and my arms are sore. but mostly, what has mostly gotten me through these past days....i bake pies. 

(and a hardy hats off to patty griffin and jenna hunterson for leading the way.) 

my mom bought me a pie plate yesterday. a glorious one. white. heavy. deep. with thick and rolling ripples on the edges. unlike anything i've seen. this gift, this gift to keep me strong, this gift to help define my being, this gift-- perhaps she knew the weight of it. perhaps she knew how important it would be to me. to fill this plate with the richness of my culinary intellect. of urging this process. of releasing this therapy. of doing what i know how to do right now. sometimes thats what you have. you have what you know right now. and you use that. and you're honest about it. and you bake. 

i mix.

i kneed.

i measure.

i don't measure.

i let myself think. 

i wear my sexy apron.

sometimes i sing at the top of my lungs to music from the past. 

i dip my fingers in and close my eyes and taste. 

i invent.

i kneed.

i kneed.

i kneed.

and goddamn it is nice. 

tick tock.

i really want to keep this blog going. i would really love that. such a wonderful place to write, such a wonderful place to share and process and expand and reflect. but for some reason my fingers don't seem to move toward the keyboard nor my mind to the internet when events happen these days. but perhaps slowly, slowly and with their own precious time of development, the stories will come. and the words will flow. and the rhymes and lyrics and connections and poetry will certainly flow with the space as rich as they deserve. because, let me tell you, the stories that they hold are the most powerful of my life. and that is beautiful.

but for now, with the clock ticking, let me shortly and briefly and in (gasp) list form, write what has happened and what is happening. past present future. to fast. but too necessary. 

that beauty that is in the post below? well, unfortunately it must have been a honeymoon phase of the farm that erin and i were in. i ended up getting really really ill on the farm. really ill. scary ill. we left. we had to. it was necessary. 

we went to a large city with space for erin to dream and for me to recover. it was perfect. we met the most charming and loving and carefree of people. we met the people that you wait to meet your whole life. we frolicked the black-sand beaches. we drank rum and coke. we accomplished firsts after firsts. 

we made our way to sevilla. where we tied up loose ends. where we lived our spanish lives to their fullest. oh, spain. i left my heart there. 

my dad came! he visited spain! vacation bob! we wandered the streets with darling erin and later made our way down to cádiz. beauty. 

and now, here i am back in america. in michigan. in the house i grew up. there is too much to say about being here and too much missing for me to be able to say it. ah, the walnut tree and the basement and lou and papi-- wonders of the world. wonders. 

but before i get too settled, before time passes too quickly, before i am able to take a true deep breath in order to regain consciousness.. well it's time to go again! pack the bags! its time to go again. its time to keep on going.  my bags are packed. 

and off i go on this running journey of the summer that i seem to find myself in, i am off to mongolia in the morning. off to mongolia! to see cj! to see the country! and the people! mongolia! but most importantly, cj! :) at last, reunited with cj at last. 

well. here we go. back for a second and off again. just the way i like it. and here we go. 

wwoofing....

we´re on the farm. ON THE FARM. i wish that i had more time to write, but it turns out that when you live apart from all of civilization, when you live on this secret island that maybe nobody else has ever heard of, when you are amidst bananas and horses and caves and volcanoes, well it turns out that internet is expensive... so this will be short and sweet and to the point. more or less.

let me tell you that things are wonderful. erin and i are living in a little stone house in the side of a mountain, with the most outrageous view of the atlantic ocean. all we see is atlantic ocean in front of us. oh, and mountains. and we are living on a farm. this farm has eight horses (one only five days old!) and one rabbit and two hens and three dogs and at least one million cats and kittens. and lots of lizards. too many lizards. sometimes when we eat breakfast outside at our little breakfast table, we look down the mountain and see the goats rising up. their bells give them away, those silly little kids. so we take care of these animals.

and when we´re not doing that we are taking care of the garden. the organic garden with orange trees and nisparo trees and tomatoes and dill and parsley and cilantro and zuccinni and cucumber and broccoli and lettuce and cabbage and carrots and raddish and raspberries and strawberries and squash and rhubarb and probably more things that i am forgetting in my mental-drawing of the garden.

and when we´re not doing that we are cooking with those ingredients (the garden ingredients, not the animal ones, those poor little kittens) in the enormous kitchen. or we´re by the beach, the one that is a few kilometers away with crystal blue water and black sand. or we´re exploring the caves, the hundreds of caves that are on this mountain. or we´re thinking of the fact that we are living where the mouth once was of this previously volcanic island.

wow. what? when did this all happen? when did we board a plane and find ourselves here? this is outlandish.

uhoh. one minute left on the ticker. must run.

all of my love.

off i go!

the time has passed, the stories have been made, and here i am with one hour left in this wonderful glory-of-a-town. one hour left. looking around at my packed up bags. looking around at this home. this place. this place that has carved a deep deep place in my heart. with one hour left.

they never told me how hard this would be. sure, live somewhere for a year. easy. easy? no no no not easy. leaving this place.... ah even with one hour left i still can't talk about leaving this place. 

acabo de sentarme en el sofa con mi madre maría. acabo de pasar pensando en los recuerdos del año con ella. acabo de llorar y abrazar y esperar en volver otra vez. se ha acabado. 

and thus begins the next chapter of the story: off to sevilla to visit friends there. then off to the canary islands! where erin and i will be wwoofing (working on a farm). a horse farm. in a beach town. with mountains as the background of the scene. thus it begins again. 

with all of my love. 

metas completadas. hasta pronto, esta ciudad de maravilla. familia mía. qué placer ha sido. llevaré los recuerdos, el ritmo, este sentido de ser, a la próxima fase. a sevilla. a la palma. siempre os llevaré conmigo.  ♥

the trouble is.

after this many months... how can i think of leaving? 

therapy.

speaking of my momma. she taught me a lesson last year. an incredibly important, morally righteous, necessary and life-changing lesson. it was when a change of plans brought me home for a month that this lesson occurred. and really, right now is the first time it has popped back into my thoughts. 

what did she teach me? well. when you are in the stick of things. when your life is too much for you to handle. when you are stressed or sad or worried or feel like there are too many things to do but not enough hours in the day or feel like there are too many days in the week and not enough time for you.... when you really need something... that something....

buy a pair of outrageously beautiful and ridiculously impractical and absolutely stunning shoes. 

buy a pair of shoes that are too tall for you to walk around in. buy a pair of shoes that are really sexy. shockingly sexy. buy a pair of shoes that make you feel like you've never felt before. buy a pair of jaw-dropping, second-glance, "hot!" shoes. the kind that nobody indulges in but everybody secretly wants to. buy a pair of shoes that make people look twice. buy a pair of shoes that you don't need or have money for. but that you want. buy them.

and then. when that time comes. when you're stressed. or when you're working. or when all of your friends have gone to the beach and you are wasting away at the grindstone... put them on. put the shoes on. with pride. wear them in the house. or to take the trash out. or, in my case, wear them to the library. and do your thing. hold your head high. because no matter how fast the world is moving, you've got your new pair of shoes that will get you through it. 

so, momma. so, carrie bradshaw. lesson learned and mission accomplished. 

now back to work. 

one twelve page paper for history, done.

one forty-five minute presentation for history, done.

one history exam, done. 

one many-paged translation project, done. 

one twenty-four page journalism project, almost done.

one ten page journalism comparison paper, almost done. 

one five page journalism history paper, pending. 

one journalism exam, pending. 

one translation exam, pending.

and it'll all be ok. because i've got my struttin' shoes on. 

this mother of mine.

time it was i had a dream

and you're the dream come true

and if I had the world to give

i'd give it all to you.

i'll take you to the mountains

i will take you to the sea

i'll show you how this life became 

a miracle to me.

she stands so true in her being, this mother of mine. so firm and strong and wise. her words are solid and truthful, deep and rich, wise and abounding. this mother of mine, she is that pillar. the one of strength, of hope, of dreaming and dreams. the one that is there when you most need it to be, the one that is there forever. this mother of mine. 

you'll fly away

but take my hand until that day

so when they ask how far love goes

when my job's done, you'll be the one who knows.

she teaches, this mother of mine. each thing i hold dear to my heart to my soul to my being, she has taught. each thing i know, she has taught. to be good. to be real. to dream. to stretch your arms and embrace the world. to not hold back. to not look back. to never fear. exuding goodness. this, this is what she has taught. wear your tutu! wear it with pride. try out for the play! do it with courage. live what your heart says! do it with strength. follow your dreams! and i will hold you up. this is she, this mother of mine. 

all the things you treasure most

will be the hardest won

i will watch you 

struggle on

for the answers come

but i won't make it harder

i'll be there to cheer you up

i'll shine the light that guides you down

the road you're walking on

she upholds, this mother of mine. it is real. and tender. and honest. and rare. and she does it, this mother of mine. she upholds her clan, and we thrive in her arms raised high, praising, pressing, pursuing. she upholds. in worries and uncertainties

. in struggles and tears. in missing and waiting. she upholds. she supports. her arms don't shake, her arms don't tire. they raise. and raise. and raise. when the rest of the world falls. and that to me is the greatest mystery of all.

you'll fly away

but take my hand until that day

so when they ask how far love goes

when my job's done, you'll be the one who

 knows.

she laughs, this mother of mine. in its purest and most honest form, she laughs. and the sparkles, oh the sparkles, the sparkles that she emits when this laughter echos through the air. it is a sound that makes distance too far. unmimikable. indescribable. this laugh. this mother of mine. 

before the mountains call to you

before you leave this home

i will teach your heart to trust

as i will teach my own

but sometimes i will ask the moon

where it shined upon you last

and shake my head and laugh and say

it all went by so fast

she knows, this mother of mine. she knows the beat of her drum, and she dances. she hears the beat of our drums, and holds out her hands to help us find the sound. her wisdom is abounding, her knowledge vast. this mother of mine. she leads. in her gentle and tender motherly way. this mother of mine, she knows. 

you'll fly away

but take my hand until 

that day

so when they ask how far love goes

when my job's done, you'll be the one

 who knows

this mother of mine? well. she certainly is something special. 

happy mothers day, momma. i love you.

coffee and time.

a little while after the new year, my momma sent me some coffee. white heather. i write this sipping that coffee now-- that coffee that is the smell of home, the taste of home, the essence of my michigan home. perhaps it is the taste, that rich carmaly hazelnutty flavor; or perhaps it is the familiarity, knowing that a large warm mug of it in between my fingers is the image from home; or perhaps it is the connection, knowing that in just a few hours, other members of the family will be rubbing their sleepy eyes and reaching, too, for a mug of white heather. whatever the reason, this coffee is a godsend. 

there are too many things coming up to live for the moment. what a way to be looking into the future: bright eyed and ready to run. ready to run into whatever it brings, ready to throw my arms wide open, toss my head back, and run with all of my might into the next few weeks and the adventures that they bring. into wrapping things up. into heading back home. into seeing more things and saying goodbye to others. ready to run. maybe thats the image i need in order to keep my emotions under control. the image that most of my life is spent with: leaving a place, growing, bonding, making a story, and then flying once again. ready to run. and while the image is glorious, beautiful, sepia-toned and daffodiled, i wish i were walking. 

this weekend: the weekend in granada. 

coming soon: wilco concert. 

after that: a month working on a farm in the canary islands. 

finally: a visit from papi. 

and then heading back to homebase. 

much love, from this flying girl. 

semana santa.

an honest look at spring in andalucia: 

during carnaval, when you're hungover and the last thing you want to do is leave your house-- you press on and stay out 'till the sun rises again. 

during semana santa, when you're burned to a crisp and the last thing you want to do is be in the sun-- you press on and go to the beach again. 

you know. it's kinda rough. .... :) 

distracted.

maybe it is the fact that im on spring break. or perhaps it may be the reality that i have sunk so deep into this slow and content life that i am having  a hard time pulling myself out. whatever the case may be, my attention span is at its absolute lowest it has ever been. and i wish i could say that it bothers me.

let me clarify... if we're talking about the attention i need to look at the ocean, or to sit on a bus, or to talk in spanish, or play with my host brother. if we're talking about the attention i need to wake up early and stay out late. or hang out with my host mom. or drink coffee. or have long conversations. or dream of the future..... well then, folks, i'm fine and dandy. but if we're talking about the attention span that i need to open one of my school books, to do one of my assignments, to start working on one of my projects for the three classes that i am taking this semester.... well then, folks, i am in trouble. 

case-in-point: i woke up early to start my project, have a book sitting on my lap right now, and decided to write this instead. uhoh. 

cheers

to life being real. 

timelines.

really early: spain celebrates father's day in march. happy fathers day (im late, it was two weeks ago...), papitula! 

really late: spain also moves their clocks ahead late. today late. happy time change, welcome spring and summer.

right on time: spent the weekend in valencia! went to an aquarium and managed to spend seven hours in it. perfect. 

oh! and firsts! -an aquarium!! (the list of detailed first-times is too long to bloggify but spans from belugas to penguins to seahorses and lions). -mediterranean sea!! -real paella!! (from valencia.) now those are some huge deals. 

trust.

i had to go to the doctor for some meds. its near my university, about a twenty-minute walk from my house, so i decided to go right after class. but. i forgot my insurance card. i didn't want to go all the way back home and all the way back. no way. so i gave it a shot.

         "hi, i need this and that, but i don't have my insurance card." 

         "i'll give you the prescription now, and you come back with your card tomorrow morning, ok?" 

times like that i say, come-on usa, get some socialized medicine already!

paelladas.

on saturday. ohhhh saturday. let me tell you about saturday. it was in the high seventies. i wore a sundress. hair up. sunglasses on. i shaved. all big deals. i was spending the weekend at erins house: finally a place all to ourselves (unfortunately of utmost importance. not out of a distain for our families, but more out of a distain for the jump backwards from once-hand independence). it would have been good enough.  the sun would have been good enough. the shaving. the dress. the cold drinks. the sand. all would have been good enough. 

but then we get invited. we get invited to go make paella at la punta. there is a place in cádiz called "la punta" which is a literal "point" surrounded by water in the old part of the town. it is the only place that is still legal to drink publicly; knock-em-back, spain. the place is usually only populated between the hours of 2am and 6am where it looks something like this: a row of pretty shitty dance-clubs, dirty, crowded, and populated with raging seventeen-year-olds. to be honest, description aside, it is not the greatest place to go (although it will always have a place in my heart). but this description of la punta is solely the after-dark description. we had no idea what we were in for when we were invited to go make paella at la punta in the middle of the day. ha! it. was. incredible. we pack up a grocery back with some tinto de verano (the summer delight that has made its face shine again) and hit up la punta. 

there you have it: a group of about twenty or thirty twenty or thirty somethings, having the time of their life, wearing chef hats, laughing and singing and shananagining. standing around a portable burner and gas tank. and. a. huge. absolutely huge. pan of paella in the works (kira, thought of you and steven and those way-too-large paella pans at his work that we never really knew why anybody would ever use them. i now know.). in go the veggies and the chicken and the stock and the rice and the tender love and care. out comes paella. then a kiddy pool shines his face. in goes the apples and the red wine and the sugar and the alc. out comes sangria. 

astounding. spaniards have a way of standing around in the sun all day and making it feel like the day was completely spent worthwhile. satisfying. with a purpose. well, paella, of course. :) 

 

somehow.

i am officially without any voice. none. well, there is some sort of noise that comes out when i attempt to talk, but its not quite humanly comprehensible. wowza. 

seventy-five and sunny.

uhoh. its warm enough to go to the beach. i got a little sunburnt yesterday when erin and i spent the afternoon in one of the nearby pueblos (one of the "white towns" built on a cliff, stacked with old white buildings and gorgeous views) sipping glasses of wine and beer in the sun. i say this uhoh not as an uhoh of skin protection or my (not-so-silent) love for the layers of winter, but more as an uhoh of the realization that i won't be ready to leave this place in four months. uhoh, indeed. 

golden parties.

it was a day spent in glory. its how birthdays should be, right? especially when you turn six. especially when its your golden birthday. exactly. the day should be spent at grandma's house, in grandma's patio..... with all of your best friends and all of your family and your grandma's exchange student. its exactly how it should be. and yes, it was a day worth writing home about. 

the family all comes over around three. we eat a rushed meal (well, "rushed"... lets be honest nothing moves very quickly here) and begin decorating the patio. balloons galore (ay, no puedo más. voy a morir con la falta de aire!), party favors, more balloons, food, the whole shabang. the whole family is there. aunts and uncles and cousins and grandmas. the kiddies arrive an hour later. the whole load of 'em. the whole neighborhood. the whole city im pretty sure. then. it. begins. five hours of dancing and congos and kids on shoulders and throwing kids in the air and spanish versions of piñatas and presents and cake and more dancing and whistles and running and falling and soccering. all in the patio. then come the balloons and the balloon animals (no, im so sorry sweety, i don't know how to make a crown with seven points and a star on the top, but i would love to make you a sword...), and more dancing and singing and games. the sun sets. the kids trample me over and sit on me. now that is what i call a birthday party. 

carlos (my host brother) comes down the stairs with a glass. "what's this?" i ask. "whiskey," he replies. they've all got stiff drinks. "michelle, drink up." i love this place. 

a weekend in the countryside.

it is march. MARCH. no me lo puedo creer! i sincerely apologize for my lack of blogability. no good at this. maybe it is a good sign, however. maybe it is a demonstration of the way that life has been in this place. right? excuses. but good ones. :) 

i have too much to write about. too many stories to share with you. i hope that i can sum them up with enough hudspah, enough heart, enough truth. i will try. 

two weekends ago erin and i had a chance to get out of cádiz and visit our friends in sevilla (a town about two hours north of here). we met them last semester-- they are true gems of this country [they're rollerskaters! when they aren't working they spend their time rollerskating on the streets and in the plazas. now this is a crazy and really popular past-time of tons of spaniards...] a few times have had the chance to go visit them again. [not quite vicky, christina, barcelona style--we're much tamer than that. but, maybe along the same sentimental line. quizás.] a normal visit goes like this: meet up, get a drink, see the city, get some more drinks, see more of the city, meet up with friends, and come back to cádiz. its a flash. a quick sensation of the vibe of the city. and it is always great. but this time... well this time it was different. one dear friend, javi, lives out in the country-- about a half hour away from the city. he owns his beautiful country home fit with gardens and a pool and neighbors with chickens. fit with three sweet little dogs (well, two sweet little dogs and one little devil-of-a-thing). fit with a beautiful, strong, chocolate-brown horse. fit with guitars and outdoor seating and hospitality. you see, these friends are amazing. so erin and i had the chance to go visit javi and the gang two weekends ago! this time, instead of feeling the hearty pulse of the city, we got to enrich ourselves in the smooth tranquility of the country. we relaxed by the pool (its in the seventies here? that shit's crazy). we spent the morning riding off-road motorcycles through the country-side (scenery fit with wild horses, rivers, cliffs, and barbecues). we stopped by the river and skipped rocks. [come back in a few weeks and, see that rope over there? we'll jump on in the river!] we played the guitars and sang. we cooked THE MOST INCREDIBLE (pardon my excitement, it is truly sincere) lunch. we napped in the shade and listened to the chickens do their chickiting. we made plans to return, we made plans to be alive, we made plans to certainly spend more days feeling that air. 

let me tell you, that weekend of february fourteenth? better than any. life to date. as much as i love cádiz (and am even more in love with it since my sister and mom came to visit), it always feels good to step into a new environment. to get out of the city for a bit. but even more thanthat, it always feels good to be reminded of what beautiful things you are living for in this life. for such great friends, for such experiences and adventures, for such amazing views and days. the country always does that to me. i'm a sucker for that place. and, oh man, what a great breath of air. 

  

in other news-- i dropped one of my classes. best. decision. ever. maybe javi and the gang enlightened my outlook on school once again. or my momma. whoever is to receive the thanks: thank you. 

we got back from a month-long vacation in january. we had class for a week or so. we went to sevilla. had a few more classes. and ohhhhh myyyyy goooooodnesss that was just tooooo much school. so we had vacation again. :) this past week has been carnaval.

car...na....val.....i just don't know where to begin about carnaval. so i will write about it later. tomorrow. stay tuned. because you are going to want to hear about carnaval. 

with all of my love.

small updates in the life of.

-we had a tornado warning last week. although the news actually never declared such warning; it all stemmed from word of mouth. like most things here. 

-classes have begun. well, half of them have begun. until thursday, these days are still spent vacationing, while here and there i learn how the spanish ended up in america. 

-my host mom's grandson has a fever again. lets hope this time he doesn't give it to me. come on. 

-today it is a rainy day. i would be perfectly content spending every hour of the day at home baking. unfortunately, that will not be happening due to lack of personal kitchen and (funds for) ingredients. así es. 

the girlies! the cameras!

they came! they conquered! their time here was incredible. look at those ladies, how could it not be? the female clan together again. their weekend visit was straight out of a dream-- train rides through the country, surprise first class, anthropologie hotel rooms, orange blossom scents. paseos through the city, walks along the coast, meeting friends and drinking wine. tucked away in our little rooms, laughing like we never parted. those were two faces that i needed to see, voices i needed to hear, a weekend that i needed to have. two worlds collide. it was incredible. and their view of the city? their new perspective? their open eyes and vocal thoughts? their glimpse into the life that thrives here? well, it made me fall in love all over again. what a great, great visit lonnie and loulou. 

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carnaval festivities have begun here in cádiz! it's the biggest carnaval in europe-- hundreds of thousands of people will make their way to this charming little city in a few weeks for a.....celebration? an excuse? to get dressed up in costumes, to sing in the streets, to drink all the live long day, stay out all night, to remind yourself that you are young and alive? exactly. eso. and the preparations have begun. the city government took down the christmas lights and put up the carnaval lights: clowns and masks and witches lining the streets. it is fabulous. 

and here is where it gets interesting. one of the main reasons for carnaval is the singing. they love them some carnaval music. groups are formed (some are chorus groups, some are more of a theater production, some are serious, most are fun), and music is written pertaining to today (to cádiz, to traditional carnaval, to the crisis--aka the root of all evil, to spanish culture). they dress in costume, elaborate costumes, insane costumes, and -boyohboy- do they take this stuff seriously. so for the entire month of february there is a competition between the most professional singing groups. groups perform every night in front of judges, and at the end of the 'concurso' (at the beginning of carnaval in the streets!) a winner is announced. now these groups sing all over the city, and come from all over the country. during the week of celebration they will sing in the streets, of course they will. but for now. for this month. this is what they do.

they sing in this incredible theater here in cádiz. it is gorgeous, old, historical. a cathedral of a theater. called "el teatro falla." this place is the only real venue here in the city, and normally hosts shows and concerts and acts. but during february? it is carnaval central station. and, again, they take this month very seriously. people waited in line all night for these tickets. to sit in the nosebleed seats? around 40 euros. to sit in a balcony? 80 euros. but that's when you buy them from the ticket office. to sit in a private balcony once the seats are sold out? well, folks. tickets sometimes go for as high as 500 euros. 5. 0. 0. euros. unbelievable. carnaval is serious. 

and two nights ago, erin and i went. to carnaval! to carnaval en el falla! we had no plans of going, never even crossed our minds. we don't have 40 euros. 80 euros. 500 euros. no way. but we do have this friend. he's a journalist, and spends every night at el falla-- every night reporting on the groups that sing, writing up reviews, diving right in. man, he loves this stuff. and somehow, somewhere, in some dream of life here in cádiz, he got us into the newspaper's private balcony. we're talking prime seats. we're talking ground floor, perfect view, best view. we're talking out of the blue. unreal. it was amazing. but it doesn't stop there. he's a journalist, yes? well. with his word of mouth, erin and i soon became the spectacle of the evening. he told all of his journalist and newscaster friends that two american girls were sitting in the balcony. "two american girls watching carnaval in el falla? that is curious. very very curious." before we knew it we had our picture taken. and another. and then a man with a video camera came up to us. and a bright spotlight. and a microphone. oh! live television! and then another microphone. oh! a radio show! and another camera. and another microphone. and there we are. two girls in el falla. sitting in glory. sitting in shock. in the midst of it all. 

we were on tv. we were broadcast on two radio shows. we were published in two newspapers. 

carnaval has begun. 

barack obama. katie marie. karyl marie.

first of all. we have a new president. and finally. sin verguenza. i am american. i am proud. i am delighted. watching this unfold from abroad might be one of the most amazing experiences of a lifetime. it might bring you clarity about this man that is taking office. and confidence. and pride. the whole world is cheering him on. i absolutely mean that. :) the day has never been so great. 

in other news. in the best of news. here comes my sis and my momma! for days! this little chikity has never been so happy. :)

wild.

the hills were alive with wildflowers and i was as wild, even wilder, than they. for at least i could run, they just died in the sun, and i refused to just wither in place.

just a wild mountain rose, needing freedom to grow... so i ran fearing not where i'd go. when a flower grows wild it can always survive, wildflowers don't care where they grow. 

and the flowers i knew in the fields where i grew were content to be lost in the crowd. they were common and close, i had no room for growth, i wanted so much to branch out.

i uprooted myself from home ground and left... took my dreams and i took to the road. when a flower grows wild it can always survive, wildflowers don't care where they grow.

i grew up fast and wild and i never felt right in a garden so different from me. i just never belonged, i just longed to be gone. so the garden, one day, set me free. 

hitched a ride with the wind and, since he was my friend, i just let him decide where we'd go. when a flower grows wild it can always survive, wildflowers don't care where they grow. 

here i am.

"if you could get a tattoo, what would it be of?"

"that's the thing. there's nothing that i'm passionate enough about yet. there's nothing i will cherish forever. there is nothing in my life that i want to have put on my body. i guess that's why i'm traveling......i'm searching for my tattoo." 

-david

"are your feet cold?"

"yes, but look at these boots. see where they're worn? that's spain. i lost that heel in amsterdam. and see that hole there? that's from italy. and that one, from belgium. that tear in the top, i got that one in paris. and that scuff on the side, that's from dublin. there's a whole world under these boots." 

-alessandro, yo

they made it. [sort of.] these traveling boots were steadily with me every day, they carried every story along the way. they carried a world under them. they held all of my secrets and experiences and dreams and pasts. they treated me well. and then, in a ceremony of gratitude and despedida, i bid them farewell on the streets of paris. i bid them farewell for the next person to find them, for the next person to line them with cardboard or fabric, to warm them and worn them. for the next traveler to pick up on their way around the world. they treated me well. and now, let me tell you some of the stories they had in them. goodbye, you traveling shoes. 

we started going from cádiz to milan italy (for a flight layover) and then ended up in amsterdam. we made it to our hostel, a really famous one called "the flying pig." it was beautiful, a nice bar in the basement, really safe, really beautiful. but if that is all the city had to offer, i would stop there. the delight did not stop in the hostel. in fact, amsterdam is the most beautiful city i have seen year-to-date [again. not to say much. lets go farther. life-to-date, in it's own way, i suppose.] absolutely stunning. with old buildings, tall and thin, lining the streets and the canals. the streets full of christmas lights, strewn through canals. it is the quintessential european city, with trams and an iceskating rink and christmas trees and pubs and coffee shops.

 

all of you ever hear of this city is the drugs and the prostitution (both of which are prevalent, both of which exist), but there is so much more than that. there is kindness, there is a culture, there is beauty. there are more bikes than there are humans in the city, and they are rarely locked. 

there is trust. there is happiness. emily and erin and i were walking in the street one day and santa came around the corner. yup. santa. "DO YOU WANT A PICTURE??" of course we want a picture. "THREE OF THEM! WE'LL GIVE YOU THREE! FOR FREE!" and that was it. three polaroid photos, handfuls of little chocolates, and ya está. we hunted down what we wanted to experience, and ya está.

there was a freeing spirit during those days in amsterdam. 

a few days later, on christmas eve, we caught a train to brugges (belgium). the trip there brought christmas phone calls and carols of silent night from the family, an omen of course to how lovely our time would be in brugges. it was magical. 

the city is tiny. a disney-land of sorts, a city that feels like it has not moved [or maybe that it has not stopped moving] since the middle ages. it carries history, pride, and the flemmish language. of course i speak flemmish.

we checked into our christmas-present-hotel on christmas-eve: the die swaene. oh. my. gosh. this hotel was amazing. incredible. we had a room of magic: entirely decorated in rich, lavish red tones, with a small vanity tucked in the corner, with down blankets, with robes and slippers. the key came on a rope fit for queens. for kings. for princesses and, well, travelers.

with a pool that looked like it belonged to the most extravagant spas in the world. we had a balcony that overlooked the dining room and the various brown-toned-brick rooftops of brugges. outside the hotel was a canal, strewn with christmas lights. we hung our long socks by the radiator for stockings, we tucked into our robes, and we laid in bed and watched audrey hepburn movies on television. it was enchanting. 

of course we left the hotel room once or twice for an incredible buffet breakfast in the cave-of-a-dining-room where they used to age the meat and the wine. of course we left the hotel once to go iceskating in the center of the city. of course we left once to eat traditional flemmish meals (rabbit in a belgium beer stew sauce? of course i'll try it. sorry, oreo.) our first days in belgium were slow and delightful. 

we left the day after christmas to move to a hostel. still charming, of course (as are most things in belgium). we stayed in "bauhaus," where there was another happening bar and wonderful traveling scene. it feels different when you are traveling during the holidays-- everybody is searching for that bit of home and that bit of family that they are missing. it was in this city that we met some wonderful australians, mexicans, italians, and fellow americans. lovely folk, simply lovely.  

after throwing stones on frozen canals with new friends, after seeing the huge windmills, 

and drinking hot wine and eating brats and onions and waffles and chocolate, 

after hunting down the "debruyn" bed and breakfast, 

our time in brugges had come to an end. 

we soaked up our time in belgium, and headed off to paris (france). the train tickets were nearly sold out, and so it ended up that we needed to [... ehem... as we like to travel in style...] buy first class train tickets to paris. haha. así es la vida, ¿no? :) we did just that. and with a farewell to brugges, we boarded the train (the lavish train, with bottled water and a meal and wifi and plugs and dimmed lights and coat holders) and were on our way. 

the first few nights in paris we couch surfed (there is a website where you can find somebody's couch to stay on, saving money, getting a local and inside perspective of the city it seems to work out well). it worked out well for us. pierre was a kind gentlemen, gave us a bed to sleep in, and met us for drinks and evening city-tours.  

we spent new years eve with pierre and his friends in the forest. the parisian forest. his friend's mom owns an old theater, where they were hosting a big new years party. it was a "bring a drink or food and get in for free" sort of deal. drinking and dancing and ringing in two thousand and nine in parisian style. it was an interesting way to ring in the new year. and, yes, fun (up until the point that we realized the metro was not, in fact, running all night and we had a three-hour walk ahead of us). oh well, does the boots good. 

after a few nights at pierres we headed to hotel saint sebastian, where we spent the next week. it was a charming little hotel, an attic room with exposed ceiling beams. charming for the strong-of-heart. we [secretly[ enjoyed the dance parties that our middle-eastern neighbors privately hosted in the wee hours of the morning. we [secretly] loved the graffiti carved into the wooden beams and walls. it was from here that we meandered into the real paris: to amelie's cafe and the moulin rouge; to the eiffel tower and the seine river; to versailles and marais and le chat noir and sacre coure and the louvre and many marvelous myriads of neighborhoods. we had no rush. we had days and days to soak in the life that was. 

it was finally in paris that some snow came our way. delightful. thick. white. rich. the kind of sight that this michigander longs for. without snow it never really is a true winter. it was just what we needed to press on. 

the best part of paris. the story beyond stories. the tale that, not unlike hotel saint sebastian, is for the strong of heart, is this. one day we decided to stroll to the plaza where marie antoinette was guillotined. a little history never hurt anyone. and in this case, it only helped us. after exploring the plaza and ghosts and surrounding areas, our stroll begin. famous streets and lit trees and glorious views, it was incredible. we walked and walked and finally stumbled upon a crowd of people. if i learned one thing on this trip [a true lie let me warn you right now], it is that a crowd is always a good sign. always. we were outside of a theater, there was a red carpet, and so we asked around in our inability to speak french. we decided to stick around, weasel our way up to the front, get a good look at what was coming our way. and then it happened. he stepped out of the limo. he walked out onto the red carpet, black tuxedo, so sharp, so handsome, what a stud. he waved and signed autographs and waved and laughed and got close to the crowd. we were in the front, but on the fringe. "he's not coming our way." or so we thought. here he comes here he comes here he comes. i am ashamed to say [again, a complete lie] that erin and i completely lost our cool at this moment. things transformed, we reverted to sixteen year old girls, screaming and gooing and gahing. but it was worth it. what came out of our mouths? "in west philadelphia born and raised on a playground...." he heard us. not only did he hear us, but he joined in. "on a playground is where i spent most of my..." oh. my. god. will smith is singing with us. singing with us! will smith! right here! in front of our faces! singing! i had my camera in my hand, and in the excitement of everything he grabbed my camera, came into my embrace [yes, look closely, both of those brown mittens are mine indeed, i may or may not be hugging the handsome man], and snapped a picture. will. you are a good man. and, as it turns out, you are now my favorite actor. highlight of paris. 

on my birthday, erin and i woke up bright and early to catch our flight to dublin (ireland). it was the last stop on our journey, and a bittersweet farewell to emily and karina and paris and all the places we had been thusfar. four thirty in the morning came far to early, as we took our last walk to the metro in hopes of finding the bus to the airport. 

dublin was charming. a city of green, of guinness [and tours of said factory], of hilarity. it was the perfect place to spend a twentysecond birthday. 

i reunited with an old friend from spu; crossing paths in distant lands. we met some locals, they showed us their favorite places to see, and we ended the night singing "i love you baby" with irishmen in a packed pub. wonderful. a charming ending to the trip of a lifetime. 

a day and a half in ireland. and back to spain. back to home. back to where i belong for now. 

time to ring in what will come next. the next journey. the next place to bring these new traveling shoes. the next story to walk upon and carry with me and put inside of that place within me that holds so many things in this world so dear to my heart. this world makes me a better person. this world makes me stronger, more courageous, gives me strength and passion and hopes and dreams. this world a damn good place. 

they say i'm going to quit these wandering ways some day. i'm not convinced. :)