Cielos

I've been thinking a lot lately about the word cielo, which directly translated, means "sky," whereas el cielo means "heaven." Our sky today was quite blustery and overcast (cielo cubierto), but we persevered to travel to Segovia and Ávila, southwest of Madrid.


However, if you were to say cielo raso, it means "ceiling." As we've traveled around, I've been particularly enamored with the ceilings in the castles and cathedrals. So how are all these variations on the word connected?

It's simple: look up. Look up from the ground, you're not going to trip. Look up from your problems, they're quite miniscule. Look beyond your own abilities to a power far beyond your own. Look up.

I like to think that the artisans working on the design of these religious structures and elaborate fortifications had this metaphor in mind. If you don't take the time to look up, you might miss what could possibly be the best part. But then again, if you don't know that it's there, maybe something will always be missing for you. So with the help of a blog that finally decided to let me show you pictures, I will show you the cielos of the past few days. It doesn't really matter where they're all from, but ¡cielos! (good heavens!) I assure you they're all beautiful.

Ser o no ser estudiante

Although I am galavanting in Spain, I am still a student. I am required to take 2 classes: Spanish 321 (3rd year grammar, reading, and composition) and Spanish 345 (Iberian Civilization). We started classes this week, and so far they're going really well. Sometimes I forget how much I like to learn--of course, it's easy to forget when I'm studying for finals or when I don't even have enough time to eat in the day. But I do love to learn.

I like the diversity of things there are to do here. Since Maddie and I are taking the same classes also, we basically spend every waking moment together. We study together, eat together, help with meals, hang out with Julio, take walks, ride the bus to class...but we're also very much in favor of other Spanish traditions such as the famous siesta after lunch, or tapas in the early evening. Yesterday we had tapas in a famous Alcalá bar called Indalo. In short, tapas are meriendas, or little snacks, kind of like sandwiches, that Spaniards eat between their lunch and dinner. They are usually served with beer or wine, but no worries Mom, I don't even drink carbonation. :) And usually they consist of seafood, but I wasn't feeling quite as daring as I should have for the first time yesterday, so I just got one with pork and red peppers, and it was deliciosísima.

My favorite part of the whole experience was that the waiter won't come bring you the bill, you have to ask for it. Not only do Spaniards believe in eating, but taking their time while they do so. A waiter won't bring you the check like in the States as a subtle hint for you to leave; you can stay there as long as you want after you're finished eating. So we did, and it was very nice. I'll let you know when I try the calamari one...

It's crazy to think that I've only been here a week. I LOVE it here. Their speed of life seems slower, less rushed. Of course, I'm not saying no one is ever in a hurry, but at least to me, it seems like they take better care of themselves as far as their physical health is concerned. Granted, I am a college student, and I haven't eaten this well since my mom last gave me leftovers. :) And like I said before, I'm still a student, so my homework calls. But I'm not just learning from my books. In the words of my director (keep in mind he has a British accent), "Remember, Spain is your classroom."

Si le vemos, lo sabremos

After traveling through the night, we went to La Plaza de Cervantes (prounced la pla-tha they ther-ban-teyss with a spanish accent) to meet our families. They were supposed to be there at 2:00pm, but many arrived after. Maddie, my roommate, and I waited and waited. Families came to pick up students, but we were left there until probably about 2:20 or so...probably one of the longest 20-30 minutes of my life. It was like we were waiting to be picked for a sports team in elementary school, but much, much worse. It was more like we were orphans and we were waiting for someone to come adopt us.

However, it gave us sufficient time to notice that the host families matched their students perfectly. So we got to the point where we would see another anxious Spaniard come to collect us Americans, and we could tell if they were there for us. Si le veremos, lo sabremos. If we see them, we will know, we said. And we did. Up walked Faustino López, and we knew he came for us.

He has quite the apostolic feel; he doesn't talk very much, but he is very nice. He is very helpful around the house, especially since his wife, our madrita, has breast cancer. She's been going through chemo and I can tell she's very weak often. I can't believe she still volunteered to have students in her house again (they've done it recently before). Their house feels very similar to mine, I feel very at home. We come home at the end of the day exhausted and all I want to do is stay home. It feels good.

Our activities as of late have been hanging out with Julio, their 23 year-old son who is in a wheelchair. He has cerebral palsy, but not to the point where he can't eat, speak, or change channels on the TV. He speaks slowly enough that Maddie and I can understand him perfectly, which is awesome. Guillermo is their other son, who is 25. He is studying architecture in a University in Madrid--he travels 2 hours every day to get there, and 2 hours to get back. This is his 7th year of college--school is different here. But he served with one of my friends from drumline, Craig Conder, in Riverside California. Craig was his district leader, so it was interesting to make that connection. It's a very small world when you're Mormon.