humor and hospitality.

I absolutely love when Sandra and Juan Lu get worked up about something at the dinner table because it is so entertaining to watch and hear them talk. It’s like, way better than watching the tele.  I cannot believe human beings are capable of speaking that rapidly; we should make a video of them talking like that to each other to show everyone just how impressive and intimidating Andalucian Spanish can be. Plus their expressions cause us to giggle uncontrollably. To the point of all out-laughter, and the funny thing is that they don’t even mind our pure beguilement—without flinching, their voices continue to rise and their whole body gets into it until I think they are going to fall out of their chairs! (Okay, so maybe they secretly get a kick out of our amusement; I hope so!) It is such a show. I am really going to miss this.

Tonight the vexation was their phone company. I truly feel for them—Spanish phone companies sound just plain awful in regards to customer service. The couple was irritated to the max today, this Zach and I know, because it was the only topic of discussion at both lunch and dinner. Hombre.

When these kind of comical mealtimes occur, Sandra and Juan Lu are not getting mad at each other, in fact, they never argue in front of us. They just like to vent about ordinary life problems with one another and with us. I have loved getting to know these two in such wonderful detail. They have truly shared their lives with us. Not just their home and shower and washing machine. But who they are. What makes him Juan. What makes her Sandra. They are such beautiful people, these two. Although they don’t realize it and are not really trying, we see Jesus in them. In small and big ways. Their hospitality throughout the entire semester has been incredible. So impacting, actually, that Zach and I have been inspired to open our home to study-abroad students someday. We think that’d be so cool. Worthwhile and life-enriching. I just need to learn how to cook first. J

what Thanksgiving was like.

Two days ago Zach & I celebrated our first Thanksgiving together here in Sevilla! Have to admit that it did not feel like Thanksgiving at all. I tried really hard to feel it. And by “it,” I don’t mean the thankfulness part, but just that feeling, that ambiance, that sentiment I feel when I’m at home surrounded by family and food all day and the football game on in the living room and the happy Chloe running between my legs and the feeling of the cold autumn air rushing in when the front door swings open. I tried to imagine it but it was kind of hard, especially when the holiday just doesn’t exist in Spain. Haven’t felt the familiarity of “home,” whether it be at my parents’ house or the Borchardts, for so long it seems. After getting married to my best friend, “home” has taken on a different meaning. It’s simply wherever and whenever I’m with Zach. We both longed for our families, but were reminded that this year is particularly meant to strengthen our dependence on each other. A wonderful thing for our marriage. Here’s how the day went:

No classes for Zach, so we got to sleep in.

I still made my visit to La Caridad, where I took a fair share of blood pressures. (The men basically line up out the door to get it taken on Thursdays. They like to know their stats. J) I learned that my saint’s (Santa Cristina) day is July 24^th. [Every day, all 365 of them, is a particular saint’s “day” here in Spain. Saint Cristina was a young martyr in Italy in the 9^th century who was beheaded when the attempt to drown her failed… boy. Cristina, you poor thing, I salute you. And I look forward to meeting you someday.]

Later, I was passing out meds in el comedor when an old man named Pachón tried to get my attention. I’ll admit to mentally writing him off as a little crazy in the past when we’ve interacted. He doesn’t always seem to be all there.  On this particular morning he was holding up both hands, demonstrating 5 and 1 (in reference to the weekend’s futbol game outcome) and shouting something about Sevilla beating Betis. Rafa noticed my confusion and explained, “He’s telling you about the game this weekend.” He looked at the old man. “Have you told Cristina you used to play for Sevilla?” He shook his head no; my mouth gaped open in disbelief. I asked Pachón if Rafa’s words were true. He nodded proudly, and Rafa told me to wait as he ran up to the old man’s bedroom to retrieve a photo. Pachón started mumbling some things about futbol, I think, (he is very hard to understand!), and soon Rafa was back and the 3 of us looked on at the old framed black-and-white picture together, Pachón recalling every teammate’s name perfectly. The old man was Sevilla’s 1948-1949 goalie. I was very impressed to say the least, and equally delighted to discover this little fact about ‘just another old man’ at La Caridad. Now I’ll know what to talk about with him next time we meet. :)

Lunchtime brought good pasta and conversation with Sandra and Juan Lu. We tried to explain why we celebrate Thanksgiving in America but they didn’t really understand. Their response to Zach’s and my over-simplified explanation of “Thanksgiving started when the pilgrims came to America and had a feast with their Native American friends” was, “That’s a little strange, no?” Haha.  Of course it made more sense to just explain that traditionally it’s a holiday meant for the gathering of family with a lot of food involved and reflecting on the blessings that God’s given. But this just led to the couple asking, Well what about the poor? How can they be thankful when they have nothing? At these questions I started to feel very uncomfortable, probably because I’ve been wrestling with the same types of questions lately… Of course, now I couldn’t bring myself to tell them about the ironic event that happens only in America the day after we celebrate all the things we’re thankful for. This really would have baffled them.

So after lunch I just felt a little unsettled. Maybe because I just wanted this particular aspect of my culture to be understood by these Spaniards whom I love. And for sure I was missing our families. Was grateful to have Zach to confide these things to, yet even more grateful to know that the Lord saw my uneasiness and longings as He always does. There is such peace in that.

Whatever distresses I was finding myself in earlier in the day were soon forgotten when I went to tutor my girls later that evening. They are my suns, those kids. So precious in their own ways, all 6 of them. It was a Marta and Mercedes night, and we talked about girly stuff like usual. They love talking about boys and asking about being married and showing me pictures of when they were little. On this night I discovered their talent for doing hair. I felt myself just beaming as they chatted away while twisting my hair and shoving bobby pins here and there. They were readying me for the special Thanksgiving dinner I was going to right after leaving their home, and dang I looked good. ;)

The rest of Thanksgiving evening consisted of a fancy dinner with the other American students at a Cuban restaurant complete with American-ish foods, gifts, friends and laughter, pumpkin flan, and best of all: Salsa dancing! Zachary and I didn’t make it home until close to one in the morning, and by that time my Menchaca family back home in Columbus was gathered around waiting for a Skype call. Getting to see all their faces, including Chloe, on one screen contented my heart and was the perfect ending to the day.

And just like that, as I am typing this novel of a blog-post late into the night, another weekend has ended. The next 3 weeks to come will be busy, and I aim to post shorter entries more frequently! We’ll see how that goes..

To you, kind reader, 

                     with love,

                              from Spain.

                                           Kristen

                                            xoxo

lately.ramblings.

I have literal “warm fuzzies” right now as I sit here and type on the sofa, ending the day. Nano’s little warm puppy body is sleeping on my belly. His head is resting on my right hand—don’t know how he could be the least bit comfortable as my hand constantly moves in order to type. Yet, he stays. He grunts every once in awhile, too. I think my soul is smiling.

So, I spoke too soon (in reference to our continuing good health in the last post) and did indeed get sick this week… Think I am over the worst of it; hopefully it will clear up completely in a couple days. Just had a case of a tortuously scratchy throat, a head as heavy as a bowling ball and very congested, and a nose that would not stop running… fun stuff like that, you know. (The overall BEST part of getting sick? Not being able to taste a thing. Sandra made us our favorite soup Wednesday night—it felt like water running down my throat. I almost cried.)

Despite the miserable symptoms and even a few not-so-restful nights, I have been having a wonderful week. So wonderful, in fact, that I’ve realized I’m kind of actually over the homesick phase that happened around the 2.5 – 3 month point and now feel this odd sense of, I live here. This feels like home. And I don’t really want to leave in a month. I don’t.

I made a commitment to myself last week that I would finish strong. I asked Jesus to place in my daily Sevilla life opportunities to make my last moments here the most memorable ones. The truth is though, He is always giving us those opportunities to live daily life more meaningfully. We just have to get up and snatch ‘em. Our home and way of life in Sevilla has become so natural to us. We know how to get around our neighborhood like we’ve lived here for years. I used to feel so awkward at big-city living but now I’m pretty sure I could take the metro to my job in my sleep. We’ve become regular friends with the young frutería woman down the street, the sweet old couple 2 floors beneath us, the Nigerian man who sells Kleenex on the bridge, the homeless Spaniard who sits in the street on our way to the school, and the Hungarian woman who works in the coffee shop who helps me with my Spanish. What I’m trying to say is that the newness of living in Spain wore off awhile ago, and instead of these last few weeks dwindling down to Oh, hurry up and get here December 15^th!, it is my heart’s desire to make these last days count. I want to have those kind of moments and interactions with people that make my heart swell and explode in thankfulness to God for this life I get to live so briefly.

Week 12 held many of these heart-swell moments I speak of. They’re the little things.

Like getting to assist the doctor caring for an old man’s pretty infected toenail at La Caridad.

Like seeing Rafa’s (the doctor) face beam when he realizes I finally understand perfectly what he is trying to teach me about Sintrom (the Spanish equivalent of the anticoagulant medication we know as Warfarin).

Like painting nails with the 18-year old Marta, one of the girls I tutor in English. (She laughed when I told her I wanted all different colored-nails because that’s what Zach likes best.)

Like leaving the apartment of the Peña family, all of them gathered at the door to say Goodbye over and over to me after a tutoring hour with the kids. Oh how I’ve been spoiled with that family.

Like watching Sandra reminisce upon showing us a bunch of old photos of her and her family through the years. We talk about family and how it’s like the best, most important thing.

Like getting our friend John (the man on the bridge) to tell us about his wife and kid, and hearing about his dream to make a better life for them all in the US someday.

And like dancing in the living room with Zachary, trying to polish our flamenco moves for the “recital” in a few weeks but only tripping over feet and getting dizzy and doubling over in laughter at how silly we must look.

And I reread everything I’ve just typed and think, you know these are just everyday normal things. Nothing crazy or life-changing.  But they’re gifts, all of them. I had to make the choice to see them as such. Alas, this post has turned into another cheesy reflection just like my last one was, and I feel kind of dumb. I’m such a sap, lately. Living my first married days out in Spain has probably made me so. But probably also the fact that I feel like I’ve grown so much closer to God through the hearts of other people.

     He is everywhere. In the Christian. In the non-Christian. In the beauty of nature. But also among the messy city streets. I see Him in the times of plenty. And also He is present in these times of economic hardship for the Spanish people. Has been really eye-opening to live here, and it’s just my prayer that Zach and I can continue to be moved by a God who is everywhere, who dwells in the heart of humanity, in all people whether they are at the end of themselves or  have finally come to understand how to live an abundant life in Him.

What about those in the middle? Yeah, He is especially there. 

Take heart,

Kristen

p.s. Mom and Dad Menchaca/Borchardt: the Nov 14 General Strike day throughout Spain was fine and we are okay. There were a bunch of shouting people in the streets with signs, and they vandalized some ATM machines and other things in the Center and there was trash everywhere, but it didn't get too heated like I heard it did in Madrid. Decided not to tell you about the country's strike day until after it happened and not before:) love you!! xoxo

the thankful post.

It is weird to look at the calendar that hangs on our bedroom wall and realize that our time in Spain is well over half-way through.  Stranger yet to think that in less than 2 months Zach and I will be on another plane, one bound for Guatemala. What a crazy year this is! Incredibly grateful for it. If anyone would have told me 5 years ago that my 22^nd year of life would have taken such a twist, I would have said SHUT. UP.

I’m noticing an I’m Thankful For trend that’s spread over facebook lately. That’s pretty cool, I guess. I’m convinced that a heart full of thankfulness opens up the windows of heaven, the door to His treasures— true riches like joy, and peace. Gratitude enables me to perceive God more clearly and to rejoice in the all-fulfilling relationship we have together. I have a HUGE list of thankfuls; they seem countless—as I know yours are too! My number one is for the life I know in Christ and the glorious adventure He has taken me on as His follower. Life in Christ means He is always doing something new in me. Now, that can be exciting, and that can also be scary! But if it means getting to know Him in greater depth and breadth, then heck yes Jesus, show me the way.

Other things I’m grateful for lately:

·         The best friend I have in Zachary. What’s more is that we’re also lovers. Lucky me:)

·         Rain boots and my umbrella, as it’s been raining almost every day for a couple of weeks.

·         Health! Besides some upset stomachs here and there, we haven’t fallen ill once on this trip.

·         Diverse people that color our planet and teach us things we'd otherwise have been blind to had we not stepped outside our front doors.

·         The hard things, the struggles, the questions. All these shape me and give me opportunity to give up my control and instead, trust.

·         Puppies.

·         The fact that Christmas is right around the corner which means GOING HOME to heated houses and sugar cookies and the faces and embraces of the people we love fiercely.

·         America and Obama and all our other leaders.

·         All the opportunities to hear and practice Spanish every day.

·         Having a job in Spain!

·         Time. I have so much time. Some days it gets annoying, but I’ve learned to see it as a gift from God. In my spare time I’ve got to read so much! For my own interests, too, not just textbooks—hallelujah.

·         Grace. I’ve needed a lot of that lately.

Woohoo! That felt good. Being thankful is actually super fun. And it is impossible to spend too much time thanking and praising Him. After all, that’s what we were first and foremost created for! To glorify Yahweh.

Peace, amigos! Thanks for tuning in.

Kristen