Just got back from a six country (5 not counting Vatican City) 15 day trip. I'm very tired do to lack of sleep and the wear and tear of traveling. I feel incredibly blessed to be able to have done something like that. Seeing and experiencing the cultures and sites of: Rome, the Swiss Alps, Stuttgart, Berlin, and Paris has just been incredible. I'm blown away by God's provision and protection. My mind has been opened to the world, however, right now it is a mess of flowing thoughts and dreams.
Nine months in Spain has changed the foreign to the norm and has left me wondering what I will return to when I arrive in the U.S. I know I have changed. I believe I am bolder, more capable, more grateful for what I have, and this time away has only increased my desire to see the rest of the world. Coming back to the States as many of my friends finish high school and begin to head off to college, myself included, has left me wondering how my world will change. As many people have told me, people will begin to drift away I will begin to see which young life friends remain. I know this sounds cynical but this is most likely the truth. The roads of life intersect, cross, and then diverge and I guess I'll see who has the same destination.
This afternoon I tried to get my mind around the reality of my return. Nine hours before my flight I still can't fully comprehend it all. I've been anticipating my arrival at the PDX airport ever since I've arrived and seeing my family in person for the first time in nine months, but after that first reunion I can't see what will come.
The goodbyes to my friends in Spain have gone as well as can be expected. I'm horrible at saying goodbye and am sure I'm not the only one who can say that. Here's a composition I wrote two months ago as I began to anticipate my move from my host mom's house.
Hello Goodbye – Ariel Wai (April 28, 2009)
Arrival at the airport.
A breaking of a heart.
A whole new world,
Laughing from the start.
Long walks of desperation,
Calling out through it all.
Tear on first Sunday.
Dawn breaking through the dark.
Led through tile jungles,
By a Colombian guide.
Movies on a Saturday,
Joy building inside.
Dull pains keep coming,
Crushed out by a high,
Of skating on ice.
Holy Spirit by my side.
Time to leave the old new.
Awake late at night.
Just said hello,
Now it’s time to say goodbye.
The first step off the plane at the Portland international airport tomorrow is the period in the last sentence of my Spanish adventure. The second step is capital letter of the first sentence in the next adventure. The future is wide open. I am excited. I cannot see what will come but all I want to do is remember the past; anticipate the future; and live, breathe, and thrive in the present.
I'm coming home.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Ireland
I'm back in Madrid after a four-night trip to Ireland. Before boarding the plane I was hoping for dreary, cold, foggy, drizzly weather (for most Oregonians that sounds crazy, but remember that it's been hot and dry in Madrid for the past month or so). When I got there it was sunny, however, I didn't mind because it had the clean air feeling...not the 6 million person city, nasal drying, weather in Madrid (it's actually not that bad :).
I arrived on a Saturday afternoon and spent the rest of the day as well as Sunday walking the city from top to bottom and back again seeing all the popluar tourist sites. That first Saturday I felt kind of weird, not sick, not uncomfortable, but something was out of place. After a couple hours I realized what it was - it was that everybody was speaking English and all the signs were in my native language! It took me a while to adjust; if I happened to bump into somebody I would say "perdoname" or "lo siento" instead of "excuse me" or "sorry".
Monday I went to Bray - a little town on the Irish Sea. From there I hiked along the coast to Greystone where I went swimming; the water was quite cold! Tuesday I went to a National Park and monastery called Glendalough (oddly pronounced: 'glen-duh-lok'). I hiked past two lakes and loads of tourists/vacationers, past an old mine, and then scrambled up a staircase of small pools and falling water. Near the top I was startled by a few deer standing close by watching me. They weren't scared so I took the opportunity to take some shots (with a camera, I didn't have a gun with me). I was able to get within 25 feet or so of them. Later I swam in one of the pools and it was surprisingly warm.
Here are some pics:
Maritime Festival
St. Patrick's Cathedral
I arrived on a Saturday afternoon and spent the rest of the day as well as Sunday walking the city from top to bottom and back again seeing all the popluar tourist sites. That first Saturday I felt kind of weird, not sick, not uncomfortable, but something was out of place. After a couple hours I realized what it was - it was that everybody was speaking English and all the signs were in my native language! It took me a while to adjust; if I happened to bump into somebody I would say "perdoname" or "lo siento" instead of "excuse me" or "sorry".
Monday I went to Bray - a little town on the Irish Sea. From there I hiked along the coast to Greystone where I went swimming; the water was quite cold! Tuesday I went to a National Park and monastery called Glendalough (oddly pronounced: 'glen-duh-lok'). I hiked past two lakes and loads of tourists/vacationers, past an old mine, and then scrambled up a staircase of small pools and falling water. Near the top I was startled by a few deer standing close by watching me. They weren't scared so I took the opportunity to take some shots (with a camera, I didn't have a gun with me). I was able to get within 25 feet or so of them. Later I swam in one of the pools and it was surprisingly warm.
Here are some pics:
Maritime Festival
St. Patrick's Cathedral
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Sports Passion or Idol Worship
I just got back from a two day trip to Barcelona. First of all the city is amazing, probably the nicest city I've visited so far in Spain. I was able to go all over it thanks to "bicing", a system of transportation composed of various bicycle stations located all over the city. To use the bikes one must slide a card over a scanner, the scanner checks the card and then unlocks a bike, you can then use the bike for two hours and when time is up you can lock it up again in any of numerous stations throughout the city. I visited Gaudi's "Sagrada Familia", a massive cathedral that has taken over 100 years in constructing and still isn't finished. It is, in Gaudi's words, a true "work of the centuries", with very different construction techniques used, contrasting elaborate facades, but all in line with Gaudi's original drawings. I was also able to go to the Mediterranean beaches.
However, I think the most interesting experience I had was the chance to go to Catalunya Plaza and La Rambla to celebrate with Futbol Club Barcelona fans after the team vanquished Manchester United in the Champions Leaque final. The 2-0 defeat was a landmark victory not only because it crowned Barcelona as the European football champions for the 3rd time, nor even because it was their second crown in four years, but because they won the three biggest European/Spanish titles: the King's Cup, The League, and finally the Champions League, a feat never before accomplished.
As you can imagine, the festivities were...well, lets just say crazy. In a matter of minutes it seemed like the entire city flooded the streets. I arrived about 20 minutes after the game finished and thousands were already there. Fans stretched out literally as far as the eye could see (even from the shoulders of a friend), for kilometers and kilometers; I later read that over 100,000 people had filled the streets. People were singing, chanting, climbing trees, lamp posts, magazine stands, traffic lights, anything and everything. Fireworks were being lit off in the middle of it all. Someone would light one off and people would scramble for safety, the firework would explode and shower sparks into the crowd, then people would return to their spot to continue. Fountain fireworks were being lit and waved around in the air, also showering fans with hot sparks. The celebrations loomed on the edge of rioting until 30 minutes after I returned to a friend's house, when around 1:30am, the fans turned into vandals.
I read in the newspapers that around 100 people began throwing cans and bottles towards police and the press. This resulted in bruises/contusions as well as the police trying to disperse the crowd. At 2:00 am I had to walk to the bus station to go to the airport. This shouldn't have been a problem, however, I took a wrong turn and began walking towards the celebration grounds. After a couple blocks I noticed something out of the ordinary - maybe over a thousand fans running in my direction. I stopped and positioned myself close to a building. I asked one of the people passing me what was happening, from the quick words and motions that he made I figured out that the celebrations had gotten out of control and the police were shooting rubber bullets. I could hear something like little explosions or gunfire which could have been two things (1) the fireworks of fans, or(2) gunfire. I decided it was a little bit of both because (1) the thousand fleeing people, and (2) the sirens. I did an about face and started quickly walking in the direction I had just come from. Two big police vans passed me as people ducked behind cars, crouched down, and covered their heads - fortunately these police weren't shooting. I asked a passerby for directions to the bus station, she said that I could go with her because she lives close by, but she told me how to get their "just in case" (I'm assuming she meant in case the police came and tried to detain her friend who was a occupied smashing the screen of an ATM machine with a rock). I decided I probably wasn't with the best company so I said thanks and quickly headed off towards the station. On the way I passed hooligans tipping over massive garbage bins, draining their systems of the alcohol, overturning potted plants and smashing the pots. Throughout all of this I realized I was being watched over from a light from above, well two, (1) God who was protecting, guiding, and keeping me sane, and (2) a police helicopter with a search beam. After 40 minutes of excitement I arrived at the bus station.
Now, relating to the title of this blog: how could all this happen? I mean, what could draw together 100,000 people? What does it mean when your average Joe climbs 25 feet up a small monument, rips off his Barcelona jersey, and waves it to the masses, as people look on, cheer, and begin to climb as well? Why does passion for a sports team culminate in the firing of rubber bullets? Why did the night end with 134 arrests and 159 fans and 89 policemen in need of medical attention? This may sound like I'm bashing on sports aficionados, and I really don't want to. I enjoy it when my football team wins, but when does love for a team turn into idol worship?
However, I think the most interesting experience I had was the chance to go to Catalunya Plaza and La Rambla to celebrate with Futbol Club Barcelona fans after the team vanquished Manchester United in the Champions Leaque final. The 2-0 defeat was a landmark victory not only because it crowned Barcelona as the European football champions for the 3rd time, nor even because it was their second crown in four years, but because they won the three biggest European/Spanish titles: the King's Cup, The League, and finally the Champions League, a feat never before accomplished.
As you can imagine, the festivities were...well, lets just say crazy. In a matter of minutes it seemed like the entire city flooded the streets. I arrived about 20 minutes after the game finished and thousands were already there. Fans stretched out literally as far as the eye could see (even from the shoulders of a friend), for kilometers and kilometers; I later read that over 100,000 people had filled the streets. People were singing, chanting, climbing trees, lamp posts, magazine stands, traffic lights, anything and everything. Fireworks were being lit off in the middle of it all. Someone would light one off and people would scramble for safety, the firework would explode and shower sparks into the crowd, then people would return to their spot to continue. Fountain fireworks were being lit and waved around in the air, also showering fans with hot sparks. The celebrations loomed on the edge of rioting until 30 minutes after I returned to a friend's house, when around 1:30am, the fans turned into vandals.
I read in the newspapers that around 100 people began throwing cans and bottles towards police and the press. This resulted in bruises/contusions as well as the police trying to disperse the crowd. At 2:00 am I had to walk to the bus station to go to the airport. This shouldn't have been a problem, however, I took a wrong turn and began walking towards the celebration grounds. After a couple blocks I noticed something out of the ordinary - maybe over a thousand fans running in my direction. I stopped and positioned myself close to a building. I asked one of the people passing me what was happening, from the quick words and motions that he made I figured out that the celebrations had gotten out of control and the police were shooting rubber bullets. I could hear something like little explosions or gunfire which could have been two things (1) the fireworks of fans, or(2) gunfire. I decided it was a little bit of both because (1) the thousand fleeing people, and (2) the sirens. I did an about face and started quickly walking in the direction I had just come from. Two big police vans passed me as people ducked behind cars, crouched down, and covered their heads - fortunately these police weren't shooting. I asked a passerby for directions to the bus station, she said that I could go with her because she lives close by, but she told me how to get their "just in case" (I'm assuming she meant in case the police came and tried to detain her friend who was a occupied smashing the screen of an ATM machine with a rock). I decided I probably wasn't with the best company so I said thanks and quickly headed off towards the station. On the way I passed hooligans tipping over massive garbage bins, draining their systems of the alcohol, overturning potted plants and smashing the pots. Throughout all of this I realized I was being watched over from a light from above, well two, (1) God who was protecting, guiding, and keeping me sane, and (2) a police helicopter with a search beam. After 40 minutes of excitement I arrived at the bus station.
Now, relating to the title of this blog: how could all this happen? I mean, what could draw together 100,000 people? What does it mean when your average Joe climbs 25 feet up a small monument, rips off his Barcelona jersey, and waves it to the masses, as people look on, cheer, and begin to climb as well? Why does passion for a sports team culminate in the firing of rubber bullets? Why did the night end with 134 arrests and 159 fans and 89 policemen in need of medical attention? This may sound like I'm bashing on sports aficionados, and I really don't want to. I enjoy it when my football team wins, but when does love for a team turn into idol worship?
Friday, May 22, 2009
The Next Chapter in My Life
I attended my last class in Spain May 8th. May 11th I moved out of my house in the small little neigborhood of La Navata and into Madrid city center - the heart of Spain. I'm staying in the room of a good friend from church who is in Puerto Rico right now. There are two other guys here right now, Esteban and Arnold. Things are going great. I went to Valencia, a city on the Mediterranean, last week and this Monday I head off to Barcelona. The 30th of May I head up to Dublin, Ireland to go leprauchan hunting.
I think the best thing so far about living in Madrid is the freedom. Freedom to move around the city with such ease and not have to wait forever for buses or trains to come. Freedom to stay out late and not have to call my exchange agency for permission to spend the night at a friends place. Freedom to eat what I want...which also means I have to cook, which isn't to bad, except when I don't feel like cooking. Freedom to wake up at 11:20am, leave for church at 11:29am, and arrive on time a 11:30am; this is so much nicer than traveling around an hour and a half to get to church and back every Sunday. Freedom to wear what I want...I could wear what I wanted before but in the smaller towns surrounding Madrid you stand out a lot more if you're different. Freedom to travel around Europe. Freedom to live, hope, love...:p
Here are some pics of Valencia's art and science center and of my church that meets in a night club on Sunday mornings.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
New Address
Hey everybody, I'm moving out of my house in the outskirts of Madrid because I'm finishing up my exchange program this Sunday (I won't be returning though until the 26th of June). I'll be moving in with some friends from my church. My new address is:
C/ Joaquin Maria Lopez, 20
Madrid (Madrid) 28015
Spain
I'll have to look which floor I'll be in, so if you send mail to this address, right now it'll just go to the building and not get put in my mailbox, I'll update this when I found out the exact floor. This is just a heads up to not send mail to my old address.
C/ Joaquin Maria Lopez, 20
Madrid (Madrid) 28015
Spain
I'll have to look which floor I'll be in, so if you send mail to this address, right now it'll just go to the building and not get put in my mailbox, I'll update this when I found out the exact floor. This is just a heads up to not send mail to my old address.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Way Too Close.
What this guy is doing is what all the performers would try and do - get as close to the bull without getting gored. After this happened he hopped out of the ring, then hopped back in to wave to the crowd. Even though he got closer to the bull than any other performer he still only revcieved third place, to the shouts of dissaproval from the fans. He later walked out of the ring when the first place trophy was being delieverd. Good performer - sore loser. (Try watching this in slow-motion if possible).
Wow! And I thought a backflip off the diving board was scary! I can't believe he only got 5th place!?!
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