If I had a million dollars...

(Said through clenched throat, with tears of joy brimming in my eyes)
I would give everyone I possibly could a gift certificate to Nia so that they too could experience the pure euphoria of dancing like a 3-year-old-through-the- sprinklers in a room full of strangers. And solve world hunger, of course. ;)

This is literally what was going through my head as I left Yoga Soup this afternoon. I could write a lot about how dance has been unjustly appropriated by the hip-hop or club culture and thus become a cause of self-consciousness or stress rather than freedom and unfettered joy...but this post is not about a soap box....

It's about play, laughter, movement, dizziness, feeling like a tribal warrior and a tiny spright, lacking all thoughts of self and feeling the music flow out of you. It's about dancing like no one is watching. It's about shared space that is free of expectations. It's super new-age and I don't even care. It's freedom.

I got this sweet battle-scar after last week's class and didn't notice it at all as I jumped and pranced around for over an hour:)





In all seriousness, if I had a million big ones I would give it to Opportunity International. But, that's a more serious post, for a more serious time.



Go dance.

It still feels like a new year...

I'd like to keep the "new year" mentality all year long. I love the constant feeling of being refreshed. A good long talk with an old friend can do that. A good long hike with wonderful women can do that. God's Word can do that...perhaps most poignantly of all.

Today, Britt spoke about the life of Noah and how it sheds light on our own lives of faith. It contained three simple, yet powerful tenants. And, he asserted--the order is everything.

Worship. We are created to worship our Father God and in all things give thanks to Him. Our sole purpose on this earth is to glorify His name. We must first, before all else, worship our Savior.

Walk. Part of the reason we worship God is because He has called us into relationship with Him. That in itself is an awe-inspiring concept (that might just take you back to worship:). We must daily commit ourselves to walking in faith. Whom we walk with is simple; we walk with the Lord. Our destination, is also simple; we are walking to be with Him for eternity, pressing on for the prize. The pace must be decided, but with an eternity mindset, because God is not in a hurry as we are. The path that we take is perhaps more clouded, but we are assured that He will prepare the way for us and walk with us, and the road map is spelled out in His word.

Work. We are then to approach His work, and position ourselves to be His hands, His mouthpieces, His imitators, on earth, while recognizing that He does not need us and that this too, is a privilege we have in being His children.

I love the simplicity of these three active perspectives. I want to orient my life to them. So, through many conversations and many examples set before me, I've decided to wake up an extra hour early every day to begin my day in worship, which can take many forms, and then in walking with the Lord in one concrete way (among many) and that is in reading His word. I want these two things to begin the day, instead of work. I am excited to see the fruits of this faithful discipline as many have. And simply, I am excited to come into a deeper relationship with Him every day.

A New Year

At the risk of being redundant (after all, my last post was a recap of 1/2 of 08)- here it is anyway...

2008.

Jan 1 on a plane to Europe. 2 bags. 6 months. Little to No plan.
Florence with Abby and Greg. Alex and Eduard, Italian aggression meets Italian hospitality. Delightful pair;)
Mara picking me up at the airport in Sevilla expecting a week-long visitor (may have under-communicated a tad).
Spanish immersion....complete with a Spanish cumpanero de piso.
10 day discoteca run.
Hiatus.
Moving out of the Spaniard's apartment.
Living life at high frequency with Miss Mara DeRitter.
Visiting adopted family, the Martins, in Portugal.
Carnival Part 1: Rota. U.S. Military Men.
Carnival Part 2: Cadiz. Mob mentality.
Teaching English to my sweet old men at La Guardia Civil.
Illegal employment by the government=quintessential irony of Spain.
Morocco. Riding camels into the Sahara. Camping with Berbers. Fez.
Semana Santa.
Learning to dance like a Sevillana.
KAITLIN and V. Eurotrip 08. Barcelona. Geneva. Marseille.
El Camino de Santiago.
Being adopted into a make-shift Span-Italian familia.
Cantabria with Paige and Deyl.
Homecoming.
Jill and Kevin get hitched.
Peripatetic summer, new home base: Santa Clarita.
Noah.
Homecoming Part 2: Back to SB.
The wonderful, rowdy Mollkoys.
Growing in my desire for more of God.
Children with Autism. Learning to work for a company.
Reality Carpinteria. Homegroup. Exploring ministry/missions.
Kacie and Greg get hitched.
Searching for my place here.
Growing up just a little bit more.
Settling into to a lower frequency.
Spontaneous trip to Denver for Katie B.
Brittany makes a comeback- Oaks 5 year reunion.

Resisting the urge to wander. Practiced Contentment.
Digging my heels in for a while.
Solitude. Communities.
Prayerful, Joyful Expectancy.


My goals for 2009 are still being worked out in my mind, but I know that they will include taking more calculated risks. Calculated is the more difficult of the two. I'm naturally prone to the obvious risks, so it's more of a risk for me to stay here and fight atrophy than to move to South America (for example). But, it is one I am willing to dig into and flesh out because I know there is real growth in that. And, while I know that having clearly delineated goals is one of the main keys to success (or how else do you measure it), I'm not sure I can make any hard and fast goals for myself this year that I don't already have as part of my modus operandi. I'm in the figuring it out, stretching myself period (and probably always will be)...so I prefer to have themes or schemata for my goals and bend and move from there...

There will definitely be a physical component. I've grown fond of training my body and in so doing, challenging my will, my mind, and my spirit. I'm open to suggestions...and training partners;)

There will be an educational component. Grad classes in Applied Behavior Analysis start next week and then...? All I know is I miss school and it's time.

There will be a financial/biz element. Learning about Commercial real estate and possibilities amongst the downward trend in the Residential market (under the tutelage of my sage uncle and precocious older brother). Astutely, carefully avoiding as many taxes as possible. Making personal and familial decisions around current and future investments. Still surreal. This is one of those things that makes me feel like I'm approaching the mid-twenties, because otherwise I could be 19 and I wouldn't know the difference.;)

There will be a ministry element. Further, and more specific investment in a church family, in community.

There will be a creative element. This has always been dance for me in the past, but I think it is time to broaden my horizons or recover that lost art. I might start writing. See what comes of it.

Really, I just like thinking about these things. I think on them often, but welcome the impetus that a new year can be for a fresh start. So here's to a surprising, challenging, joyous New Year!

Recap, Re-do, Revamp

The first word of this post is overly ambitious. It's what has kept me from blogging for all of these months (at least initially, then I'm pretty sure it turned into an avoidance/laziness routine). It's not easy to recapitulate the 4 weeks I spent walking across the breadth of Spain nor all that has transpired since, but I will do my best.

No, I am no longer on the Road to Santiago. I finished the 900 kilometer trek on June 5, making it exactly one month of walking across the beautiful, peaceful countryside of Espana. It was pain, beauty, history, camaraderie, awe, loneliness, contentment, independence, prayer, determination, indulgence, simplicity, conversation, crazy Italians, crazy Spaniards, a motley crew turned international family, dirty, smelly, blistered goodness. I loved the simplicity of it, the grueling physical aspect, the eccentric strangers and cute old couples, the time I spent with Kaitlin, and more time by myself than I had ever really experienced.

After the Camino I was able to spend a long weekend with Paige and Deyl in their Spanish cottage by the sea. There is no describing what a room to myself with sheets, a big bubble bath, and the comfort of two dear friends and a lot of food can bring after such a journey. These two are an absolute gift in my life.

What followed was a peripatetic summer, still living out of a backpack while traipsing all over California reconnecting with family and friends and patiently considering the possibilities.

The following months have been so full and blessed:

~ The Collins/Davy wedding.
~ Spending more time with my new Brady family.:)
~ Spontaneous camping trip with the delightful Franks.
~ Job searching.
~ Moving into my attached studio in SB and realizing that it had been 4 months since I spent more than 3 consecutive nights in any one place.
~ Freaking out a little.
~ Patch Project.
~ Spending some wonderful time with Noah.
~ Living and Loving Team Mollkoy (Chris & Michele and their exuberant boys, Jesse & Sammy--->).
~ Behavioral therapy with Children with Autism (random, intriguing, exhausting fun).
~ Reality Carpinteria.
~ Spencer-Smith/Hengler wedding in Napa.
~ Tuesdays with Rachel.
~ Thursdays with Paige.
~ Finding a new work-out buddy when my old ones got pregnant and got a man.;)
~ Becoming a camper again with Amy.
~ Being nearer to a fire than I ever hope to be again in my life and being heart-broken for the Westmont family, then being proud and inspired by it.

Which now brings me to the present order of business: Re-do. Revamp.

I believe that a six month hiatus from the world of blogging is an appropriate time to make some changes; the most obvious being the title of this blog. There are a number of reasons I have a distaste for the old one, but suffice to say, there are some fads and phases in this post-college exploratory period that, while necessary and good, I do not wish to be tied to.

I think of myself as a Working Title. I hope to always be such. I am in a place and a mindset where I hope to be the most malleable for God's work. It is a place of expectation, of readiness, of patience, and of earnest desire. It is a place of vulnerability, which makes it difficult to share, but one thing I have learned to appreciate so much in my time abroad, in constantly meeting and talking with new people, is that our stories always seem to instruct and edify one another in the most surprising ways. I think they all, in some way, deserve to be recorded and at times shared. It will not always be a soul-searching manifesto, for at times, the light and pithy are most appropriate.

And I will say again, with a virtual *nudge*, that comments are always appreciated. Especially those of the sassmuffin variety. ;)

Besos y abrazos a todo,

V.

The Road to Santiago

One of the reasons that I decided to move to Spain was to have the chance to do El Camino de Santiago. This historic pilgrimage marks the way to the entombed body and relic of St. James the Apostle, buried in the famous Cathedral in Santiago...just less than 800 kilometers from the traditional starting point on the French side of the Pyrenees mountains- St. Jean Pied-de-Port.

I had planned to do this pilgrimage sola, but by God's amazing timing and unexpected plan, my dear friend Kaitlin decided to quit her job, join her mom on a brief sojourn in Italy, and then explore the north of Spain with me! She is going to travel with me and do the first two weeks, which will no doubt be the hardest. Kaitlin and I are wonderful opposites in a lot of ways, which makes her the perfect compliment to my journey. I told my dad last night that he could rest easy, I have a faithful perfectionist by my side. We have calendars, maps, itineraries, passport copies, a security belt...all her! I plan to throw it all out the window on our first train, but shh...don't tell.

We are off to Barcelona today, then to Geneva, and across the south of France (Marseille, Bayonne) before reaching the starting point. It's amazing that I had time at all to blog today, and it is no doubt my hastiest attempt yet. We leave in one hour and I am not done packing!!

It's all part of the adventure...

I will be largely incommunicado over the next six weeks, so do not fret if you do not hear from me. Besos a todos! :)

"Sevilla tiene un color especial"

Call Andalusia old-fashioned, unproductive, over-indulgent, if you will...as I sometimes do when the "siesta" cramps my consumer habits, when the "bar creatures" in the Guardia Civil never cease to hit on me when I duck in to use the bathroom, or when I order vegetables and they inevitably come doused in oil or deep-fried...but this week, no one can complain!


At midnight last Monday, thousands of Sevillianos and extranjeros braving the rain and ferocious winds, huddled together drinking rebujitos in one great botellón, for the traditional lighting of the Portada. With a marching band playing rambas and flamencos, the group surged forward to pass through the huge entranceway, newly designed and constructed every year to welcome you to FERIA de Abril!!

For 10 months of the year the Feria grounds are a wasteland and an occasional parking lot for big city-wide events, but two months before this particular week the crews begin constructing row upon row of little houses called casetas, each owned by different companies, member associations, or wealthy families. The casetas are elaborately decorated, inside and out, with wallpaper, antique mirrors, classic Feria posters, furniture, stages, full-service bars, kitchens, and bathrooms. They are arranged in a huge grid that runs more than 7 street blocks, with street names and barrios of their own.

Going to the fair is anticipated all year long. Dirt floor, carnival rides, circus animals, greasy food, bad weather, or not...you dress up for Feria. The women come in elaborate, colorful flamenco dresses, with flowers and dazzling combs on top of their heads and matching mantoncillos around their shoulders. The men traditionally wore bull-fighter style suits (as Feria also marks the beginning of bull-fighting season), but for a long time now have donned a classic suit and tie, unless, that is, they are one of the privileged few who ride a horse to the fair, as this age-old tradition requires the age-old attire!






Feria is one huge flamboyant, clamorous, lively, spectacle...yet, somehow, elegant and refined. The majority of casetas are private, which means invite-only. You must know a member of these casetas to be allowed in. Luckily, between all of us girls, we had plenty of invitations and were usually allowed to bring the group. Mara also brought me along to meet her host families from her study-abroad days in their casetas.





Each caseta is filled with families, friends, co-workers, neighbors, all drinking and eating and dancing the night away. This is a very special moment for Sevillanos, who don't often have the opportunity to entertain all of their gente in one place as the majority of them live in pisos no where near large enough for parties such as these.








Mara and I spent the last two months taking private Sevillanas dancing lessons with a Spanish friend, spending hours agonizing over which dress to buy (they average around 200euro), and carefully choosing our accessories....we were ready. We dazzled the Sevillanos at each caseta we attended with our confidence and ability and were the envy of many the extranjero, who only wished they had the movement in their sangre, as we seemed to have. We were at times mistaken for Sevillanas, which brought immediate grins to our faces and unavoidably betrayed our true identities. We danced until six in the morning the last three nights of Feria and wrapped up the whole experience by eating churros with chocolate sauce in the street, as all of the exuberant Spaniards do in the wee morning hours of Feria.















Having experienced it, in all it's authentic, joyful, glory...I will now dare to say, there is nothing I love more about Sevilla than Feria! Hasta el proximo...Ole'!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A glossary for my readers...:)

"Sevilla tiene un color especial" ~ title of popular song (and expression)
extranjero ~ foreigner
rebujito ~ traditional Feria drink of Manzanilla (sherry) and 7up
botellón ~ gathering and drinking in the street, think "tail-gate"
portada ~ façade
feria ~ fair
caseta ~ stand, stall
barrio ~ neighborhood
mantoncillo ~ flamenco shawl
gente ~ people
piso ~ apartment
Sevillanas ~ regional version of flamenco dancing
sangre ~ blood
Hasta el proximo ~ Until next time

Alpujarra Adventure

I think I have become more of an outdoorsy person than I was before moving to Sevilla. I have always enjoyed a numerous amount of outdoor activities, but I'm talking outdoorsy, like escape to a mountain town, spend hours without a soul in sight (unless you believe animals have souls because there were plenty of those), not showering for days, woodsy kind of "outdoorsy." I crave the outdoors like I never have before and only there do I feel free, at peace, and refreshed.


That's what last weekend was. I took a bus to Granada (a beautiful city with a
Moroccan/Berkeley feel to it that I will describe more another time) and hitched another bus a few hours later to La Alpujarra. This is a region in the snow-capped Sierra Nevada mountains with tiny pueblos blancos nestled up into the hillside, home to many an ex-pat of the fruit and nut or British mutton eating varieties. Unbeknownst to me, I had booked a hostel for the night in the farthest town possible, which meant a three and a half hour windy bus ride through all the villages. I am so glad for this hasty travel blunder because it meant that I got a 6euro tour through the quaint and pristine countryside.

Arriving in Trevelez much later than I expected, I hiked (seriously, it was a 20 minute straight up hike) to my hostel in Barrio Medio and pounded on the caretakers' door just as twilight faded over the hills. I was greeted by a boisterous bickering British couple, who ushered me in, lit my heater, showed me every function and every nook and cranny of my little apartment, teasing each other mercilessly in the process, and thoroughly entertaining me. I was sad to let them go.

After getting settled in I went up the hill to Barrio Alto to have a look at the whole town and then popped in to a bar where I sat and had a beer and free tapas (courtesy of this region of Andalusia that has yet to commercialize the tradition) and then up to the restaurant for a lovely meal. I was surrounded on all sides with middle-aged British couples and realized in the process just how strange it feels to hear English as the common language in a public place.

The next day I woke up early, packed a bag with fruit and nuts (I'm not the mutton eating kind...;) and head up into the hills. I could see snow at the top of the mountain above me and decided I was going to touch it, which is actually quite silly because it was way further than it appeared as I found out as I reached the first crest. My disappointment quickly dissipated as I came face to face with a handful of wild horses...or what I thought were wild until the next surprise visitors appeared. Well, actually, I heard them before I saw them. Clink clink, clink clink. A curious sheep stuck it's head up and stared me down, the big bell around it's neck silencing for those brief moments of examination. The sheep quickly became disinterested in me and went back to its grazing. I walked amongst them for some time and sat on a rock outcropping for a while taking in the expansive valley, still hazy with morning light and dew.
I could hear church bells from down in Trevelez and realized it was Sunday. Since moving to Spain I have often missed worshiping in church as I did at home, but today, I decided to do it, with no one but God and the animals listening. The wind stole my voice and pressed at my body as I stood on the precipice looking out over "all the mountains and the valleys of the earth." I couldn't imagine a better service. I finished up with a scary yoga-balancing act and continued on my way.

As I walked back down the mountain I began to follow the canals of water that the town had created to direct the run-off from the mountain snow. It led me all the way back to where I started at a community fountain, with crisp, refreshing, mountain spring water. One of the cool things about the town was that everywhere you walked in the streets you could hear the sound of running water under you. It was so awesome to see a natural life-sustaining process.

I left Trevelez completely refreshed, in more ways than one. And, an added benefit...I gained a new smell! The funny thing is, I don't know what it is. All I can describe it as is "mountainy" because I can't place it otherwise...it might be a tree, or an herb, but whatever it is, it's nature and I was so happy to smell it! :)