Cat in the Boiler

Not sure how to wrap up the last few days, I should have blogged better. I got into Spain and into Santiago just fine. During the 30 hours that was the trip, there is a lot of time to worry and think of the what ifs. What if I dont get in? What if they ask about the UK stamp in my passport, the one with the giant X through it? What if I get in but the ryanair flight I bought is only for Europeans OR the boarding pass I had Ania print me in Poland doesnt work because ITS IN POLISH? And if all of these work out, what if Iria isnt at the airport to pick me up? What do I do then?

Needless to say, I got in, got the ryanair flight and Iria was at the airport. I live in As Pontes, its a small town almost near A Coruna. We eat fish twice a day. I dont eat fish but have always said that I would eat what was put in front of me when a guest in someones house, and so I have. I am not picky, I´ll eat just about anything...or so I thought.

July in Spain is chalk full of festivals. San Juan is very cool, giant bonfires that burn all night long. Smaller fires are built for people to jump over, to cleanse people of evil spirits. San Juan is on June 25 (I think) the shortest night of the year. Beaches are full of people and their fires and you can always hear bagpipes(gaita). The next night was another festival for some catholic saint. We drove to Carlos´ brothers house, a dairy farm. It was amazing, the houses are all 100 plus years old, made of stone with slate roofs. Its incredible how similar their family is to mine in different ways but maybe everyone has that Uncle, the one that pokes and tickles, the trickster, the jokester. Everyone has the aunts who cook and dote on kids, and the grandmother with the plate of desserts who sends you home with Kinder Bueno bars. (score! these are my favorite candy bars, discovered in Ireland and not available in US) At the dinner table I dont know what is being said, but I laugh when others laugh, nod and look at speakers as if I totally understand. Anything said to me recieves the 'Si' response because thats all I can offer.

Carlos tells Cruz the story of how he asked me 'Would you like coffee?'

Everything said among family is spoken in the regional language of Galician, its a mix of Portugese and Spanish and I cannot understand.

I love that alcohol is always present but rarely drank. Carlos always drinks nonalcoholic beer and although white wine was on the table, everyone opted for water or Fanta. The only time I saw people drink was a little before lunch, and after dinner the my age kids drank before we went dancing at the fiesta. By the way, the boys know how to dance. Tengo and salsa kinda dance. Cruz, Iria and Dani's mother says all country boys know how to dance because its the only way to hang out with girls. And in the country there are many little festivals and fiestas and the boys have to know how to dance, at least the pasodoble, the regional two step. Carlos is a 50 year old country boy, always dancing.

With the help of Iria, I talked tractors with the cousins which was fun. They prefer John Deere, but I saw the neighbors bailing with Massey Ferg and I about spazzed. I´ve asked if I could come live and work on the dairy and they said they´d be happy to have me, so maybe this is where I´m bound after graduation. Must learn spanish. I´m learning a lot already, I´d love to be fluent. Iria and Dani often ask the difference between tough words like bitch and beach, shit and sheet, beer, bear and bird. Yesterday Iria asked me the difference in ´me too´ and ´so do I´ that was a tough one I had to think about.

Dani is 15 and loves to quote the Simpsons. He has taken to the phrase SHUT UP, after I corrected his ´SHUT UP YOUR MOUTH´. Sure wish I didnt teach him that because now he says it, and when I told him it was mean he says, ¨`Its a yoke! I am a yoker!¨`

Cant Go Back Now--The Weepies

The Weepies say "You cant go back now." I've always thought that phrase to simply be opinion. Theres always a way and I was going to find it no matter what it took...until tonight.

I walked home from the west tonight reminded of past memories that I cherish very much. I sat on the play place with three new friends talking of things that mattered the most to us. Very similar opinions and feelings were shared mostly about boys and how God fits into relationships with them. I looked to see Hazels old apartment. Here I had the choice, I could choose to delve into memories of her, the boys and Ireland, the night she, Jim and I sat in that very place and ate DQ. Or I could accept that that memory did in fact happen and that was life. Period. Moving on. No feelings attached, no heartache, no missing things, people or places. Knowing, acknowledging and realizing that I was on the play place, eating DQ with great friends in the present.

I walked by the boys appt. and had no feeling toward it. It was empty. They werent there.

I've met some really really great people here and I've made incredible memories, but thats all they are. Memories. Theres no sense in attempting to do it again. Theres no sense in trying so hard for something when God is begging you to listen and chill and take His way, the easy way, the one paved and set for you if you'd just stupid choose to trust it. But no. I want what I want and He can get on board if He likes...well thats been the previous attitude hasnt it?

Its difficult to let go of something so...desired. Especially when you have the power to make it happen. But it has to be done. The semester there was great. The semester with the boys was great...but its past, so lets dive into something more shall we?

Its easy to create your own way. There are so many routes in this life, and we are given the freedom and the most of us, the resources to make our dreams come true. So where does God come into that? When does His opinion get heard? Usually when you get deported and people say "Oh that wasnt meant to be."

Tonight one of the girls saw Jonah on my bible cover and said "Did you feel like Jonah when you were being held in the UK? Like they just spit you out?" Interesting. She went on to say that maybe I was told to go to Nineveh and went running the other way. And that great things can be done in our mishaps because that whole boat that Jonah was on got saved. Who knows what good would have been done if he went strait to Nineveh the first time, but the point being that our mishaps arent complete failures and they can be used.

I told how I was going on into Spain later in the month and didnt feel as though God were in that either, and it was another decision I'd made without Him...and He maybe even made me feel as though I shouldnt go but I really wanted to so I ignored it. And Lucy says "Do you feel like you're back here for a reason? Maybe you're supposed to be here." And I told her how difficult it was for me to tell now what was God and what was my own fear of being brought home again. "Well, if you're supposed to be here, by fish or by boat! You'll be here!" Beautiful. Just beautiful.

I can sit all day long and dream of what could have been and what I wanted to be...but what is the point when I am here now? There are people here. There is God here and he moved tonight. Its easy to forget that God, and friends with whom I can speak of spiritual things with are what I missed most when I was in IE.

I sat tonight in comfort with these girls knowing that we were on a level not everyone chooses to be on. A path quite narrow and I was blessed to have been in their acquaintance.

I want to say that its taken tonight to be able to say that I wouldnt go back if I could...but I think I still would. I'm happy to be here, that is true and I pray that someday I'm led back there but theres a peace in accepting that you cant go back now...and thats just fine.