As it is Christmas Day, and everything is shut down, it was an excellent day to do some updating. Yay! However, iPads are not very conducive to intense blog updating, so pardon the strangely positioned picture.

Now then, enjoy the photos of my sister's visit in Andùjar. I picked her up in Malaga, and we spent the day there, then headed to the countryside of Andùjar to camp out for a night with Spanish friends. It was an amazing weekend and so excellent to see Brittney. I had been feeling a bit down, and hanging with my big sister helped remind me to make make the most of my time here because it will pass so quickly! 

After living in Sevilla in a bit of a Guiri (non-Spaniard) bubble for three weeks, CIEE pushed me off a cliff (bought me a train ticket) and hoped I could fly (make it to Andújar without messing up too terribly). Apparently I picked up a bit more Spanish than I thought! Shout out to CLIC and Octavio, Sevilla’s coolest bilingual teacher! I successfully navigated the train to Andújar and hitched a ride from probably the only taxi that exists in this town. The taxi driver was super nice. His name is Francisco, and he gave me his card…just in case I ever don’t feel like walking the 15 minutes it takes to get from one side of town to the other on foot… 

Flash forward a month and a half - after living in the smallest possible hotel room for three days to moving to the #penthousepenthouse; I am finally starting to feel like a local. Except for the whole language barrier thing, being taller and blonder than all the ladies thing, and still not being able to go a day without my feet hurting from walking so much thing…whatever…I’m getting there. I have “my places.” The panaderia right down the street from my apartment that sells me fresh-from-the-oven bread in the afternoons, a gym membership that gives me access to classes with about 25 Spanish women and permission to use their outdoor track at any time, a weekly date with the other auxiliaries in Andújar to celebrate Wine/Whine Wednesdays, and my favorite café with a view of the Plaza de España to take in a coffee and people watch on a Friday morning. 

After a day full of wrangling children and speaking English at a glacial pace while trying to understand the most rapid, jargon-filled Spanish I have ever heard, I am mentally and physically exhausted. I’m pretty sure I never even used my brain this much in college! I have found that with all of the changes around me, developing a routine helps me feel more at home. Sometimes, this normalcy is my saving grace. Becoming a local is important to me to help me feel comfortable. I think I’m doing a pretty darn good job, y’all! 

Legit, CLIMB A MOUNTAIN.  
We’re talking inclines. Steep inclines. For six hours. Oh, and did I mention we left for the pilgrimage at 5am in order to beat the afternoon scorching sunshine? It's casual.

Lazy American Stereotype? Shattered. Boom.

After waking up at 4:30am to hike 22km to see a cool piece of Spanish culture only to hop on a bus at 2:00pm to go check out another cool piece of Spanish culture, you surely understand why I was completely un-Spanish and headed home at 1:00am to CRASH (See: PTFO). 
All in all, such an amazing weekend, and I am so thankful to have experienced it. 

Sorry for the crap picture quality. I'm going to do some editing of my favorites in the future. And, at the rate at which I post on this stupid blog, you'll probably see the finished products sometime in 2015. 

Chow! Besitos! 

If you know me at all, you know I’m still vaguely obsessed with the summer camp I worked at during my summers in college.

In order to be accepted to CIEE and the teach-abroad program, I needed letters of recommendation. I explained to Camp Carson’s director how my two summers at camp were what sparked my interest in moving abroad, and he wrote me an amazing recommendation. I can’t thank him enough for his help in getting me here.

A few weeks ago, Mark and Debra (the director and his wife), asked me to put together a written testimony and a video testimony explaining why Camp Carson is such a big deal to me and how my experience at camp influenced me to live abroad. I thought you might like to check it out! 

It has been over two years since I spent my last summer with Camp Carson, but I still talk about it every chance I get. Being the waterfront director at Camp Carson for two summers was probably the hardest, most stressful, amazing, fun time I have ever had. I went to camp every summer when I was a kid and remember thinking the counselors were like rock stars. I wanted to work at a camp just like them and teach other kids the way they taught me. When I had the opportunity to work for Camp Carson, I was most surprised to find as the counselor, I had so much to learn from the kids as well.

Summer camp is great because it allows kids to be 100% kids. And, that is somehow when some of the best growing up occurs. The adults in their lives aren’t there to lay down the ground rules. So, mud hikes? Ok! Singing silly songs and eating s’mores? Awesome! But also, learning to work together with your cabin group through problems and conquering your fear of reaching the top of the climbing tower or learning a new skill like archery? It all happens on your own! You push yourself to learn and achieve goals. And that is growing up if I ever saw it.

The best feeling as a counselor, in my opinion, is helping a camper do something new or helping the kids conquer an obstacle. I once had a camper climb to the top of the zip line tower every day, only to turn around defeated repeatedly. But, she was determined! After many pep talks, a few tears, and best of all – encouragement from her friends and cabin mates, on her last day, she did it! And then she did it again!  And again! It was so exciting to have been a part of her success.

I went to work at camp thinking I would have a fun summer just playing with kids. I was shocked to realize just how much I grew as well. Although I was the waterfront director, I was still about the same age as the rest of the staff. It was a great lesson in leading my peers, learning about the line between friend and boss, and how to balance those two roles. With such a small staff, you become like family. You are around each other 24/7, and as a result we helped each other through the good times and the bad. Camp creates a bond with friends that is impossible to find anywhere else. At camp, I met great friends from other countries, future sorority sisters, and a few confidants that to this day I know would be there for me in a heartbeat.

I currently live in Andújar, Spain, a small town about three hours south of Madrid, and I will be here until June 2014 working as an English Language and Culture Assistant in an elementary school through the government of Andalucía. How did I get here? Well, I was bitten by the adventure bug at Camp Carson. My two summers there were my first time venturing off truly alone, and when I arrived, I met people from all over the world! I found their bravery to move to a new country incredibly inspiring. The international staff is an integral part of Camp Carson because they help teach the campers about the world outside of the United States. They learn that families and other ways of life exist in other countries in a realistic way and not just what is shown on TV or in movies. At 21, this was a new experience for me as well. I had never really thought about the possibility of life anywhere else but the United States, and for that matter, Indiana. But, my summers at camp helped me realize new possibilities for my future. By the end of summer 2011, I knew I wanted to live abroad and experience a culture completely different from my own. Two years later, that dream is still alive, and I am living it! In the future, I hope to use my foreign language skills in the United States to continue to help children. Thank you, Camp Carson, for not only helping me develop my interest in mentoring kids but also for encouraging me to set high goals for myself and to work hard to achieve them. 

Hasta Luego from Spain! 

Tomorrow marks a month of life in Spain, and I feel like I just now can breathe and get comfortable in my new surroundings. But wait! Tomorrow I start my job as a language and culture assistant in an elementary school here in Andújar. Queue butterflies and overwhelming fear all over again.

Honestly, I’m really excited to start my job as a teacher.  A month and a half of basically being on vacation sounds awesome in theory, (And, yes, it was pretty awesome) but I’m ready to be a productive member of society again. I’m especially ready to be a part of something where I feel I am making a difference! Molding the minds of the future and all that. 

ANYWAY…back to the meat and potatoes of this post…

I am baffled by time. Some moments stand out so clearly in my mind and others pass in a blur. I did nothing exciting last Wednesday, therefore, did it really even happen?  I want to catch you all up on these last four weeks, but I am clueless on how to do it efficiently. There are so many stories! So then…settle in with a relaxing cup of café con leche (Spain joke...) because this post is gonna be a long one.

September 1 (Holy Cow, that was forever ago) 

My parents came to Indianapolis for a final hug goodbye and to take my beautiful, luxurious, 1998 two-door Cavalier back to Marion for the year. My sister and her friend drove me to the Chicago O’Hare Airport to catch my flight. I cried at security after my goodbye with Bree which is funny because I get to see her in seriously, like, three weeks. 

I was seriously in a panic at the gate. “You don’t speak Spanish. Why are you doing this? What if it sucks? Can I back out still?” And then, I ran in to my Grand Little’s best friend and fellow Phi Mu sister. What a ridiculous coincidence! (Thanks, Mary, Mary, and Martha for helping a sister out! LIOB) She was a freshman when I was a senior, but still! Seeing a familiar face somehow made me relax. She’s studying abroad in Sevilla for the semester, and we had the same flights. Great to have a travel buddy. 

A quick 8hr flight to Dusseldorf, Germany, then 2 hours to Madrid, Spain, and a final leg to Sevilla, and I HAD ARRIVED. 

HOLY SHIT, I'M IN SPAIN FOR THE NEXT NINE MONTHS. (Sorry, Mom, but I gotta tell it like I felt it.) 

I’m teaching abroad for the Junta de Andalucía (the government for the southern area of Spain called Andalucía) through an American program called CIEE. Through them, I spent my first three weeks in Spain in Sevilla, going through a week-long orientation process and a two week language immersion process where I lived with a host family and took Spanish classes daily with a school called CLIC. 

Anyone who has ever moved to a new school or gone to Summer Camp or done something when they’re suddenly thrown in to a group of strangers surely understands my next big worry. What if no one likes me? Yes, at 24, this is still a thing. Judge not, lest ye be judged. 

There were 35 people in my branch of the CIEE program, and, obviously my apprehension was silly. We got along great! (Shout out to you all! I miss seeing your faces every day) Orientation week was a blur of daily classes to discuss everything from teaching expectations to how to successfully find an apartment to rent once we moved to our new towns. And the nights were full of exploring Sevilla as one big, touristy group! 

The Friday of orientation week, September 6, we met our host families and moved to their homes for the next two weeks. But, not before we spent our Thursday night out like true Spaniards! Thanks to the three to five hour break in the middle of each day (Siesta), the Spanish day lasts well in to the night. Dinner is generally around 9:00pm, and if you're going out for the night, you linger at various tapas bars until 2:00am. No respectable person goes to a discoteca until after that. Don't even think about it! That night we traveled from El Sur for tapas and cocktails to Alfalfa for beer and chupitos to Bilindo, an outdoor discoteca complete with gogo dancers. Needless to say, when I dropped in to bed at 5:30am, I was beyond tired. How in the world would I ever get used to that lifestyle? 

With just a little time, a lot of tinto de verano (basically wine mixed with Sprite), and the help of my new friends, of course! 

Next time - Lost in Translation - my homestay adventure and my ongoing battle with the Spanish language!