Friday, October 20, 2006

home sweet home

There is a list in my little Van Gogh/Hemingway-esque moleskin notebook that I now (very appropriately, of course) carry around of different aspects of life abroad, specifically here in Spain that I would like to comment upon. I think, however it will be better to do so in pieces.

I find it appropriate to begin with maybe a more detailed (yes, long) version of how I secured a "humble abode" in which to abide. :) - An aside, I'm having trouble concentrating on writing this now, because there is currently a television show called "El precio justo" (aka "The Price is Right") on in the background, complete with a large spinning wheel, the Spanish version of "come on dooown" ("al jugaaaaar"), and its own shady looking host (see foto to the left). - Anyway... as I was saying.

So I left Lexington on October 1, arrived in Sevilla October 2, went to Granada October 3 to go to a pointless meeting which I loosely refer to as an "orientation" which failed to orientate on October 4, and then returned to Sevilla that night. On October 5, I first went to my school in Almonte , and by October 6 I knew (a) that living in the small town of Almonte would not satisfy and (b) that a kind group of professors who carpool the one way, one hour distance from Sevilla to Almonte was willing to include me.

October 6 marks the beginning of my ten day intensive search for a piso. Now to look at this time now, it's easy to think "ten days... no pasa nada"... but mind you... these were ten days, each with no end in sight. Not gonna lie, not a lot of eating nor sleeping happened during this period of time... no seriously, it didn't. I only hope that these words that follow can just begin to capture the immense desperation I in which I lived for those ten days which consisted of the following (and I refrain from exaggeration here in order to accurately portray my search):

- 4 websites which I check religiously (1 which was on an hourly if not half-hourly basis)
- no less than 30 different pisos whose owners I called and spoke with in Spanish
- no less than 50 euros spent on charging my phone to make said phone calls (all of which were clearly in vain)
- 4 hours spent walking around a certain areas looking for leads
- an estimated 10 hours (at least) spent in transit while physically going and looking at pisos
- 1 anuncio advertising my personal desperation to the world around me
- 1 pathetic email begging other "auxiliares" in my program living in Sevilla if they had any leads
- 3 pisos who agreed to meet me and then canceled I'm pretty sure because I'm American
- 4 pisos I actually visited in the flesh (two of which were with sets of two guys, one set that was super sketchy)
- 1 piso that I found out I had accidently agreed that I intended to buy (thank you, language barrier)
- 1 piso where I couldn't figure out why these two French girls wanted to share the same bed until they told me they were a couple... oooohhhh, I'm dumb.

Now, when I came back from my "orientation" in Granada, I spent the night with Beth, a friend of a friend in Lexington who is also in my program and who was temporarily living with two Spanish girls (Mari and Sylvia) before the couple who was living in her piso moved out and a friend of one of the girls moved into the room in which she had been staying. (Got it? That's confusing.) Anyway, the original plan was to spend the night once on her couch... or maybe the duration of the weekend, tops, before I found my own piso. Well, one night turned into two, then three, and so on, and I began worrying that my constant presence on their couch in the middle of their living room everynight, not to mention my three large suitcases in their foyer, was beginning to bother them, especially with no hope of a sign of my leaving. On the fourth day, Sylvia, out of the blue, told me "calm down, sweetie, you don't need to suffer, God has a place for you, and until then you are more than welcome to live with us, you already have a house in the mean time." We were walking down the street. I started to cry.

Now, during this time I went through periods of being positive, hopeful, and secure about the fact I would find a place to live, but it was very difficult to prevent my desperation from turning into utter discouragement and depression. On day 6, I had my first true breakdown (which I think was pretty good that I held out that long, considering the circumstances), crying into my journal and a few psalms, after which I had my first truly good night of sleep.

At that point, I began emailing people and begging them for prayers for my getting a piso. I had spent much time this past summer with some amazing people praying for my time in Spain, specifically where I was going to live, and during this time God was definitely beginning to answer prayers that we prayed (such as for friends and a community), but that of a piso was going unanswered. Beth told me that at meals when I was at school and she was home with Mari and Sylvia, that they would pray for my finding a piso as well.

On about day 8 of the search, Beth and I sat down on the couch with Sylvia who noticed we both looked pretty down, and she called Mari in the room with us. We all began talking and realized that each one of us was in what I fondly call "a funk" for different reasons. Beth was missing her family in the states, Sylvia was missing hers in Barcelona (she's only lived here for 2 months), Mari was something, and I, of course, was bummed about not having a piso. Well, our talk turned into a therapy session complete with cheetos, chocolate cookies, and coke and ended with us discussing the characteristics we want to see in our future husbands (funny how girls are girls no matter what country in which you live.)

So day 10 arrived, and I decided to bust out my journal and re-read many of the prayers I prayed about Spain and many of the talks I heard from very educated, respected speakers while out at the ranch. I felt very impressed to just focus on what God had done since I'd been in Spain, thank him for that, try to be joyful in the midst of my circumstances, and remain as trusting as I could. I sat down and wrote out exactly what God had done for me and for what was left that I was asking for. I also decided to be brave and boldly ask that God provide a piso for me that day. Well, that day I enviously moved Beth out of this piso and into her permanent one and spent the rest of the afternoon on the internet searching and calling. Then I decided that if I were gonna live as if I were trusting the Lord to provide, then I should do the things that I would do if I were already in my own piso that I hadn't done yet because I was just waiting... like running. So, I went on a run. Came back... still looking for pisos. It got to be about 11 at night, a little late (even for Spain) to find out anything from anyone about pisos.

About that point, my roommate Sylvia came home and checked her email on my computer. All the sudden she looked at me and asked, "Julie, if you could stay here in this piso, would you want to?" My answer: "hombre, claro" (translation: man, duh). And she explained how her friend had emailed right then, explaining that she felt that the Lord just really wanted her to stay in Barcelona where she was. At that point, the three of us each burst into tears, so excited. Then right there on our couch we prayed together and thanked GOD that I had a place to live!! I didn't even think this was an option, but Mari said she had just been thinking that I could stay if Sylvia's friend didn't come and almost suggensted that I move my bags into that room.

Needless to say, I now have a lovely Spanish piso with small, functional little room that I LOVE. (I've taken two about 5 hour trips to IKEA to get things for it, but that is a story for a different blog... as well as thoughts on pisos in general.) But I wanted to include a few pictures of my oh so cherished, newly decorated room. The walls are a light orange and two of the pieces of furniture (a large wardrobe and desk/table thing) are both bright red. I had no idea what to do color-wise, so I just decided to bring in blue and did a blue comforter, blue curtains, and blue little accents with candles and flowers here and there. These pictures can give you a little tast of what it looks like in kinda a 360 degrees fashion.

Well, hopefully soon I'll have pictures of the rest of the piso as well as Mari and Sylvia so you can see the absolute angels with whom I live. You know, what's ridiculous, when this whole process ended, I was almost a little sad (don't get me wrong, I was overwhelmed with relief), but there is something precious about being in a time of desperation (perhaps much more recognizable in hindsight). Also, for a time, I was just kicking myself for not having the foresight to come to Spain earlier and get a piso before I started work, but if I had done that, I would probably be living in the lost, tiny little town of Almonte rather than Sevilla and I wouldn't even know these amazing girls. It's crazy how this whole process worked out... from developing a friendship with them before moving in to the fact that Sylvia's friend didn't think to email until the day before she was supposed to arrive to say she couldn't come (which happened to be the day that I decided to boldly ask the Lord for a piso.) Wow. God is good. Simply.

1 Comments:

Blogger kevin said...

that was a good story...even if mildly long for one sitting.

7:48 AM  

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