What's the Scoop with the Poop?

You know when you move to a country with an open-mind, trying to accept everything as being "part of their culture," new, and somehow exciting because it's different? Well, you know how sometimes that just doesn't work out no matter how hard you try to accept it and just think of it as a cultural difference? That's exactly how I feel about the Spaniards tendency to let their dogs "caca" anywhere and everywhere they dang well please. Walking down the street is like playing a never-ending game of hopscotch, or a real-life version of Super Mario! Walk with your head up at your own risk! 

These dogs have the run of the mill over here, and it doesn't seem to phase many of the locals as much as I think it should. In the States, if someone doesn't have a little bag with them and pick up the poop of their dog from the sidewalk, you glare. You automatically categorize them as a douche or jerk, and hope they catch your scolding look. Here, it doesn't matter. Here, everyone does it.

In the total of 10 months I've lived in Spain (nine in the north in Bilbao, and now one so far here in the south in Sevilla), I have seen one person pick up their dogs poop (that I can remember), and it was a couple weeks ago. (Thank goodness too, because he had a German Shepherd, and those big dogs, man, they leave a nice pile for ya!) I've even watched people kick their dogs poop into the garden box where the tree grows on the sidewalk! But bend down and put it in the trash bin that's undoubtedly ten steps away? Not going to happen. I guess it can be explained by the fact that in many places they actually come through at night with high-pressure water sprayers and clean the streets, but not every single little street all over the city! Certain areas, sure, if it's going to be washed away by the morn', I suppose I can accept that, but in those areas where it will just sit and go through each and every phase of decomposition, and then still remain there, NO. Unacceptable. I just can't.

I have actually taken to avoiding certain parts of Mairena (the village that I am working in about 35 minutes outside Sevilla) because 10's of land mines is not on my "To-See In The Mornings" list. It's gross, and there's no other way to say it. I am not trying to turn you off to Spain, but just beware, if you come, pay attention where you're going. It's so hard, because you want to walk around with your head up, looking at all the splendor there is to see, but you also run the risk of returning to your sleeping quarters with some stanky feets.

I've even asked some locals, "Ok, so I just have to know, why is it that Spanish people let their dogs poop all over the sidewalks?" They didn't even know. It really is just a part of la vida Espanola. I think this explains a lot about humans in general and our behavior -- we do things, and we don't even know why. Could be anything. I know a lot of times I'll think, say, do, or want to do something, and think to myself, "Why? What the heck??" Human nature, gotta love it!

Today's Thoughts: Now I'm trying to think of things that people might go to our country and think, "I just don't understand why they do that." I'm thinking...obesity. And the tendency to live a tasteless life. ;-) Live it large, live it good, pay it forward, and as always... MAKE YOUR OWN REALITY! <3 

(Also, if anyone can shed some light on this grave mystery, please comment below. I'm always looking to understand those things that I don't, especially if you are coming from a local perspective! P&L)

Reflecting on the First Time

For almost two and a half years now I have been plotting how I would return to Spain. I was in Bilbao, Spain, from September 2009 through May 2010, living, studying, traveling, and learning. It was the best nine months that I could have hoped for, and since my tearful return to the U.S., I have thought almost daily about how I could go back and resume my European life and cultural expansion.

I still remember being on the plane coming home. The moment that we were above U.S. soil and I saw it and realized that I was really back, I started to bawl. I was heartbroken that the life I had created in Spain was now just a memory and a thing of the past, no longer my reality. It was a hard adjustment. Coming back to the life I had known to be mine, but trying to live it while feeling like a different person. Most everything around me had stayed the same while I was gone, but I had changed more than I could have imagined. I grew up, matured, expanded my horizons, and welcomed a global perspective and new way of thinking and living. I had visited seven countries, made friends from two or three times that many, and lived a life full of experiences rich in culture and knowledge that few are blessed with.

Thinking back on it all, it still seems like such a surreal time. I look at pictures and am reminded of all the great times I had, and great people that I met. They take me back to that time and place and I can see and feel everything from that moment. But then, weeks pass, and I forget about the experiences that I've had and the blessings that have been laid upon me. It's that feeling that has compelled me not to give up hope of returning to Spain and to a life full of travel, culture, interaction, and learning.

I seek a life full of adventure. A life with purpose. A life that benefits others and changes lives for the better. And that is what I will accomplish and find when I begin this next adventure to Spain. I want to get to know people, study how they live, learn what they do, and why, and assimilate myself to their culture. I want to get to know them, find out their greatest needs, and figure out innovative ways to help them. I know it's a curious path I desire to travel, but that is why I know it is the right one for me.

In 20 days I will on a plane, moving back to Spain. This time, I travel to Sevilla, a city where I know very few people. I will be embarking on this journey by myself, with only God to guide me. It is a terrifying thought, but also an exhilarating one, and one I welcome. My life might have been on a bit of a hold these past few months, but I know it's just because things are about to take off and all my manifestations are going to begin to take form. World, I hope you are ready for some change, because here it comes!

Today's Thought: As the time for me to board draws nearer, I am overwhelmed with a mix of emotions, but know without a doubt everything will be great. It is because I think this way, that it will be so. Remember to make your own destiny, make your own reality, and always manifest the best!

Awkward Moments Chapter 2: Umbrella Etiquette

Today we begin our second topic about awkward moments. Yesterday we talked about elevators, and today we move on to UMBRELLAS! 

Before I studied abroad in Spain I never took an umbrella anywhere with me. There was something about walking around in the pouring rain and getting drenched that I actually enjoyed at times, and couldn't be bothered to carry around an umbrella the rest. A hood was my defense mechanism of choice until I spent 9 months living in the Basque Country, where it rains about 70% of the time. So when you consider that I was there from September to May it breaks down to about 2 weeks of  sun when we got there, 3 weeks before I left, and random sunny, beautiful, beach days scattered in between. Now don't get me wrong, that isn't to say it's not a place to go, and that it was miserable and rainy, I am just painting a picture for you to understand the total awkwardness I am about to tell of. 

In Europe you walk almost everywhere you go. To the bus stop, the metro, the market, stores, where ever. It is uncommon to hop in your car and drive 5 minutes to the store when you can just walk there and bring your basket-on-wheels along. This means that the beautiful cobble stone sidewalks are generally fairly full with foot traffic, and when it rains in Bilbao EVERYONE carries and uses an umbrella. When you have a sidewalk that is usually wide enough for just two people and you throw rain, baby strollers, dogs, and umbrellas into the mix, things tend to get a bit, well, awkward. Now I don't know if there was some umbrella etiquette handbook that I missed getting upon passing through customs, but I do know that I had no idea of the flow that everyone else did. In order to pass by one another, no matter how wide or narrow your path, one person has to raise their umbrella up, and the other pull it down. This enables both people to walk by one another while remaining dry and not hitting each other with their umbrellas, and looks like some sort of Target commercial.  I'm assuming by this point you are getting where I'm going with this...

I cannot count the number of times I whacked people with my umbrella, went up instead of down, twirled in circles to try and navigate myself around without inflicting injury on those around me, or just flat out got stuck with someone else's umbrella. And because yo soy Americana (I am American), they were not pleased with my misunderstanding of umbrella maneuvering, to say the least. Many, many "lo siento"-s (I'm sorry) were said, as well as my usual noises, facial expressions, and meaningless half-word/half-sound utterings. I am notorious for making a situation a bit more awkward than it needs to be, so these situations were an almost-daily struggle. And this doesn't even get into the times I would walk into a room and shake off my umbrella just to splatter those around me, or open it and almost take someone out!

I still do not understand umbrella etiquette and have faced situations like these in Chico since that time, so I can only thank the Lord that I am now living in LA, where umbrellas are seldom used, and walking everywhere is highly uncommon. Although I do miss those days. . . . 

As you can see, there are many situations that are awkward. This one is a little off-beat and not experienced by all, but I know there are a good deal of you out there that have encountered situations just like these. Send me any you can think of, I am going to try and continue this saga as long as I can. And let me assure you, some of the ideas in my mind are a little...dirtier, so be sure to keep up ;)

Today's Quote: "A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way." -Mark Twain