Curtains

I’m back. Back? Used to life here. Yes. Same as I was. No. Learned a lot. Always.

I write this as the curtains are closing on my summer and Barcelona and my time abroad feels like it was a dream. Leaving this lifestyle and becoming accustomed to another culture in Spain, only to later assimilate back to the lifestyle I had just feels funny. I remember my first days home being blown away at the comfort that we live in and think of as so regular. Our fluffy pillows and blankets, our once worn socks that are tossed down the laundry shoot without a thought, or how we have so many of our favorite things around us that we find disappointment in choosing one for the way we have sacrificed others. Truly first world problems.

  At first I tried to keep reflecting on what I learned as I meandered through my summer and I was wrapped up in my internship here. What did I learn while abroad? What ideas did I write down while abroad and am I still following those thoughts? How can I keep the essence of that experience alive more than just by hanging the Catalan flag in my room and looking at the souvenirs on my desk to remind myself I was truly there? I found that the more I tried to cling and cling to what I had there, the less I was truly able live and explore here. And as I drove up from San Diego after a brief visit to reconnect with friends from school I was able to resolve the fact that I have nothing to cling to but only things that will propel me forward. I know I changed abroad. Profoundly? Maybe. Maybe not. The point is that I changed. However change is a hard thing to notice when you are the one it is happening to. When you live with yourself everyday and a change happens gradually you may not notice it. But to the person who saw me 4 months ago and then ran into me downtown Santa Barbara as I talked with them on the street may think very differently of me. I am trusting that the truly valuable things I noticed, that I took them to heart and that they are inherently a part of me now and I need not worry about “keeping up with myself”.

            Changes of what kind? I may not be entirely sure. However I do know that certain changes only come about by cetain practices. Planting certain seeds bears particular fruits. I know abroad that I experienced so many worthwhile things and that in my free time I filled it with worthwhile things as well. Reading, writing, drawing, singing, conversing, exploring, adventuring, seeing old things in new ways…These are all things which I did both alone and with people, in the silent of our upstairs loft in Spain, and in the bustle of downtown Barcelona. They are the things that change how I walk now, how I read now, how I write now, how I draw now, how I sing now, how I converse now, how I go exploring now, how I adventure now, and how I see things now. 

Grateful always,
Cody

           

Paris, Professional Attire, and Peering West

 Paris was ugh…decent. Pretty neat stuff. Alright fine, it was incredible, spectacular, (insert your favorite superlative here)…all the way from each monument surpassing my expectation all the way to the creperie I delighted at (because “eating at” doesn’t do it justice), which can only be charted up with the best things I have ever tasted in my life. The city itself was beautifully spread outwards rather than upwards which made for metro rides that took the best part of an hour but more importantly, there were beautiful views from any little rise or bump in the otherwise flat geography. This geography deceived me and Chad many times as we thought big things such as the Eiffel Tower or the Arc de Triomphe were much closer than the really were.

  One particular night at the Eiffel tower we looked in amazement across the city and saw that the Sacre Coeur Basilica (which we lived next to) was nothing more than a white speck on the hill in the distance. Nighttime at the Eiffel is magnificent as the towering structure flashes its lights at the top of every hour doing so for the last time at 1:00am. This particular occasion is equally awe striking because the rest of the towers lights switch off so you are left gazing at a darkened city with just the lights glistening against the blue backdrop of the night sky. The city like I said is very expansive and as we tiredly headed into the metro we realized how fortunate we were that we had chosen that particular night to watch the last Eiffel Tower show. Typically the metro is closed at midnight but that night it was open until 2:00am and the price tag on that potential cab ride still makes me cringe. Thank God for good fortune.

   We stayed with a very nice French fellow named Julien who was a massive fan of The Beatles and Bob Dylan. Records, CD’s, Posters, and memorabilia lined the walls of his place and being a musicman myself I appreciated the décor and of course I quickly became acquainted with the piano and guitar he had lying around. My favorite feature of his house was his bathroom, which he demanded us to leave a quote or a favorite verse in. All his guests before had done so and the walls, pipes, and toilet all had funny drawings, foreign language notes, thank you notes, and even inspirational quotes for those who look for such things in a bathroom.

  Paris as a whole seemed to be very aware of its image. I noticed this all the way from the laughable vastness and upkeep of the Palace of Versailles; all the way to the kids who threw rocks into the pond at the Luxemburg Palace dressed in their full suits. I sat there watching them in amusement as they ran around and chased birds looking better threaded than I did on my high school Homecoming outings, although in retrospect that really isn’t much of a feat considering my baggy hand-me-downs from my brother that I wore…but you get my point.

  At the airport I couldn't help but to smile as I showed the lady my boarding pass and walked up those steel steps to board my plane knowing that the next time I do so it will be onto a plane that is heading to the states. I feel like it is a moment that is supposed to be bittersweet but in secret actuality it was just 100% sweet. I am so grateful for each of my trips that I have had the privilege of taking. Anything more would be a blessing and anything less would still be one as well. Always counting my wealth of blessings. I am amazed to be living this semester in Europe as I continue to do so there are so many things I have learned about life here, things I have observed about life back home, and very importantly of course, are the many things I have learned about myself…

Czeching out Prague

      Following the steps sent to me by me soon to be “Air BnB host”, Chad and I hopped on the first bus and hoped for the best after touching down in Prague. Not knowing when to get off made us glance sideways at each other each stop wondering if we had passed it 20 minutes ago. Through much confusion, hoping, and stealing of wi-fi access from outside restaurants we found our apartment. Prague offered a much friendlier exchange rate and we took advantage making heaping servings of pasta on our first night with our friends who arrived shortly after us. Bags were upside down, dirty dishes were in the sink, and the place was looking messier as the night went on. We had arrived.

     Free transport definitely was the name of the game and allowed for my decreasing bank account to finally take a deep breath. Muchas gracias Czech Republic. First day out we met up with friends and headed to the top of the very reveled astronomical clock tower in the main city square. It reminded me of the tower next to the Duomo in Florence. The main difference was the obvious difference of height and the fact that for this one, instead of taking the countless stairs like we did in Italy, we hopped in a cool glass elevator reminiscent of the one in Willy Wonka. The 360 view of Prague was quite amazing from the top and also made me realize how far off in the boondocks our apartment was, again, cue the giving thanks for the public transport. Right beneath us was the main square in old town Prague where local vendors sold their goods and the food cooked right in front of you…which was eventually irresistible, and it got the better of me.

      Next up we visited the castle in Prague, which was superb and lived up to of all praise I had heard about it. Walking into the massive courtyard was pretty unreal and as the cathedral towered over the pathway and it opened up into a delicately bricked plaza, I felt like I had walked onto the set of The Wizard of Oz. We made our way through the fancy gardens and wandered around many other decorative buildings. We sat for quite a while outside of a Starbucks and enjoyed the view and as I took it all in I kept thinking how amazing it was that the very same view is more or less what King Charles used to look out at all those years ago.

      Another notable find in Prague as the Lennon Wall. Once we decided to find the Lennon wall it took us roughly an hour to find it and afterwards we found our way to our starting spot in roughly 10 minutes. Poor directional guessing on our part. But our wanderings made us explore some random places and I have found throughout my time in Europe that getting lost makes for good finds and great memories…and the occasional riding of a baby statue. Like so.

    Going on the infamous Charles bridge (which the old King so humbly named after himself) was special as we saw local craftsman selling their goods on the bridge, people playing their instruments as kids danced around, beggars with their heads to the ground, and this clash of all worlds was happening as people foot pedaled around in their boats underneath us. All along the bridge there are statues with placards at the bottom with words or some with engravings. These engravings were all dark but consistently there was one object on the placard that had been buffered into a shiny gold color from all the hands that had rubbed it for good luck over the years, I gave the golden dog a little rub just in case.

Rainbows, Rocks, and Old Folks

We got a bit of rain today! Love walking in the rain. Absolutely love it. Chads family is visiting and we walked and talked our way around Montjuic and we were treated to many beautiful sights and sceneries. At one point we were walking on a lower pass and some people from above decided to lob rocks down at us. They crashed and cracked off the road in front of us… if one of those had made contact with us stitches would have surely been necessary but I’m sure they didn’t mean it. I put a rock in my pocket and took one in hand for short measure as we headed to the top…. As the rain drizzled on and off so did the appearance of rainbows over the ocean as if they couldn’t make up their mind on whether they wanted to stay or not, I didn’t mind. The rest of Barcelona seemed to glisten whenever the sun came back out and the shadowy clouds combined with that made for some amazing looking skies. Although I was kind of disappointed we didn’t see the rock throwers because I was curious to see if my arm is still up to par from my pitching days. 

         While with those lovely Ridenours I realized that I always really enjoying hanging out with people that I know I will see again. It happens whenever friends visit too. Obviously I love spending time with my abroad buddies but there is something unique about being abroad with people you know you are going to see again. It is great to be experiencing and living into memories that you will be able to reflect on later.

        Tonight the Ridenours graciously treated me out to dinner and as I dozed in and out of sleep on the rug at their apartment I felt like I was back in Santa Barbara again. We watched the re-runs of old Barcelona matches because “El Classico” (Barcelona vs. Real Madrid) is tomorrow and the TV stations build it up by showing past games. It is a massively significant game… maybe somewhere close to when the Yankees play the Red Sox, but on steroids…so basically just when the Yankees play the Red Sox. HAHA

      The city was truly mine as I skated home tonight, weaving through the road however I fancied. The streets where empty of cars and my only other company was the groups of night people here and there. I skated past a wide array of stories as there were girls struggling to stay on their feet as their friends carried them, all the way to the old dignified couples that strolled through the night holding onto each others arms as their feet pitter pattered through the lamp lighten streets. I hope I’m like the latter some day just roaming the streets with my gal.
Until then....

Take a Hike

     After a particular late night out we all convinced ourselves we would meet up at an ambitious time of 10:00 and head out for the renowned Montserrat. Well…by the time 11:30 rolled around we were all finally there at the rendezvous point and we headed down the stairs into the train station. We even left the train station by 12:15, 2 hours late…not too shabby for 7 boys eh? On the train Chad and I introduced the rest of the crew to a game called “silent football” a church camp favorite over the years. Lots of laughs were had (silently) and we passed that hour in the train very easily. Many Spanish folks looked at us bewilderedly trying to figure out what we were doing but to no avail, but at least they laughed along with us...maybe at us. We hopped cheerfully off the train and before we knew it we were looking up at the massive mountain we were supposed to hike, all of us wondering if we had bitten off more than we could chew…but it’s all about the baby steps so we crossed the street.

After about 3.5 hours of water breaks, beauty breaks (to take it all in), taking pictures, fraternity representing, throwing rocks, potty breaks, the obligatory naked photos with nature, and whatever else you can imagine boys doing on a hike…we reached the top. It felt as if we were in a Lord of the Rings movie as the buildings themselves looked like a natural extension of the mountain. To reward us for breaking a sweat (a rare occasion) we helped ourselves to some food at the café and explored the top of the mountain. We checked out the cathedral, snapped some cool pictures in some older looking archways, bought some snacks from the local vendors, and of course climbed the monument that said “Please don’t climb the monument” in 3 different languages. For some the photo opp was just too good to pass up… I think they will understand. As we waited for the train home we tried to juggle in a circle with a crushed beer can to show all the on looking Spaniards that Americans actually can play soccer…the fact that we never got past 3 juggles might have proved otherwise…T’was a grand day.

Clubs, Taylor Swift, and Sketches

This past weekend Barcelona was flooded with people! Which is ironic as I saw newsflashes of my hometown of Santa Barbara getting rocked with pier-high waves and quite a storm of its own. Barcelona’s clubs were host to “Abroadfest” which brought many nightlife enthusiasts to the streets. It made for great entertainment.

            This weekend was nuts, the influx of people even had its own effect on our house. Three friends of mine some how fit their way into my home-stay and I took to a pullout bed downstairs. Many other friends scattered around the city and as fun as it was to show everyone around, my favorite sandwich shop was clogged with customers all weekend long leaving me with mixed emotions. It was an eventful weekend and as I showed friends around my dear Barcelona I was constantly reminded of why I love this place so much. We were even greeted by our dear acquaintance Tito(obviously we are on a first name basis) at his supermarket and he let us make our sandwiches there one night on our way out. He didn't even complain about the crumbs we left all over the ice cream case...what a homie! As I walked departing friends to the bus stop for the third and final time on Sunday I noticed how the streets had thinned out and it seemed like the city was exhaling from the long weekend. I would follow suit later once I got home and propped my feet up on the coffee table. I have some fun pictures to reminisce over from that weekend but incase I ever forget what it was all like… one of my friends who kicked me out of my room was also kind enough to kick over her perfume bottle before she left so that room that typically smells of manly musk now has a dainty tinge of Taylor Swift perfume. Every dog has its day!

            I decided to skate to class today and as I returned home, the two Germans who stay in the room next to mine passed me by on their way to check out Sagrada Familia. It struck me as we bid “Adieu” to each other that the encounter had a bit of a small town feel about it even though it was in such a large busy city. What great people Germans are…seriously. Their English is impeccable, they are super kind, and they even drew in my notebook when I randomly asked.
            I have been asking lots of people to draw in my precious Moleskin here, which is normally filled with my half written songs and sketches. I think it will be such a fun thing to look back on and I’ve always liked looking at different peoples drawing styles. Just got two more tonight after dinner!

France, French, and Fruition

...We awoke “early” and headed uptown to catch the 8:00 bus. I dozed off throughout the whole trip occasionally awakening to see green hillsides spotted with rocks passing by on one side and out the other window was the Mediterranean, cool as a cucumber. France welcomed my program-mates and me with lots of wind, much less inhabited streets than Barcelona, and a surprisingly high amount of English spoken (music to my ears). I did feel foreign at times with the rapid French being spoken all around me but I had to laugh to myself as I thought that as crazy as it sounds to my ears, they could just simply be talking about last nights re-run of their favorite TV series. Another familiarity found in France was the meal times; it was a pleasure to return to 7:00 dinners, an absolute delight. Haha! The French people love joking around with Americans and getting a reaction out of them. This varied all the way from two ladies joking around with me at a bakery and yelling ludacris profanity in English at the top of their lungs as they fetched me my croissant (really funny), all the way to a girl in our program nearly getting into a full blooded scuffle with one particularly French, French man. Safe to say our hosts kept it interesting. France offered some beautiful towns, awesome graffiti, some great garage sales, lots of skipping stones at the beach, some windy late nights, and my personal favorite was the bathtub in my hotel room, which I basked in the glory of quite frequently. On my last morning there I woke up early, soaked in some scolding hot water, and went for an extremely pleasant walk about through the floating gardens near our hotel. It was a peaceful way to “slip out the door” and out of France as I walked through the fog while the sun was still low in the sky.

  After a windy late night and of course a bath the next day I sat relaxing in the room as Chad snoozed away on the bed next to mine. A quick knock got me to my feet and I let our friend David into the room. As I closed the door he seemed to make a beeline straight to where I had been sitting and he picked up the Bible I had just put down. Not something your average study abroad student carries around I guess. After asking if I was “religious” he followed it up with an innocently curious, “why?”. It wasn’t that profound of a question and I should’ve had an easy time having an obvious answer, right? Wrong. I couldn’t find one. I just sputtered out what was on the edge of my conscious and what the first thing my sleep deprived mind could come up with. I sleepily said/yawned-out something along the lines of,

“It brings me peace and when I live the way that Jesus instructed in here, (holding the bible) I end up better off than if I had gone at it alone”.

That answer surprised me a bit, definitely not my average response. Also not the answer that I would have written down if you hade given me more time. That’s for sure. But it was undoubtedly, unmistakably the answer straight from my heart.

My premeditated response was out the window and the truth just fumbled out of my mouth before I really thought about it. It was so refreshing being asked that question when my guard was so low. What I realized is that I typically hear sermons at chapel and church where I am spoon-fed the answer to these sorts of questions. When they are asked I just pull that lecture from my back pocket and I have a fail proof response. But from being away from the sermons and other influences for so long, my answer was entirely based off the conversations of my mind and my frequent reading about the stories of Jesus. Simple as that. As David left later on I repeated that simple yet stumping question a bit more in my head and I took it further… I literally believe I will live forever because of what Jesus has done. I will be on this earth or with Jesus in heaven. One or the other, but it is because of Jesus only that I get to live forever. That is what I think Paul gets at when he states, “If you want to boast, boast only about the Lord”…because anything we are… we are only able to be that because of Jesus.
For so many reasons I am extremely thankful for knowing Jesus and all the people who have taught me about him. It’s the biggest and most life-changing thing I have ever had in my life and I know it will continue to be…