Dey be on da box preachin'...

Here's a little taste of what Kilometre Zero (Kilometro Cero) is like...
When Lydia and I were in Madrid, we had the opportunity to go with this group one evening and watch them work, as well as participate. Yep, this little American got up on that red box! :) It really is a cool ministry...I encourage you to check them out!!

An interesting video:
http://www.youtube.com/user/KilometroCeroMadrid#p/u/7/DLnBws1XbGo


Their website:
www.ontheredbox.com

I guess I'm allergic to an unknown bug.

Look at my hand! Agh!! I've had mosquito bites before...but this is unlike any other bites I've had before. My finger is swollen. Gross!! So I'm going to take Benedryl (see, I don't even know how to spell it) for the first time. Just a little dose. I'll let y'all know how it goes.

I'm just not that cross cultural.

After our time in La Vera, Lydia (one of my roomates) and I went to Madrid to spend a week with another missionary couple, Ken and Allison. They were such a lovely couple...and they did many things as a couple that I thought were just precious...but this blog is not for Hailey's relational opinions. We'll save that for when I get back to the states and I'm allowed to return to my feisty self. Speaking of not being myself...

I'll just admit it. The hardest thing for me here is not the food, culture, or the language. It's not even the extraordinarily weird mealtimes. It's not even the foot-inflaming terrain! It's the people. It always is, isn't it? And not even the Spaniards so much...it's the people I work with. And what makes it hard isn't necessarily personality differences(though sometimes it is, of course) or their likes and dislikes. It's culture. Plain and simple. Almost all of us are from different nations...and those of us who ARE from the same nation are from extremely different parts. So communication is difficult. And personally, I get frustrated. I don't feel like I can be myself...and then when I am, I feel like I've offended someone. So I go off by myself a lot. Like right now..haha. So what's this have to do with Madrid and English people? Well, just that.

Ken and Allison had lived in a Spanish world for a long time...but their home was incredibly English. It was like they lived in a little English haven in the midst of a Spanish world. So enter me, an American (a sarcastic midwestern one at that), and I'm just plain confused. I've always thought that I was an adaptable person...but that's not true. I like constants. In fact, I love them. When I'm placed in new situations, I tend to ask five million questions and second guess everything. And EVERYTHING's different here. So I'm always asking questions, and feeling stupid. Not that I mind being curious and learning things...but I'm just not this cross cultural. Sometimes, you just need to be yourself. And I really don't feel freedom to do that here. But I guess you sacrifice some parts of your culture in order to fit in with the new one. I guess I can last without running and sarcasm for 6 more weeks.

Agricultural ministry, anyone?

Last weekend, our team drove the eight hours from Galicia to a region of Spain called Extremadura...to a valley called La Vera. It's about 3ish hours from Madrid. All the OM Espana missionaries from all over Spain come to this region once a year (specifically, the small town of Villanueva) to meet, encourage one another, and share what they're doing in their respective ministries. For us short termers, it was very beneficial to meet many different kinds of missionaries, and to hear their stories. It was also encouraging to the long term missionaries to see that young people still love Jesus and are still getting involved in missions.

We stayed at the home of a lovely missionary couple, David and Sharon, deep in the mountains. I wish I could remember the name of the range. But I DO know that the highest peak of the range was right in front of their house...here it is:

We also had a chance to meet a lady named Susana who lives with the missionary couple as a worker. She showed us around the farm, and we got to help her pick lettuce and cherries and some other produce grown on the property. David, Sharon, and Susana all shared their vision with us: to develop relationships in this very agricultural community, and to one day develop a school of agriculture. They want to use farming, which is the lifestyle of most of the population in that area, to develop relationships and share the gospel. Of course, they hinted at me to come help them. But what missionary here hasn't done that to me? That seems to be one thing that all missionaries are praying and hoping for: young people to come, help, and learn how to take over. A lot of the older missionaries just seemed so tired. I'd love to help them...but I can't help them all! :( I guess all I can do for now is pray for them, and pray that God will lead me in the direction He wants me to go.

This week....

Well, the coming of June was also the beginning of business for us. Our amount of free time has significantly decreased, and the amount of things to do has increased quite a bit. As the team, we're preparing for the retreat this weekend (missionaries from all over Spain, which aren't very many, come together to refresh and regroup once a year in La Vera). From there, Lydia and I will go to Madrid to see a little urban ministry (there you go, Mr. Craigen..haha), and have a free tourist day as well. All in all, our trip to central Spain will be about 10 days. So I'm expecting my communication to be limited, though I really have no idea. I'll take five million pictures...don't worry. :)

On Friday, we gained a new roomate for a week, Kathy from Greece. I feel horrible for her. Her Spanish isn't the best, and her English is worse. Plus, the way she communicates is very different from how us other girls communicate, so conversations are frustrating for everyone. It's exhausting for everyone to communicate in a language that isn't our own. When Mr. Clark said in Intro to Linguistics that language is identity, he wasn't kidding. People's language defines them...and they're extremely proud of it. Even my American English...I'm proud of it, I'm learning. I like the way things are in the US...and I notice that I tend to question anything that's not done the way I've always seen. I mean really, who eats dinner at 9? Who puts mayonaisse on salad? Who puts 6+ hours in between meals and then drinks coffee all day? Hello...shaky hands, anyone? Who are these people who don't plan ANYTHING? These people are the Spaniards, who God loves, and to whom I must learn to adapt. And I am. I am. But Lord knows I'm eating lunch at 11 when I get back to the states. :)

Uh..sure..yeah, we'll be Christians.

Welcome to Ares...a little fishing village by the sea. They're famous for their yearly festival to San Juan (I think it's San Juan), where they make spectacular designs on the street from flowers, shells, sawdust, nuts, and other plants. The center square was a picture of Jesus:

And then the other streets, filled with many different designs, all went out from the center art piece. Here's a few examples:




Isn't that amazing? They've been gathering the materials for weeks...and from what I hear, they do it all in one night.

Ares has a really interesting religious history as well. I'm not sure when, but about a hundred years ago, the people of Ares were very weary of the taxes imposed on them from the current Catholic priest. They discovered that the only way they could avoid the tax was if they converted to another religion. Therefore, they invited the evangelical missionaries to their town, and they all "converted" to Protestant Christianity. So it's hard for missionaries there, because everyone says, oh, we converted. Our families converted. They don't realize that it's a heart change...and not just SAYING that you're evangelical, yet still taking your kids to first communion and baptizing your babies. Haha. It's kinda funny, but sad at the same time.

Getting my sins absolved...

This past week has been chock full of very interesting Spanish cultural lessons. On Thursday, we went to the old city of Santiago de Compastela, where according to tradition, Saint James is buried. James the brother of John, for you Bible scholars who were wondering which one. The Catholics don't believe that Jesus had any siblings. Mary remained a virgin, remember? ;) Anyway, we arrived in Santiago and parked just outside the city and then walked in. The way was filled with those who had made the pilgrimage. I'm not totally sure where the pilgrimage actually begins, but people make the trip from wherever they are. So a lot of people on the road were decked out in hiking gear, such as this lady:

You can also see that she has a conch shell on her pack...that's the symbol of the journey. Most people had the shell on their person in some respect...either on their bag, or as a necklace.

The city was just full of history...all of the buildings were ancient, and the cathedral was just magnificent:

I'm not sure when it was built, but I heard that it was during the 1100's. The line was a little too long to get in this time, but us girls are making the trek (yes, the hike!) from Ferrol to Santiago in July...so we'll have a chance to do it then, hopefully. This year is very special to the Spanish, because it's a Holy Year. It's holy to them because San Juan's feast day (July 25th) lands on a Sunday. So apparently, if you make the pilgrimage to Santiago, all your sins can be absolved. Obviously, I don't believe that...but seeing all these sincere people making the trek and doing all they could to appease God was saddening. I wish they knew what I know...that man can't please God with anything we do. We're depraved sinners, searching after our own pleasures, and wanting nothing to do with Him. None of our rituals please Him. The battle for evangelical Christians here is rough. They have to face thousands of years of history that says that Catholicism (mixed with a good dose of witchcraft as well) is the only way. Yet such a system binds its followers in fear and ritual. In Christ they could be forgiven and set free from all bondage. The trip to Santiago made me thankful for that...and also gave me a new determination to help the missionaries in any way I can.