Smelling the roses

I seem to only write when I’m sad or struggling or depressed, and that’s not quite fair, because not my whole life is a test and a trial. Yes, I struggle daily, but that doesn’t mean I never smile and laugh and break away from the grasp of my intellectual mind to live freely, embracing all that is my life. There are so many good things that I neglect to see because I’m so caught up in what’s off or the things ought to be. I know the pictures on Facebook show quite an adventure, but my words seem to show a different side. I’m not trying to hide either side, so to give a fuller perspective of the adventure of life, here are a few of the favorite things of mine.

Sweet mornings where the clouds roll off the mountains as if they were going to sweep you away into the ocean of blue, lifting you off your feet and carrying you farther than the eye can see. The full moon reflecting off the water, the stars so bright, the sun setting behind the mountain, the moon on rising on the other side, the colors illuminating the sky just right. A fresh baked pastry that melts in your mouth, a refreshing frescito of mango and pineapple. Meeting someone new and understanding everything they say, or even having the courage to start a conversation anyway. Taking the long way around the university just to see if I run into anyone I may recognize or have already met. Restful nights in the house watching a movie, doing homework or going to POPS for some ice cream. Attempting to figure out the bus system with success, discovering a new spot to steal away and to rest. Going dancing (latino style) with good friends, exploring the city and surrounding towns and finding out that they are not exactly what we thought they would be. Going to a friends house, drawing buildings and sketches of houses. Eating so much good food that I don’t know what to do. Fresh juice and fresh fruit every morning. Essentially getting paid to surf and having some good friends teach me what they’ve learned on their home turf. Sitting by the water in a tree with a sweet soul, quietly reading and resting as the waves lap the sand at our feet. Wandering aimlessly just to get familiar and see what there is to see. Learning and practicing new words I learn, learning that some are fine and some are bad, learning to be cautious on who I trust to teach me stuff. Laughing about the way people here say “pizza,” then eating it 4 days in a row…..Sadly now I must go, but more will come as time goes on. Because I’m learning that nothing robs life more than a self-consumed attitude, and nothing breathes life and joy like gratitude, a right perspective, and a humble attitude centered on Truth.

Listen.

Today I stole away, sat under my favorite tree, wrote, and remembered how good it is to just listen to music and let it wash over you. When I can't seem to express myself in Spanish and my mind is fried from trying, when I'm not sure who to talk to or what I'm even thinking, I write. But I'm also learning that sometimes it's best to just stop thinking and to just be. To listen. Be still. So here are two of the songs I listened to. Two songs that breathe life and speak deeply to a soul caked with thoughts and questions and opportunities and analyzation. It's like water that softens the dirt and slowly washes it away so the soul can truly see again, and can be seen again.
Listen. Look. Learn. Let life happen. Live fully in it. Live Life. Engraved forever on my wrist, yet I forget it so quickly. These songs have a way of washing the dirt off my wrist and revealing the words that I never want to forget. The command and the object which we now possess. Washed anew by this music, I am reminded of the beauty of living.

Ocean: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6VAkOhXIsI0

Let's be still: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7kd5b8tGBM

Wash me Clean: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6DglU4Vi1CY

Growing into these shoes.

It gives a whole new perspective to foreigners at your home school. Not even just foreigners, but all who are new to the unique culture of your university. Speaking from their shoes now, because I’m currently wearing them everywhere I go (and they’re still a little big), I know and understand on a deeper level where they’re coming from and the struggles at hand for one like us. You’re stripped from all that you once leaned on for support and are reduced to a one dimensional character with no way to accurately express yourself. You’re not funny anymore, not clever, not bold, because in a new language you don’t have the grasp, the hold, that you did in your native tongue. Sometimes you don’t even understand what’s going on, you can’t even understand your new friend because they’re using words you’ve never heard before or they’re talking so fast its making your brain sore and you cannot focus. When I’m sitting in the outdoor coffee shop “reading” it’s really because I am longing to make a friend (preferably a girl) but I’m intimidated. They all seem like they have their groups, they have their friends, and they’re content with that. And how to break in is the other thing. I know not what to say or how to start a friendship since I scorn the small talk and want to dive right into the deep stuff. But that’s not how it works. And even if it did, I’m not sure I currently posses the ability or vocabulary to do so. So I sit here and watch from afar. How sweet it is when a few I recognize pass by and say hi. How much sweeter it is when they invite me to come with them, taking a tiny step into their lives. The new ones at school, yes, they appreciate when you stop when you pass them by to say hi, but what they really long for is one who will invite them into their lives. One who will include them and envelop them with love and acceptance.

I also understand on a new level why people so easily fall into the “wrong crowd..” because when you’re in a position like this, you can even become desperate for friends and you’ll take whatever you’re offered. And ironically, it’s usually the “wrong crowd” that is the most welcoming. It is them who offer a hand of friendship, maybe because they were in your position before and know it. But I understand newly.

There is a new solidarity. Instead of always looking out for me, I’m being humbled and challenged to realize that when I tear my eyes off myself there’s so much more to see. Instead of being consumed with if I’m sitting with my friends, I can slow down to see the girl who’s experiencing what I’m experiencing now, and understand at least a bit what she’s feeling. I can extend a hand of friendship and offer to help. I know that has been the most encouraging to me. When someone I meet offers to help if I ever need anything, even something as simple as offering a phone number or to eat with me makes the world of a difference.

So if nothing else, I will return with a new perspective, a deeper solidarity, with those who are in situations like me.

Romero.

How can such things exist. I don’t understand it and the fact that it’s reality enrages me. How can such injustice go unnoticed and undealt with. People stripped of their dignity and their freedom to truly live. Instead fear is drilled into their heads to the point that they can do nothing apart from that fear. And these tears well up in my eyes and threaten to cascade down my sheltered cheek, but in the end, at the end of the day, do my tears accomplish anything?

Stripped of the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Stripped of security and left completely vulnerable, caught in the midst of a war between the corruption of a government and a people of guerillas seeking their definition of justice. But either way they are caught in the middle and this fight has cost so many lives. They cannot walk down the road without the threat of death.

The stark contrast between they who govern and those who live and suffer. Those in charge who have been given the responsibility to govern a country are completely oblivious, whether by choice or not, to the reality of the people who are rotting under their nose. How the stench does not affect them, I do not know. How they can put their handkerchiefs up and pretend it’s not there, that life is a rainbow and perfectly fair causes fury to pulse through my body. It is injustices like these that ought to bring me to my knees and move me to action, but in this moment all I can say is that hearing these stories brings rage and indignation that races through my veins, filling my heart with blood that I don’t often know.

After watching that movie I must say those feelings I’ve felt have been bottled away for quite some time. While I hate the reality, part of me likes feeling those feelings of such intensity. But I hope that I do not stay the same. I hope I cannot remain the same. For I see the injustice, I see the pain, I see the hope of restoration, and I can sit by and watch things burn or I can be a part of the solution, an instrument of that healing, by the grace of God. And I pray that’s the case.

It reminds me of my brother’s song:

And we wonder and wonder why, all the white men they do is they lie

We were here first but then you told us that we should leave, it’s your Manifest destiny to cut down the trees. You had guns we had bows and you brought your disease, Took our mother earth and you just did what you please

then you just did what you please

 And they take and they take and they take every treaty they make well they break

And we wonder and wonder why, all the white men they do is they lie

The white men took all the best land and gave us the rest, then they took all of that and sent us to the west,

on a trail of heartache and death, they marched us we never could rest, on a trail of heartache and death. we solemnly marched to the west

The white men said they’d give us our freedoms, been 200 years, we still ain’t received em

 Startin to not believe them, all they talk about is their damn freedom, who was here first? we’re the natives, but defeated. Brought their filth, destroyed our garden of Eden.

Been paved over by the white demon. We call you the white demon, we call you the (I am a) white demon…