Vida Lluviosa
Vida Lluviosa
"Gracias a La Vida que Me Ha Dado Tanto"
Early during my time in Spain I had many moments of
clarity. After about two weeks, I fell into a comfortable, easy pattern of life,
which was a nice change from my continuously thoughtful mind. However, recently
I've found a "second wave" of contemplation. I've never lived in a
place outside the United States before, and here I am, six weeks later, living my last full week in
Granada. It's difficult to put my thoughts into words, and
I'm sure as this next week develops my mind will continue to be perplexed and
my heart confused.
Today it's raining.
To most people rain doesn't mean much, and rain is something to be thought about, it's negative.
I love when it rains.
Some love rain because they have some cliche idea that it's melodramatic, or they like to "dance in the rain," or enjoy the "fresh smell," or the "sound against their windowpanes." Although these things are nice (and incredibly cliche in my opinion), I have many memories when rain seemed to be a
symbol of change in my life. If it weren't for my experiences, I'd probably detest rain (because nothing creeps me out than seeing a zillion worms in the streets).
In China, when I was thirteen, it rained in the
harbor of Hong Kong. It was during my last few days in China, and I remember
running through the rain back to our hotel. This was the first time I developed
my desire to travel. I don't remember much from this trip besides what I have
in pictures. I think I was still to young to fully appreciate the history and culture,
however I think that being there was one of the major stepping-stones of
developing who I am today.
![]() |
| Hong Kong before the rain |
When I was sixteen, I was convinced to attend a Catholic
Church camp. As I've stated before I'm not a completely devout religious
person, however many of my friends have incredible faith, and I'm always
interested and inspired by their continuous efforts to worship God, and share His values. As reluctant as I was, I had (what I consider) my first true
encounter with God. It poured this day. I was outside, and we were instructed to
pray for about an hour. The idea of "talking to myself" for an hour
was daunting. However, I found the time raced by. At the end of my prayers I
asked God three questions. Later, at reconciliation, I was talking with a
visiting priest and confessing my sins (which I hadn't done in years). As I
stood up to walk out the door, he stopped me. He asked me to close the door. He
then sat me down, took my hands, looked into my eyes with incredible intensity and answered
all three of my questions in order, and he spoke almost verbatim responses. It was
still raining so many hours later.
![]() |
| The last day at DYMO (Catholic Camp) |
Just last year as I spent my first week in
Guatemala, my final day it rained. This trip was one that I believe forced me
to change and grow during my first year of college. I was climbing down the
volcano. It had just erupted a few days before, and so we had to take a newer
route. Our group was a bit separated but my friend, Adam, and I stayed
together. We eventually found this random hut on the volcano, and as it poured
we took a break in the shed. We laughed and talked for a second before the rest
of the group caught up. Climbing the mountain was my last activity in
Guatemala, and it was a bittersweet ending to that trip, but beginning to a new
outlook on life for me.
![]() |
| Hiking in the rain |
![]() |
| The steam on the mountain from the rain hitting the hot ground. In some areas the lava was still visible. |
I could go on describing moments where rain has
symbolized change - my first heartbreak, first car accident, so many "firsts" and "lasts"... I'm not
intending to pour my deepest darkest secrets out online, I just want to share
the significance that rain has for me, and why I was inspired to write today.
There's also a saying that if it rains on your wedding day it's good
luck. I hope this is true because I can bet money that it will rain on mine. In
fact, I hope it does.
In class we've been studying vocabulary about
issues pertaining to injustice and overall human rights. I finally feel as if I
have the ability to converse with people about relevant topics, which I'm very
appreciative of. When I started off speaking in Granada I think I sounded like
an intelligent four year old (if I was lucky). I wouldn't say I'm fluent by any
means, but I can speak without thinking most of the time. My grammar might not
be always correct considering I just learned future tense a week ago, but I've
tried to work around my gaps in knowledge.
Last week I had the privilege of watching a Spanish
movie titled, " Tambien La Lluvia," which means "even/also the
rain." The movie was about the struggle for indigenous people of Bolivia
to obtain water, and related the problems of people today to the problems of
people during the time of Columbus, and how today there still exists groups of
people without rights.
![]() |
| Scene from the movie |
Today my teacher played a song for us by Mercedes
Sosa, a famous singer from Argentina. The song is titled, "Duerme
Negrito." It's a lullaby from the Caribbean. As I listened, I thought
about my time in Guatemala. I feel extremely privileged to have had the
opportunity to see two different places in "el mundo hispano." I
hadn't thought much about the differences between my two different experiences.
Honestly, I've spent most of my time attempting to live in the moment, and
although this is a great thing, I am slightly disappointed in my lack of
thought about this topic.
When I left Guatemala for the second time this past
year, I felt especially passionate about human rights, and specifically access
to heath care. Actually, my trip solidified the fact that I no longer wanted to
be a doctor, as ironic as that sounds. I have no idea what I'm going to do with
my life, I just know that I have greater interests than science, and I want to
spend my time living rather than studying. I know that this might seem an
overgeneralization, and I have so much respect for students who desire to be
any sort of medical professional. I had an epiphany that it was no longer for
me. Now, I hope to use this passion for "derechos humanos" in the future... in whatever way I can.
As she played this song a few times in class, I
kept remembering the faces of the children in Guatemala: children who hadn’t
seen a toothbrush in their lives, and ultimately had no teeth, children who
were suffering from various parasites, children with a serious lack of
nutrition. There's a statistic that states that families in Guatemala live off
of 1 dollar (approximately seven quetzals a day). Can you imagine living off a
dollar a day?
![]() |
When I was there the first year, we had a ceremony
at the end of our week in the medical clinic. We were broadcasted on local
television and met the mayor of the city we were in. Each of us was called up
one by one to receive awards. Before the ceremony I had two little girls run up
to me, and each one grabbed my hand. At the time I spoke zero Spanish, but
somehow I felt so connected to them. They'd been around the clinic throughout
the week so I had recognized their faces. It felt like I had made a difference.
That's all I've ever wanted to do. It was the most gratifying feeling in the
world. It's funny how small memories can start so much change. Feeling that unending love and connection that we, as humans, share with each other is electrifying and contagious.
I went home today and listened to Mercedes Sosa's
other song, her most famous. It's called, "Gracias a
la Vida." I've been playing it on repeat for about an hour now. I feel extremely grateful for my opportunity to live in this wonderful city in
Spain. I've continuously tried to truly live while I'm here. However,
after this past week of thought and reflection, I'm in awe as to how much
opportunity I have had not only here, but in all of my life. Being away from my true life, and beginning on a clean slate has made me grow to love my past mistakes and my current flaws, as well as hope to become someone honorable.
I turn twenty in about two months. Twenty is such a
scary age to me. However, this past weekend I felt twenty, if that makes any sense. I've
been saying to my friends for months, "I'm scared to turn twenty. I thought
I'd have my shit together by now." I don't have anything together to be
honest, and I probably wont ever have anything all together by the standards I would like. Yet, I feel older somehow. I feel that I'm ready to be twenty (Yes, I know twenty is
still young). It's another stepping-stone. I don't feel scared anymore, and for someone who has lived her life completely safe and afraid of fear itself, this is a great thing.
When I was in high school I had someone tell me
once that I was only fun during the summer because I took life too seriously
during the school year. In fact, thinking back I took everything too seriously
that sometimes I forgot to live. I lived for the purpose of making it through another
day. I didn't try to enjoy my days really, which seems selfish to me
now. He probably does not remember that he told me this perception of me, but I've never
forgotten it. Ever since, I've had this saying in my head "be alive as if
it were summer." Sometimes I forget or I choose to revert back to my old,
stressful habits. I think I've found that side of myself again as I've been
here. I found her in Guatemala too - the summer side. I think this version of me is who I am, and everything else is just blockades that get in the way.
![]() |
| Sagrada Familia |
![]() |
| Clinic in Guatemala |
I used to say I feel most myself in other
countries. I don't know if that's true. It isn't about where I am. It's about
what I'm choosing to do, or whom I'm choosing to be. I like to think that there
are many different sides to me, and honestly it has been exhausting picking and
choosing how to live my life based on what other people want from me. Figuring
out what matters, or rather who matters, has been a continuous struggle in my
life, but I think Spain has solidified my thoughts for me.
Today was the first day I’ve missed home a bit. I’ve
loved my anonymous (more or less) life here. Yet after thinking so much about
my past and my future, I miss being rooted down. I miss having a purpose
greater than myself. It’s been delightful being increbiley selfish for a bit of
time, but I feel a bit out of place. I keep thinking about how much I want to
share these sites, thoughts, and new knowledge I’ve attained with my friends and
family. I’m not lonely, but I miss being needed. Overall, I feel incredibly
thankful. It’s the most overwhelming feeling I think I’ve felt in awhile. I
wish I was able to describe my thoughts and feelings more eleoquently. I am
still processing, and perhaps that’s why I feel so scatterbrained. It’s as
though I’m charged with a new energy, a passionate energy for all that life has
to offer. I’ve been so safe for most of my life, and I finally feel like I’m
truly living. Now I hope I can use
this euphoria for something much, much greater than myself.
Usually when I can’t process my own crazy mind, I
turn to music. It has never let me down. I think this song describes my emotion better than a thousand of my own words could:
![]() |
| Guatemala |
![]() |
| España |
"Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto
Me ha dado la marcha de mis pies cansados
Playas y desiertos, montañas y llanos,
Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto
Me ha dado la risa y me ha dado el llanto
Asi yo distingo dicha de quebarnto
Los dos materiales que forman mi canto
Y el canto de todos que es mi proprio canto
"Thanks to life, which has given me so much
It gave me the steps of my tired feet
With them I have traversed cities and puddles
Valleys and Desserts
Mountains and plains
And your house, your street and your garden
Thanks to the life, which has given me so much
It gave me laughter and it gave me tears
With them I distinguish happiness from pain
The two elements that make up my song
And your song, as well, which is the same
And everyone’s song, which is my very song."
Besos,
B





















Comments
Post a Comment