Un dia triste para mi...

So, last Saturday, I was going about my own business, innocently shopping for food to subsist upon for the start of the school year.  My first mistake was thinking about what a good driver I am and how simple my life has been lately.  The second mistake was to trust the oncoming car's right blinker that was supposed to turn into where I was so I could take a left onto the busy road.  Not so.  And the oncoming driver, ignorant of his blinking light and why I was pulling out, supposed I would move out of the way in time.  My car was too slow.  He braked at the last moment and swerved what he could, probably saving my life.  Thankfully, the damage done was only emotionally to me and the physical blow was suffered by my dear '97 Geo and the other guy's '11 Toyota. I'm guessing his car'll be taken care of.  Mine will, too, but I'm not sure exactly how just yet.  According to Maaco, mine's totaled.  :(

It's still surreal that the accident happened.  That it happened to me.  That I may be carless, just after having updated the tabs, replaced the brakes, fixed  the CV axle, and gotten a new paint job and transmission just a year ago.  That I almost avoided it.  That I almost died.  

I saw the other guy on campus today, and I'm pretty sure he recognized me; he looked down as we walked past each other.

All I can say is that I don't know what the future holds for me and my car, but I do know thatI am blessed with wonderful family members to comfort me and calm me and hug me, and that Heavenly Father must really want me to be here--he's saved me from two car accidents, preserved my life in Europe, and protected me against many other, unknown dangers!

Tengan cuidado mientras manejan!

"A Little Fall of Rain"

And thus it has ended, at least for this year.  As of today, I have begun my training workshop so I can begin teaching Spanish this upcoming school year, and next week I begin my own classes as well.  All in all, it promises to be a busy but rewarding school year.  Ha, I even have a few former students scrambling to figure out how they can be together and in my class yet again!  That warms my heart.

However, I am not here to write about my dear former students or my new schedule this Fall.  Rather, I am here because I realized it's been awhile and it just so happens that I've thought a lot about life this summer.  Perhaps one particular catalyst for this post is one of my new colleagues, whom I met this morning.  I don't know much about him--only enough to relate with him when he told me he hadn't even planned to do an MA a year ago, because I was in much the same position just before I graduated with my BS.  Had you asked me just over a year before graduating if I expected to be a flourishing grad student in Hispanic Linguistics, I would have told you I was too scared.  Shoot, sometimes it still scares me!  And if you'd asked me when I was a graduating senior in high school what I planned to study, Spanish was a mere hobby, not even on my list of potential foci for a BS/BA.  Not to mention that I would've looked at you with a gaze of sheer shock, eyes bugging out of my head in unbelief had you told me then where I'd be today.  Some of the shock has worn off (both for me, my colleagues, and my professors, to be sure!), but there are still times, I think to myself, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!  HOW DID YOU GET HERE?!"  But believe me that those are moments of awe and wonder, marveling in the wisdom of God's timing and his ways.  Why?  Because despite so many odds, I am where I am and I am here for a reason.

In elementary, my teachers thought that advancing me would make me "average."  Boy, were they wrong.  Besides, as a friend pointed out most of the population is technically "average," so how is that so bad?

In high school, I dared follow my siblings' steps by participating in Running Start, aka concurrent enrollment, allowing me to complete high school requirements by working on my AAS.

In my undergrad, my dad and best friend in particular encouraged me to continue studying Spanish and my mom supported me in my desires to study Home and Family Living and prepare to marry and raise a family of my own one day.  In the process, I followed divine guidance by living in the Foreign Language Residence rather than participate in studies or internships abroad.  By the end, another friend's nudge helped propel me towards ultimately deciding to go for an MA.

Thanks to the good faith of the Spanish linguistic professors here, I was accepted into the program.  Once again following divine guidance, I sought out counsel as to how to fund a trip to Europe.  Enter the FLAS program and all the plans and spontaneities that came to fruition this summer.

I may not be a returned missionary (RM) who served Spanish-speaking, I may not be the most mature or the most experienced, I may not have the best, most fluid Spanish, and I certainly don't have the most concrete plans for the future, but as I said before, I am where I am for a reason.  And as unique as I am, I am not by far the only one whose life heavenly Father has a hand in.  We all make plans, begin to follow them, and accomplish some, totally own others, and are dumbfounded by yet others.  But there always is a way, despite all the turns.  For me, those were not getting married in my 5-year plan, becoming the most inexperienced grad student in Spanish, and learning French in Paris.  And as frustrating as it is for plans to go cattywampus, who's to say they are blessings in disguise?  For me, the extra time being single allowed me to wander Europe freely, the Spanish MA gave me a job and credentials to receive the FLAS grant and have spending money, and Paris gave me the chance to explore Europe.  Oh, I know that not everything is as colossal as it has somehow turned out to be for me; in the case of a former student a car accident and subsequent surgery turned out to be blessings in disguise because the leftover settlement funds are now paying her tuition.  In Les Misérables, the tragedy of Eponine's death turned out to free Marius to marry Cosette, his love.  For others, the hidden blessing comes from married while going to school, realizing that money is tight, but still being generous and suddenly receiving food and gas as thanks in return; getting a hard, last-minute one-semester teaching job that earns you enough money to continue on with your own education; taking extra time and falling "behind" because your big project isn't coming along like the others', only to realize that at least by delaying graduation you are still eligible for insurance; not being able to have children, but actively participating in the community, thereby being able to work closely with others' children and becoming a second mother to many; feeling heartbreak when a relationship (of any kind) doesn't work out, but really it was so you could find someone better or appreciate better what you had and joy in the day it really all does come together (because IT WILL); having to move back home after earning a BS, but finding that you know you are closer as a family as a result; working custodial day after dreary day, finally to one day have someone thank you and it makes your day; or experiencing weakness upon weakness, to see one day how it has made you more Christlike and empathetic towards others who suffer.  In every case, the situation isn't exactly ideal, but the experience builds strength and shows us what we can endure and what truly matters in life.  Coming back to the Les Mis example, Eponine was right when she says the rain doesn't hurt, but that it makes the flowers grow.

So, for every up and down recorded here on my little blog from this summer with its gamut of experiences, there is surely a million other disappointments and joys and blessings in disguise, rains and meadows of blooming, fragrant flowers that you, my friends, are expert in and could tell me about.  And I'd love to be your listening ear.  It's the least I can do, really, as thanks for doing the same for me!  Remember that you are not alone and that Heavenly Father is working hard in your life and that he loves you!  As the songs says, "That's all you [and I] need to know."

How to Answer?

Picture this: You come back from a trip long enough that friends and family missed you, and everyone asks how it went, seemingly excited and somewhat jealous of the wonderful trip they imagine you've had. They suppose that the normal life you have "resigned" yourself to coming back to is boring and mundane, anxious to hear your larger-than-life version of the world beyond their own.  Everyone asks how you are doing, what you thought, and you do your best to sum up the recent past in a few words, unsure which of all your thoughts and experiences to share.  You begin by describing it as great/crazy/totally worthwhile, or something to that effect, and then either the conversation ends soon thereafter because you don't know where to begin and they don't have time anyway; or their eyes begin to glaze over and they get all shifty as you excitedly begin to answer and continue answering a question they asked, and your excitement fizzles out as you get the feeling they didn't really want that much of an answer; or they are just as excited as you and the conversation goes on, with questions and story-answers flying back and forth, perhaps indefinitely, or at least until you have to drag yourself back to real life and remember time constraints, possibly to continue the catching up soon.

Have you ever had that happen to you?  The trip?  The questions?  The answers?

I know that I frequently give long-winded answers and give people more information than they bargained for, but I'm feeling quite torn and, frankly, disappointed.  I know my colleagues, friends, and family are excited to have me back, but I don't want to give everyone the same one-word sum-up of the past three months of my life, and I do want to share what I've learned and done with them.  I don't want to completely take up the limelight, though, ending up feeling like a braggart of sorts.  So you can see that I have a bit of a dilemma as to how much answer to offer, and if doesn't make me feel any better when people ask questions and I get on a roll as I answer them, only to realize that they are ready to cut the conversation short and escape, as though to put a pause on it, or maybe even to hit the "Ctrl+Alt+Delete" button.  Lucky me, such a button doesn't exist outside of technology in social situations.

 

Okay, so I'm exaggerating, but I do feel a bit at a loss as to how much to say.  Thankfully, closer friends do seem much more interested and don't seem to mind me as much.  Maybe 'cause they know already how much I talk and they expect it.  ;)

I do try to share the conversation in my effort to not hog the conversation or steal the spotlight...

So, how was Europe?

It was crazy.  It had its ups and downs, and I learned a lot.  It was totally worth it, but I am glad to be home in the States.  If you want pics or to hear about what I did, most of it's on my blog.  If you have questions, ask.  It's great to see you again!

How was your summer?

***

Boy, I will be so glad to move into my place for this Fall and finally stop living out of a suitcase and have a ward with Home Teachers and Visiting Teachers to call my own.  In the meantime, it's been wonderful to spend so much time with my bro and new sis-in-law, work on a phonology project with my MA colleagues and professors, and catch up with so many close friends.

Day 96, Home at Last!

The last day of my European adventure, at long last!  We spent our last pounds and pence on the taxi ride, courtesy of a nice Punjabi man, and a few Cadbury chocolates to tide us over for breakfast.  Really, the entire day was one long waiting period, divided into ways of biding the time.  First, it was waiting to get to the airport, then to get through all the security protocol, then for our gate to open, then for our plane to start, then for the flight to end.  Next, it was to get through customs and make it onto our connecting flight, only to wait a few hours more for it to end and finally land in Salt Lake.  Lastly, it was waiting to arrive at my brother-in-law’s grandparents’ home to get my car, for us to get to my sister and brother-in-law’s home, and then stay awake until late MST to help adjust to being in a time zone that’s at least 7 hours earlier than I’ve been in for the past 3 months.  And, what with all the waiting I’ve done on this trip for trains, metros, and whatnot, I like to think that I’ve become more patient and laid-back while waiting…What ARE we in such a rush for?  Maybe slowing down will actually cut out some stress and extend our lives.  Even so, I am grateful that I did have movies and food and a book to help pass the time and distract me from my anxiety to get to my blessed America during my long flight home.

All the same, all the weeks of waiting and longing to come home and the last few hours of traveling to finally get to my destination were worth it, especially when the customs officer told me, “Welcome home,” and the pilot on our flight acknowledged to hard work and valor of our military personnel on flight, ending his remarks with a warm, “Welcome home and God bless!”  No, I am not yet at home in the town I grew up, nor do I have an apartment to call my own, but I am indeed at home in the sense of being back in the culture I was raised in and have taken for granted for all these years!

As we came in for a landing in the Salt Lake Valley, I looked down at the neat, orderly rows of housing of the cities below and wondered to myself whether or not they are in actuality much different than the ones of the metropolises I’ve spent the summer in.  Tout à coup, a realization struck me: Yes, they are different; the ones directly below me had yards, lawns with grass and trees, not to mention that the very layout of the Utahan neighborhoods is more linear and organized than those of Paris, Lisbon, Madrid—you name the city.  Sure, they designed their vast cities with undulating curves so as to hinder attacking catapults, but ours were designed for commerce and transportation.  It is in such simple details that one can see how drastically history has shaped the cultures on these continents separated by an ocean. I have had the taste of Europe on the one side that I for so long yearned for.  I, like my country in the eyes of the world and relative history, am young, but I am grateful to my time in Europe for pushing me to grow up a bit more and for helping me to see what a gem my life in the blessed United States has been.  No, I know that the places I saw were not third-world by far, but the very differences of simplicities such as toilets, toilet paper, and toilet handles or ways to do laundry, or what side of the road and car to drive on and in—simplicities I never really questioned because they seemed so natural—were brought to my attention and appreciated at last.

My sister and her husband feel like the beginning of their two-week long trip was long ago, and my sister has mixed feelings about being back and having to go back to work in just over a week from now.  I, however, am ecstatic to be back.  I even can use my American phone again!  I came back and received multiple texts right away from my brother, asking about where I was, how I was doing, and wondering why it’s been so long since I’ve update my blog.  I’ve got work to do, but after having had a few months of wandering, I’m ready to settle back in!  So, I just want to end this trip chapter of my life with a few thanks.

Merci, Paris, for the crêpes, waffles, pastries, and for being my first European experience.

Gracias, Spain, for fulfilling one of my life’s dreams and for giving me a view into my mom’s youth. 

Obrigada, Portugal, for reminding me of my hometown and for showing me the value of both understanding a language and being able to respond in it (rather than just understand).

Merci and gracias, my French and Spanish friends, for teaching me your languages and welcoming me in for even a brief time.

Thank you, Ben and Ashlee and Bonnie, for teaching me how to ask questions and become more independent while having fun!

Thank you, my dear SPAN 105 and 106 students and BYU and the US Government for providing me with the means to go to Europe.

Thank you, Mom and Dad and my family and friends, for your support and many prayers on my behalf.  I love you.  You are the reason I could look forward so much to coming back.

And thank you, Heavenly Father, for always being there, always hearing my prayers and those of my parents; always putting the right people in my path to teach me and help me or so I could help them; always protecting me and guiding me; sometimes showing me glimpses of what I might expect for my future; and sometimes filling me with complete peace, regardless of where I was.  I know that the ups and downs were meant to be experienced and that you have shaped me into a better person.  Thank you for blessing me with a home in the United States of America in a loving family, surrounded by loving friends and with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as a constant in my life, no matter where I go in this world. 

How did I ever deserve such incredible blessings?!?