This is not a dream

Second week of class down, thank goodness.  I think that last week I ran off of adrenaline, and this week I've got nothing left in me.  I'm tired, worn down, missing home, and not to mention my mind is constantly working in two different languages to listen, understand, translate, speak, repeat.  The accent here is getting easier to understand and I am finding myself understanding things that I know for a fact a week ago I would not have had a single clue as to what someone was saying.  I am also getting more confident in my ability to speak, even though every time I speak to someone on the street that doesn't already know me, they always ask where I'm from.  And I just say "the United States, it's obvious, I know."  However, they usually respond surprised and say something about how well I speak for a United Statesian.  That always makes me a bit happy, whether it's the truth or not.

Anyways, this week has been tough, and it's making me realize how hard this experience is.  It is a wonderful, beautiful, inexplicable, daily struggle.  I am not homesick or depressed or crying all the time (in fact the only time I've cried was when I got robbed), but this is hard.  I used to think that studying abroad was going to be all butterflies and flowers and just great all the time, but it's not.  It is a struggle to make a new house feel like home.  It's a struggle to force myself to be completely independent with some things that I'd prefer to have some help with.  It's a struggle to adapt to a new way of life.  It's a struggle to think about what and who I am missing back home.  It's a struggle to to understand different accents.  It's a struggle to live in the 2nd largest city in this country (I miss York...two main streets-Philadelphia and Market, so you can't get lost).  However, this is also the best experience of my life.  I am learning to make this place home.  I'm learning to become independent.  I'm learning to love this more intentional, slow-paced way of life.  I'm learning how to be a good, supportive, loving, daughter, sister, family member and friend from oceans away.  I'm learning to appreciate the richness of the cultural diversity that exists here.  And I'm learning to love this big, vibrant city.  But that doesn't mean it's easy.

There is so much here to be thankful for, and since in my last post I listed all of the things that, well let's just say I could do without, this time I'll tell you about the things that I love about here.

1.  My host family.  They couldn't be more helpful loving and supportive, while at the same time pushing me to be independent and learn the way of life here.

2. My professor.  Even though 5 hours a day is a long time to be in class, I'm grateful that she clearly loves teaching and wants to get to know us as individuals.

3. All the sweets.  Everything here is sweet and it's great.  There is nothing more comforting than warm sweet bread, or cafe con leche, or dulce de leche with anything.

4.  The coffee.  I was so afraid that they wouldn't drink it here or that is would suck, but they do drink it, it's very popular, and it's the best coffee I've ever had.  Sorry Starbucks.

5.  The pace of life here.  Everything is centered around relationships.  The house is not clean?  That's okay, because I had a really good time talking and drinking tea with my friend today.  Relationships will ALWAYS be more important here than getting things done.  To-do lists don't seem to exist, and if they do, they are very flexible.  People always come first.  I love it.

6. The simplicity of life.  Most people do not have cars here, let alone a bunch of other gadgets to make life more complex.  They have the bare necessities and other people.  That's all one really needs.

7. Panadarias- Bread shops.  Walk by one, smell the deliciousness, and try to not walk in and buy something.  I dare you to try.  It's almost impossible, but I force myself to do it every day.

8. Smart Cordobesas- The people here that actaully know their way around and will send you in the right direction.

9. The perritos- The puppies, EVERYWHERE.  In the streets, on the sidewalks, in the buildings, everywhere.  They are precious, and it makes me sad to see so many stray, wild dogs, but that's life here.  These people have enough money to feed and clothe themselves and their families, but maybe not enough to feed an animal as well.  Regardless, I'm thankful for their adorable faces and the ones that sometimes join me on my walk home from school.

10. The history of this place.  Cordoba, well parts of it, look like a city that was frozen in time hundreds of years ago.  It is gorgeous.  Old churches, parks, and beautifully detailed architecture capture the essence of what life here may have been like many years ago.

Now on a different subject, we have to get involved with a group here in Cordoba for my culture class.  I think I am going to try to find a church to get involved with, and prayers that I can find one would be greatly appreciated.  I think I would really benefit from meeting people here who will support me in my faith.  Although no church is ever perfect, I think there is so much truth to the fact that believers need times to be surrounded by other believers to lift them up, build them up, and get them spiritually ready to head back out into the world to hopefully lead others to Christ.  That's what I'm praying for -someone, or a group of people that can be that support for me during my time here.