In trying to teach our daughter that giving is better than receiving, Crystal and Tanzen baked cookies and delivered them to our new friends around town. I think they appreciated them…
Delivering a cookie
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Category Archives: Living Abroad
Graffiti
Graffiti
Spain has impressive artists in its history. Individuals such as Picasso, Goya, and El Greco have invested incredible effort in speaking through art.
But there are other artists whose work is seen without buying a museum pass. Spain is full of graffiti. It can be much more than a four letter word scrawled on a boxcar. Much of it makes you scratch your head and ask, “Why would you spray paint over something with so much history?” Others make you think, “Wow!”
There are even some celebrity artists whose names appear on buildings and bridges for hundreds of kilometers around Madrid. The amount of effort put into scrawling their name on an underpass is impressive, albeit confusing. *How much time and money did you put into this?*
Some businesses have chose to hire a graffiti artist to paint their building, probably to keep other graffiti off of it (I guess graffitiing a graffiti is bad mojo?!?).
So I ask a question, “Is graffiti art?” Can it be art if it is destroying personal or public property? Is it art if it is commissioned? Is it only art if it is beautiful, or realistic, or grand?
And if it is art, what truth is it fit to communicate?
And if it communicates that message well, is there a way to appreciate the work and the message?
Language blunder #12536
The other night we were in the food court of a mall and I was talking to a friend. I was trying to say, “I have a question for you about quantum mechanics.” So I said, “tengo una pregunta sobre quantum mecánico.” But what he heard was “tengo una pregunta sobre cuánto me quieres” (I have a question about how much you love me).
Those are a little different…
Caïn by Henri Vidal
The Market
One of our new favorite activities
Those pesky time zones
One of the 21st century problems we face is instant communication. Not long ago, communication was limited to email. Before that there were scheduled phone calls and hand written letters. Before letters…pigeons?
But today we have iMessaging and FaceTime. I can text people in the States the same as I text people next door, for free, at any time of the day.
So where is the problem? The problem is that I live 6-9 hours ahead of many of those who are receiving my texts or answering our FaceTime. Once, we FaceTimed my parents at 10 am our time, which was a respectable hour for us. Their 3 am alarm clock was not quite so respectable. We are sorry.
So how do we capitalize on instantaneous communication (truly a gift from God) without suffering from sleep deprivation caused by the pinging, beeps, buzzes, and 80’s hair band ring tones?
Enter Do Not Disturb.
The following is for iOS users. Those using Android can figure it out on their own.
Go to Settings
Click on “Do Not Disturb”
Set your Scheduled time for times that work for you.
This way I don’t feel badly for sending you a text before lunch when you should be hitting your REM cycle.
Keepsakes – to keep or not to keep
We are in the throws of evaluating what we keep and what we toss. It is sometimes a very painful process.
Here is the flow chart that we came up with for choosing what keepsakes we pack in our limited space on the plane to Spain, what we keep in storage here in the States, and what we pass on.
Accessories of keepsake<Keepsake<Using/Playing with Keepsake<the Giver of the Keepsake
Let me introduce you to “Play Elli” (left), “Part-of-the-family Elli” (center), and “Mommy’s Elli” (Right)
Tied to keepsakes are a host of other accessories. Crystal has a doll from her childhood, and everything that comes with a baby. (I am actually confident we could raise Tanzen with fewer accessories than most dolls have.) Those bibs, strollers, and bonnets are all nice, but the doll trumps the accessories. In the pile of accessories, we could actually lose the doll. So when in question, the accessories get the boot first.
Then the keepsake itself comes under consideration. What type of value have we assigned to it? Does it remind us of something significant, or are we just holding on to it because we have always kept it? If it carries no emotional weight, it has become dead weight.
Following the evaluation of the keepsake, we then look at whether it will continue to remind us of something significant and eventually mean something to Tanzen. Can it be used or displayed? This doll will remind us of nothing if we never see it, and it for sure will hold limited value to Tanzen if she never sees it or plays with it. So, if it cannot be displayed or used, why are we holding on to it?
At the end of the line is the person to which the keepsake ties us. A doll is special because it connects us to the giver, or even ourselves at a certain time. That is where the true value lies. A doll is about $.05 of plastic and cloth, but its value is incalculable when we recognize that holding that doll reminds us of our grandparents and playing in their living room. That is what the keepsake is there for, and we cherish it.
We don’t want that memory to be lost in the pile of excess.
The missing number
Do you know that feeling when you are walking down the stairs in the dark and think there is one step left…and there isn’t? That is what it feels like when your new host country has 9 digit not 10 digit phone numbers like the USA.
**Life just doesn’t seem complete when the numbers don’t add up.
Shopping
These two girls are busy furnishing our home.
Ask for Kuka
“Go to the bar ‘Crisban’ and ask for Kuka. He will get you in contact with the owner. Remember ‘Kuka.’ Just ask for ‘Kuka!'” came the crackling voice from the other side of the intercom.
We had spotted an apartment to rent in the top floor of a building but couldn’t read the faded telephone numbers. We rang every intercom in the building, waiting for an answer. The final call set us on the search.
The problem was, we didn’t know where the bar “Crisban” was, and we had never heard of “Kuka” before.
So we walked to the next bar, which was not “Crisban” and asked if the barista knew of “Crisban” or “Kuka.” She didn’t, but she would call her cousin.
“Ok…Kuka…A few blocks…Ok.” We listened to the staccato conversation from one side as the barista spoke into her cell phone. She hung up and said, “My cousin said that you can find Kuka at this other bar which is just a few blocks away.”
We thanked the barista, paid for our coffee, and followed her directions.
We stepped into the dimly lit bar, home to a few tables, a slot machine, the barista, and one lone gentleman.
“Is there a Kuka here?”
“No. But my name is Juan!” Replied the gentleman.
“Kuka comes in at 8. Why?”
We explained our reasons and then began to make our way to the door.
“You aren’t from around here, are you?” asked the gentleman. “Are you German?”
So goes the search for a place to stay.
We forgot!
We have been packing up everything over the past week in order to move to Europe. Tanzen has been in the middle of it all, putting things in suitcases and taking things out. That is her way of helping, keeping our minds sharp by mixing up our sell and save piles.
Last night we got home from church and Tanzen looks up and says, “Oh no! We forgot to go to Spain!”
Yes…We must have forgotten to go to Spain while we ran errands.
