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Spain….

Dana and I ended our Spanish adventures chilling in Valladolid. We walked around in God’s glorious sunshine and did some devotional time in the park. God brought along some funny old men to make us smile. They talked with Dana for a bit about the most random things. One talked to me even though I didn’t understand. He told Dana I was quiet, she told him I didn’t speak Spanish. That was a funny moment. They ended by telling us how nice we were and how beautiful. I think we both needed their kind words. It’s like at just the right time God speaks to you through the most random people, and when He does you just know He’s the one who said it. That felt good. Then it was time for me to leave, sadly.

I started the train ride without any problems. I thoroughly enjoyed the leg from Vall. to Madrid. It was everything after Madrid that sucked. On the train there were the most adorable Spanish girls in front of me, three of them none older than 7. They kept looking at me and giggling and trying to get my attention. When they saw I was reading they showed me their book. The title had Feliz Navidad in it. I knew what that meant. They may have wanted me to read it but of course, I couldn’t. I told one of them they had a pretty bracelet (I don’t even remember the word now that Dana had taught me) and then my Spanish was spent. Luckily, God made things called cookies that I’ve always claimed transcend language barriers. Remember my bus trip to Torino next to the Romanian dude? The only thing he understood was what I could communicate by giving him a cookie, and I think that’s love for you. Who needs words when you have a smile and a cookie. That’s what I think anyways. So I secretly passed 3 cookies up to them and they loved it. Their weird looking friend (I am not at all Spanish looking) had treats! haha….A little while later they slipped me some Spanish starbursts. We bonded.

Unfortunately the rest of the ride wasn’t real great. The car I was in kept the lights on, but I fell asleep several times anyways. I woke up, however, at 4am and didn’t sleep much after that. My stomach was churning. Some Spanish food the night before was not feeling so great. And lucky me still had till 2pm before I’d be home (funny that my trip to Spain took almost twice the time it took me to get here from the states…). It sucked hard core. I hate stomach aches; second to throwing up I think they’re the worst way to be sick. So I tried to read, to listen to music, to not think about it. I guess it was bound to happen. I was bound to get sick eventually (after all I’d been healthy since Feb) and with the amount I travel the odds were good it’d be during that time. So yeah, that was not fun. But we’ll just drop the story there.

The days that followed I continued to feel sick, but being at home and at the beach made it better. I got to chill with Christina so I wasn’t alone like I thought I’d be (cause everyone else is still on break). The only thing left was, well, waiting it out till it was time to go to Africa!