March 25th

This is the email that I have tried... in vain... to send out MANY times.  Consequently, the keyboard is malfunctioning... no big surprise there... and I am unable to use proper punctuation, quotes, parenthesis, etc.... which is sort of painful when you are an English major!  Anyhow, I HAVE NOT fallen off the face of the earth.  I am alive and well in Spain.  I apologize for my lack of correspondence.  I am trying to amend my ways...
Catalina is what they call me here... Katie is difficult for Spanairds to say and I rather like Catalina...
Catalina de Aragon was a Spanish Princess.  I dig the parallel.
So here's the infamous email... and then some.
To all of the people I carry in my heart,

    I apologize for sending a bulk e-mail.  It was something I swore I would never do.  However, due to limited time and computer access I decided that it would actually be beneficial to correspond in this fashion.  It allows me to actually WRITE, instead of wasting time with 20 "Hi.  How are you?  LOVE Spain!  Gotta get to class.  Adios." e-mails.  If anyone wants a personal e-mail, let me know.  I´ll try to be accomadating.
    I am having a very good time.  I have not not been in Madrid for very long, (and I apologize if some of this is redundant information) because I have been traveling fairly extensively through Europe (mostly Spain).  The VERY abridged edition is that I spent four days in Switzerland at Joerg´s (who was an angel in every way) where I skiied (in the Alps!), ate foudue, met his amazing family and saw more swatch watches than I have ever seen in my life!  I cried when I got on the train and had to say "good-bye" to my wonderful friend.  But Insha Allah ("God willing," as he likes to say, our paths will cross again).
    Met up with the Syracuse group in Madrid and found myself speaking Spanish!  The amount of Spanish I have learned in four very short weeks has been an incredible surprise!  Empowering (like the time I was able to have a theological debate with two Spanish men at a bar!) and humbling (like getting the words bartender and truck driver mixed up in the middle of a story!) all at the same time.  And I must say, Spain has been a wonderful (almost spiritual)lesson in humility!  I have learned to smile my way through situations and laugh at myself and my mistakes (A LOT!)
    Once, at a hotel in Granada, I tumbled down about 4-5 stairs and laid in a heap in the hallway while my new roommates laughed (they were mildly concerned, but mostly they just laughed).  My fall might have made more sense if I had been drinking but I was dead sober.  Anyhow, the place where we were staying was very close to a ski resort and many English families were vacationing there at the time.  So, lying at the bottom of the staircase (it was DEFINITELY NOT one of those falls where you just bounce up and pretend like it never happened), an ENTIRE British family (mother, father and three children) peered down at me shouting (to get the FULL effect, you MUST say the next lines in a HEAVEY BRITISH ACCENT) "GOODNESS GRACIOUS!  Are you doing alright?!?!  Did you break anything??" etc. etc.  Sometimes I honestly feel that I have become a character in a book or movie.  Is this REALLY my life?!?!  The night before I had locked the same roomates and myself out on the balcony in el cuarto piso (the fourth floor-- which is actually the fifth floor in spanish--don´t ask).  At any rate, I scaled the wall, broke into the next room, and had to explain to the front desk attendent (in very BAD spanish) that my keys were locked in the room and my roommates were locked out on the balcony!  He thought it was hysterical, told our program director, and it became a running joke for the remainder of the seminar.  Consequently, my new friends began to call me McGyver...
    However, the nickname isn´t too bad.  Another one of my friends here said to me one night at a bar "estoy barrata!"  I cracked up.  She was trying to say "estoy barracha" ("I am drunk").  "Estoy barrata means "I am cheap" (I suggested that she avoid using this one with Spanish men...)  Now we lovingly refer to her as Michelle-- la barrata.  (Michelle--the cheap).  Another night she said "estoy burrito" ("I am a burrito!")  LOVE those langauge barriers.  A couple of nights ago I made one of my neighbors LAUGH when I told her that we are only allowed to have fish in the dorms.  Although the word for fish in english is the SAME-- whether you are talking about live fish or dead fish-- spanish has two separate words.  SO, I basically said "We have (dead) fish in the dorms as pets."  Right.

March 25
Somehow I lost some of the old email!  I have so much to say that I figure I should just throw in some highlights... like a Best of Spain album.

Go to the Prado every Thursday for my "Arts of Spain" class.  Can you imagine???  Right now we are studying Velazquez.  Did I mention that the class is taught in Spanish?  I don't really know how I got into the class, but it was sort of a sink or swim situation... and I'm swimming, more or less!  My professor... Santiago... is the greatest man... he cracks up at my one word responses to the question "What do you think about this painting?"
For example... "Catalina, que piensas sobre esta obra?"  And I usually say something like "Jesus is in the middle and there is a lot of blue."

Went to Santo Domingo de los Silos where the Benedictine monks do their Gregorian chants.  Like the CD, but LIVE!  Incredible.  Gave one of the monks a high five!  It's sort of a long, embarrassing story, but I will share with those who want to know more...

Had an AMAZING time bumming around Mundaka and Bilbao with Peter Greyshock.  Went to the Guggenheim.  Their current exposition is the "Art of the Motorcycle" and there was a French motorcycle club there... very funny.

New favorite person... Saint Theresa.  Went to Avila and decided that she and I are spiritual soulmates... am reading her amazing poetry and plan to return to Avila before I leave.

Spent last weekend in Valencia for a wild party called Las Fallas... a festival to celebrate St. Joseph's Day and the end of winter.  They build these HUGE paper mache works of art... very satirical and critical of different aspects of society... saw a paper mache Bill Clinton, for example!  Then they burn them.
Stacey joined me from France.. an 11 hour train ride... how amazing is she?!?! We had an interesting weekend... to say the least.  It was so good to see her and she was my first reminder of home... something I really needed.
I took her to a bullfight for her birthday!  It was AMAZING.  I loved it.  Kind of surprised by the way I enjoyed it...

Will be seeing Stace again in France in a few short weeks... and then it's off to Rome to see my mom and the Pope!!!!  Two of the people I admire most in this world.  I can't wait.

Love to all the chaps... as Lady Brett Ashley would say...

Love and miss you all.
My thoughts and prayers are with you everyday.
Katie.

P.S.  Kell... forward this to mom and dad... I forget the new email address... Lynna... how are you, love?  will you forward this to Alison... Sarah Cook... I don't have Christy and Jills addresses... will you send this their way as well?

Let me begin by saying that I read over "God Abroad #1" after it was posted and
realized that my grammar and syntax was horrible.  Good thing God is a merciful
editor...

I must forewarn the skeptical: this is one of those columns that might be
considered a stretch of the imagination or a low-budget, made-for-television
special about a series of "otherwise insignificant coincidences."  However, I
truly believe that "coincidence" is the term that we frequently apply to a far
greater reality:  God´s grace. And it is by the grace of God that angels have
guided my path...

When my mom (god bless you, mom!) told me that she was "looking for a sign that
I would be safe in Madrid" I laughed.  But her "sign" came.  I would be going to
school in an area of town called Miguel Angel (The Angel Michael).  Now, St.
Michael is not only an angel, but an archangel.  More importantly, he is known
(in the Catholic Church) as the Protector.  So mom was satisfied.  And I got to
go to Madrid...

My second "angel," so to speak, presented itself as I got off the train to meet
Joerg in Luzern, Switzerland.  Tired, frustrated, and feeling simultaneously
beaten and triumphant, I made my way into the Swiss Alps and was convinced that
I was actually getting closer and closer to Heaven.  Pretty close, actually.  We
were on our way to "Engleberg"-- in German-- "Angel Mountain."

By the time I got to Spain, I was a far cry from the incompetent traveler I had
been in France.  However, the language was my new challenge.  Alone in Toledo, I
wandered into a tiny bar/cafe, and ¡que buena suerte! (what good luck!)  The
bartender took me under his wing and became my spanish tutor, local cuisine
adviser, guidebook, and "spanish culture" guru for the next three days.  He
called me "Catalina de California," sang to me, and put a permanent smile on my
face.  He was my first Spanish friend.  Our initial conversations were sort of a
twenty-questions/charades hybrid, but I quickly got over my fears of "sounding
stupid" and all of a sudden I was speaking spanish! And I believe that the
ability to communicate is a miracle in every way.  When I finally asked for his
name before departing for Cordoba, is it any surprise that the answer was
"Angel?"

And then there was a day in the Retiro Park.  It was the first and only time I
have ever been scared in Madrid.  It was two in the afternoon and I was in a
very public place with lots of people, but Caja-- my new "friend" was making me
nervous.  Feeling uncomfortable as he inched closer and closer to me, I was
looking for a way to get out of the situation.  A Spanish man sitting nearby was
my answer.  He was young and I recognized him because I saw him almost everyday
in the park.  However, we had never spoken until that moment.  "Excuse me," I
said in Spanish (which, luckily for me, Caja didn't understand).  The Spaniard
smiled.  I quickly explained my situation and he suggested that I walk over to
show him the pictures I was holding in my hand.  As I stood up, Caja grabbed my
arm and pulled me back down!  The Spaniard was about to come to my rescue when I shoved Caja and told him off in English.  When I was done with the English, I
yelled at him in Spanish as well (which I didn't´t even know I could do!)  Caja
took off and I turned around and sat back down next to the Spaniard (who was
very amused with the drama that had just unfolded.) "Thank you," I said.  "You
saved me.  What is your name?"  He told me, but it wasn't until he was gone
that I realized that I had been "rescued" by a fourth angel-- Gabriel.

     Silly?  Perhaps.  But I truly believe that God sends us people and signs
just when we need them most.  My string of "angels" was only evident as I looked
back through my journal and memories and connected them all together.  However,
they definitely exist.  And I would be crazy not to take hold of a hand (or
wing) when one is offered!

May God´s graces and "angels" guide all of our paths in this great journey
called life...

In His Precious Name,
Katie.
Next Week:  "What is One to do Without a Forth Pair of Shoes?" 

Tuesday, February 8, 2000 * God Abroad #1

"STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND"

        "Rarely do we realize that we are in the midst of the extraordinary.  Miracles occur all around us, signs from God show us the way, angels plead to be heard, but we pay little attention to them because we have been taught that we must follow certain formulas and rules if we want to find God.  We do not realize that God is wherever we allow Him/Her to enter."
                                            -- Paulo Coelho
                          (By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept)

       Not long ago I left the University of San Diego very scared--scared to be a stranger in a strange land, scared to leave behind the security of Founders Chapel and a wonderful Christian community, and even scared that God would not follow me "abroad."
       "God Abroad" was born as I began to realize that God was both far bigger than my fears AND multilingual!  Furthermore, I have discovered that faith is an incredible common language and love will ALWAYS be an international affair.  To reiterate the beautiful words of Paulo Coelho, "God is wherever we allow Him/Her to enter."
       When I first came to Spain, my real mistake was trying to bring God with me in my pocket instead of in my heart.  If nothing else, "God Abroad" seeks to bring God out of that pocket and into a truer light.  It will disclose the personal triumphs and trials of a spiritual journey and the discovery that God exists neither in American nor Spain.  God exists within.

       My optimistic spiritual discourse and discoveries, however, do not come without tears and frustration.  Spain is wonderfully Catholic but I am still an American.  Near my house, there is a Church en la esquina (on the corner) and I have been trying to break into the faith community there.  No luck.  The way people look at me I might as well be the Holy Ghost.  Imagine an entire congregation of elderly Spanish men and women and one young, blonde, American girl desperately trying to learn how to say things as simple as "Lord hear our prayer" or "peace be with you" from a book.  Blending is not an option.  I wish I could say that this community has accepted me with an open, loving arms, but they have not.  Maybe the "open loving arm phase" will follow the "inquisitive stares" phase.  I must say, though, that I have developed a much deeper appreciation for the Eucharist, as it requires far less brainwork than understanding the readings and homily in Spanish.  However, with every frustration lies something to be gained, and as I walk to the altar to receive the Body of Christ, I am not a stranger.  I am simply welcomed to the table.
       I must also admit that in the midst of beautiful spiritual experiences, I have longed for Christian community.  Sitting in the Cathedral of Sevilla (the fourth largest Church in the world!) and although I was absolutely floored by the grandeur and immensity of the building, I began to laugh out loud.  People looked at me as if I was being irreverent (which only made me laugh harder!) and so I finally stopped laughing and settled down (Joseph Horejs, take note).  I was giggling at the realization that I was absolutely LONGING for Founder´s Chapel in a Church that could basically eat the Chapel for breakfast.  Furthermore, I was still giddy about monstrances and chalices and bleeding statues while everyone else was on their way to lunch.  And when I finally did get to lunch I talked passionately about Saint James for about twenty minutes until I realized that it had gotten very quiet and everyone was staring at me blankly.  They were all Jewish.  That day was a disaster in the sense that my new "friends" began to refer to me solely as that "crazy Catholic girl."
       That "Catholic Pride" has been negated a little, however, after two weeks spent studying the Christian Recon quest (among many other things) in a traveling seminar.  Although, Spain is predominately Catholic I have discovered an incredible richness in its other religious traditions-- namely Judism and Islam.  Discovering God in mosques and synagogues has been equally frightening and enlightening for me.  For the first time in my life, I am looking at Christianity in a more holistic, worldly, historical sort of way.  I have been incredibly challenged and have had many questions, issues, and areas that I find problematic in my spirituality journey.  I am searching in every way.
       Finally, I have a theory about "Jesus on the Metro."  Every day, on my way to school, I smile at everyone on the Metro.  I figure that with everybody crowded together (think: New York City subway) Jesus is definitely present.  So I smile at everyone-- because I want Him to know that I recognize Him-- and that I am having a very good time in Spain.

Dios te bendiga.  Tu hermana en Christo, Katie.

** I dedicate this column to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

** Questions, comments, critiques, or general e-mail can be directed to katielaz@hotmail.com

** Next Week:  God Abroad #2 "Angels to Guide My Feet"