My grandmother recently said that she was surprised I have not written many BLOGS since my departure two months ago. I look back and it seems I write when inspired, and usually this is brought on by a new landscape, unique food, unpredictability of people, or just the fact my eyes are more open and looking..

I can look up and see remains of roman aquaducts before my gaze focuses on the distant horizon of rock formations that were once spiritual grounds of pagans.

Cobbled narrow paths wind as a puzzle through my “now’ home.
Yes, as I walk down the streets of Monistrol de Montserratt, to pick up groceries at all four separate tiendas of fruit, bread, meat, and a special store for fresh eggs; I am still amazed at the ancient beauty of this village, yet not surprised anymore.

But I guess this association of “home” is the reason for my lack of inspiration. A home; for most takes on a form of comfort and predictability, perhaps the same with the regular routine of work, or possible relationships with friends and family. With this, I think we forget to see what we have, because we already “know” what we have, and we know what to expect; thus our eyes, our minds, and our spirit becomes dull and perhaps not inspired anymore.

Kafka says it best, “Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old”.

I think this is true and the easiest during Holiday or Vacation, but I think most importantly the ability to live this in our normal, comfort-filled, predictable grind of everyday life, is most important…being if it is in Spain, Nashville, in a office, on a mountain, with family, or a stranger.

So as I am led by my guide



up multi-pitch peaks of Montserratt National Forest, my "now" home,



climbing for hours, and resting just a little as we dangle or crouch

struggling to overcome my fear and make it to the top

to only turn around and climb down, seemingly a more dangerous route

I am reminded that all in life should be just as beautuful and inspiring as the first time you see it.
Amor,
Katelyn

Language:Brittany/Bretagne France

Obviously, by now you think I have come to fully appreciate the importance of language. I thought my last trip to Spain was enough motivation to start to learning Spanish…but after one-on- one tutoring, hours of self study, and getting up the nerve to locate any Spanish speaking people in Nashville to practice with, I find myself in Spain speaking English. Yes, there are times where I get on a Spanish speaking kick; Ruben giggles and everyone else still does not know what I am talking about. It was not until I found myself at another dinner…. going back and forth from forcing myself to be involved in the conversation, to daydreaming…again; that it hit me when remembering a comment of Ruben..the importance of language.

I looked at this loving family, friends of Rubens, have welcomed me into their house for 5 days as Ruben and I Holiday in the Brittany/Bretagne France http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brittany

This land famous for crepes and cider has beautiful seaside land for bike rides and hikes.

Reaching from the south near Lorient,

to the villages of Carnac and Quiberton where Neolithic prehistoric (2000 bc) dolmen http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dolmen can be explored


to the Northern pink granite cost of Perros-Guirec

and the western tip of Crozon where the beautiful sea side cliffs hide Natzi War bunkers.



Lou, a Spanish women,

met and fell in love with Tom, a French man,

moved from Africa, where they met, to raise their son Joyulie.

Tom, a true Bretagne in view, with his striking features and spirit, is proud of his celtic costal land that still displays their ancient language on all signs.

Able to communicate with Ruben, because Ruben is fluent in French, but unable to communicate with me; Tom does not speak English and understands Spanish as much as I do. Lou, speaks Catalan (a dialect of Spanish), Spanish, French, and a little English. Their son, ( 2 years old) understands French, Catalan, Spanish, and now because of me says a perfect “American” HI!

So many languages at one time, at one table, in one moment, in 5 days; were being communicated repeatedly in all languages so everyone knew what was being said. For what I could not say; I tried to make up by showing my appreciation for their hospitality with a smile, a thank you with my eyes, an attempt to commuicate, and by making food and cleaning the kitchen.

On one of out bike rides, Rueben the master translator wisely said…. “You are lucky that in your country that you can travel to visit friends.. you know, you can go to another state where the food and cluture is different like in Europe; but you are lucky that you all speak english. I never thought of it this way; the “knowledge” of the importance of language was always there, but I took for granted what in America is so common- a common Language.

Amor,
Katelyn