On Becoming Legal in Scotland

Like most of my fellow juniors who are abroad, this is the year when we turn 21, thus becoming legal adults (who still cannot rent a car from many major agencies). It's my birthday, and aside from doing fun things like wandering around Greyfriars' kirkyard and the city center with some friends, and then having cupcakes with a fellow birthday-child, and tea and cake with another friend, I went out to dinner.

Now, a lot of people get excited that it's their 21st and can drink legally; however, since we are in Scotland, people can legally drink when they're 18. Some of my peers have expressed the feeling that it is anticlimactic when they point out to the bartenders that they can legally drink in America. I am not really disappointed, because 21 is just like any other birthday because I don't imbibe alcohol because of religious prerogatives. Thus, I am left with a mild feeling of irony.

However, to celebrate, I did purchase a "Lemon and Lime Bitters," which is sweeter, less carbonated version of Sprite. It was a mixed drink, though! Something that I really appreciate here is the how okay it is to go to a pub and not order something alcoholic. Here in Scotland so far, I haven't felt weird or out of place not wanting to drink (although someone at the bar gave me a strange sidelong glance when I asked for something that was non-alcoholic, but that's his problem).

Las Cascadas

Two major things happened on Saturday: one was going to mountains, hiking, and swimming in the river. The second one was having my wallet stolen. For the post about dealing with my wallet stolen, have a look at August 22nd's I'm Two for Zero post.

I spent the day with my Czech co-worker, her boyfriend and some of their friends. They are some very lovely Spaniards – very friendly and open and willing to speak in English (after I spoke for some time trying to practice my Spanish). There was a real Madrileño, two Malàgans, and Andalucian (he came from a smaller town in Andalucía with its own name) and a Galician, perhaps? Yes, yes, I know that they have their own names (like Gallego), but I do not know them, and I am going to be culturally insensitive for a few moments.

We drove to the destination (I don't know where it was) in two cars, and I was with the Czech, her Spanish boyfriend, and another Spaniard. I was really amused when the two Spaniards started to talk about the work that they were doing, and how there was a problem with the software that they had been developing. The product was already delivered to the customers, and the malfunction had been picked up by a news station. One joked that they should they leave a comment on the article, saying, “Sorry, yes, it’s our fault as the programmers, not the company – we’ll fix it mañana!” “Yes, yes, we’ll do it after siesta!” they bantered back and forth. As you can tell, I was amused.

We arrived at a series of three tiered pools, each one a gigantic square. There was Kentucky bluegrass (or its cousin) beneath our feet – and a gigantic crowd sprawling along the beach. Preferring a more natural setting, we walked another hour and a half to the top of the falls.

Here there were two shallow pools, one falling into the other. The space was narrow and a little crowded but fewer people were there. We climbed up to the higher of the two pools and took a dip in very, very cold river water, and some of the guys tread water for a moment right beneath the waterfall. I cannon-balled into a lower (warmer) pool but didn’t feel like having really cold water splashed on my head.

After swimming, we took lunch, and then the chicos went off to explore the waterfalls above us while the Czech and I talked and enjoyed being down below. I was pretty tired, and drying off in the sun sounded just about right for me.

After they came back, we took our stuff and made our way back to the area with the crowd and the pools (las piscinas) where we regrouped and refreshed ourselves with restrooms and Coca-Cola.

Everyone was nice, and the Spaniards talked to me – in English and Spanish – and I had a really nice time out in the country with some very kind people.

Gushy ending, I know. Note – you can also find Mormon missionaries just about anywhere. While up at the falls, I ran into two of them on a Saturday excursion with their ward (Barrio 3 - I'm in Barrio 6). One was even from my city and knew Elder M from June 20th's When in Spain... post. It's a small, small world.

"Mormon Moment" - Pt. 2

The title for "Mormon Moment" came from one of my very dearest friends who will remain anonymous for the purpose of this post. We had known each other for about a year and had many conversations about Mormonism, because the doctrines we teach and espouse have had a profound influence on who I am and who I want to be.


One day, she told me that she had been to the nearby (fantastic) coffee shop and was drinking a mocha when all of a sudden she stopped and thought to herself, "Oh crap! I can't be drinking this!" because she momentarily thought she was a Mormon. She described this as a "Mormon moment."

I'm Mormon, which means I get to have these moments all the time! Whoo!

Mormonism: 1 (n +1)

Caffeinated beverages: 0

Midori and Zil, that was for you. Yes, you know what I'm talking about.

"Mormon Moment" - Pt. 1

For the last week, I was searching for my iPod. In my purse, in my backpack, in my room, at my desk at work. Nada. After the last couple of days, I finally just gave up and figured that I had accidentally left it somewhere or - heaven forbid - it had been stolen.

I am not one of those people who needs their MP3 players to breathe, and I think that people who listen to the music blasting at decibels I can hear across three seats of the Metro are rather crazy, but I like me some Chopin in the morning and Heroes del Silencio in the evening. On Thursday when I was coming back from La Latina really late at night, I missed my iPod. Earlier this evening when I was writing postcards, I missed my iPod and listening to the dulcet tones of Holst's "Planets" or my piano rendition of "If You Could Hie to Kolob."

I had sunk into a bit of a depression. That was three years' worth of music and a some really, really good Bollywood and Coldplay songs that I was going to have to replace. The iPod probably isn't even worth any monetary value because it's so old, so a curse upon the thief who took it from me!

This evening, the veil covering my eyes lifted.

I found my beautiful little iPod sticking out of a pocket in my purse. I had perused my purse multiple times before this, so you'll believe me when I did a double-take. It was like my slim, black, red earphone-wrapped iPod had magically appeared. I investigated more closely, and realized that for the last week my scripture-journal had been wedged in the same pocket - the iPod must have slipped between the pages.

I was so happy to find such a little thing, and I promptly fell down on my knees and offered a prayer of thanks to Heavenly Father for helping me find my iPod. It's an iPod for crying out loud, nothing special at all, but (in all seriousness) praise the Lord! He has helped me find something as inconsequential as music to ease my journeys to and from work and to enrich my life when I find myself alone.

It might also be a not-so-subtle hint that I should use my scripture journal more frequently than I have been wont to.

This may constitute the first in a series of "Mormon Moments." How long the series goes, I do not know, but I have at least one more post planned.

Sitting Outside Heaven's Door

The title is some of the lines from "Breathing" by Life House. I feel that that is something to look forward to - to be content with getting as near we can to perfection, even if we cannot attain perfection ourselves.

I wanted to title this post "Death's Doorstep" because it seems like death has suddenly come very close to some of the people I love. Specifically, in the form of cancer. Both my aunt and one of my best friends have recently undergone serious treatments. My aunt is in her mid-50's; my friend is 20. Suddenly life seems so tender. Less provokingly so, I've had friends struggle with other health issues, body image issues, faith. Self-esteem and feeling adequate.

It's hard being so far away from them.

We're all born broken, I think, and it seems that we keep on breaking up into smaller and smaller pieces as life goes on, even though we try and patch ourselves up as best we can. Whether our problems are psychological, emotional, physical... we all have them.

I want to fix everyone so that they stop hurting.

I Have Some Responsibility Now

So today Midori let me know that our mutual friend - and also follower! - Fatima gave a shout-out to me and my blog during a Relief Society lesson at Church on Sunday (a women's meeting during the normal church hours for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, of which I am a member). Although I don't think that touting my blog during a religious meeting is exactly the paragon of appropriateness, I am still grateful that she thought of me and wanted to share my adventures with the women I care about back home.

May the Lord bless my endeavours here in Spain, on this blog, and in the adventures yet to come. Now would be an opportune time, I think, to share part of my testimony: I believe in Jesus Christ, that He is, that He lives, that He is my Saviour, and that his servant Joseph Smith restored the Gospel and the priesthood keys in its fulness. Heavenly Father is very much in our lives, and He will speak directly to us, as well as through living prophets, seers, and revelators. My favourite parts of the Gospel are the promise that families can be together with our Heavenly Father, that I personally can be redeemed from all my sins, and that I can get better and overcome whatever challenges, defects, and failings I have in order to live once again with my Heavenly Father.

It's not much, but it has the most important stuff down, I believe. May this blog be a means to share the Gospel with the world, if even in a small way. Also, Jefferson, I hope you see this - your own blogs, 1 (Aim and Ignite) and A (The Latter-Day Saint Blog), have been an inspiration to me to be a better Latter-Day Saint.

Mormon Blogs

I was taking a look at some other blogs earlier today to get a better sense of what some other people are saying. So that no equivocations may be made, I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (popularly known in the media as "Mormons"). Mormon blogs have piqued my interest recently, and I became familiar with Brother Matsby's "My Religious Blog." It led me down the rabbit hole into a compendium of LDS blogs about children, marriage, and life at BYU (generally).

No comprehensive evaluation of the blog quality and content has been taken, but after one blog about how cute someone's kids are, I started to get bored. My dissociative personality order has arisen again: my nascent editor-self wanted to critique many of these blogs for craft and content. A few points about these people stood out to me, which I repeat below.

Someone thought everyone else appreciated her quality of "telling it like it is and appreciating [her] for it." Another person said she was a good driver, yet she had been in multiple accidents. A slightly more interesting blog critiques the U.S. government and says that his blog is the place where reason, rationality, and politics meet, but it makes swathing assumptions about people that would not be acceptable at a Californian liberal arts college and distorts the terms "common sense" and "reason."

This motions to the discrepancies between self-perception and how the self is perceived by others. Various ideas in my head are resounding about the spotlight effect and the individual's aggrandized view of self-importance, but I cannot critique more. I do the same thing myself. I want to resent these blogs because they're Mormons writing about themselves. Whether I don't like it because they're normal people trying to write about themselves, that they're not talking about religion, or that their writing gives Mormons a "bad intellectual name," I don't know. I want to distinguish myself from them; although Mormons have been officially encouraged to gain education by our Church leaders, an intellectual tradition still seems far from being realized. I feel that education is a means to an end for many Mormons - that end being a job. Sometimes, I feel that tug, too, to give up my intellectual pursuits and get a job because intellectual work is exhausting, and it's difficult to see sometimes what I am creating and producing.

However, I cannot remain in my caustic little bubble for long. I am touched by the endearing "list of things I will do" this year or throughout the course of my life; that reminds me of what my brother does, and what I have done as well. The irascible double-standard is encoded in my thought processes just as much as it is in anyone else's. I castigate the girl who's gotten into three car accidents while claiming still to be a good driver, but I accept the dreamer who wants to do a hundred improbable things before he dies. Perhaps because dreams are outside of the realm of the rational and go to the core of the individual's psyche. How can I judge the core of an individual? And despite our politics and intellects, dreams are something we all have in common.