The Little White Village

After spending about five weeks in Ireland, the time came for me to say goodbye and continue on to the next part of my adventure: Spain. I arrived in Spain on July 4 (a little sad to have missed my favorite U.S. holiday) to participate in the G42 Leadership Academy as an intern and student. At the airport, I was greeted by one of the teachers who drove me back to the G42 house where 8 other interns and a few other staff members had dinner waiting for me.

There is so much I would like to share about G42 and what I've been doing here in Spain, but I think the best way to start is to tell you a little about where I'm at and the town I live in.

the gorgeous Costa del Sol

G42 (which you can be sure I will write more on later) is located in Mijas Pueblo, Spain, about thirty minutes from the city of Malaga. If you aren't familiar with Malaga, it is the sixth largest city in Spain, located on the Costa del Sol in a southern region of Spain called Andalusia. Mijas Pueblo, a quaint "white village" set off the coast of the Mediterranean and nestled up in the mountains, is about thirty minutes from the city center of Malaga. Only twenty minutes down the mountain lies the decently large city of Fuengirola, home to the G42 interns' favorite beach (of course!).


If you come to Mijas, surprisingly you might not find too many Spaniards. What you will find, in abundance, are tourists and travelers on holiday from all over the world. Walking the cobblestone streets of the picturesque town you are certain to pass Japanese, Germans, Scottish, Indians - people from all countries and all cultures - shopping, sightseeing, touring, and relaxing. Along the sides of the windy, narrow roads of Mijas, dozens of tourist shops, trinket stores, and authentic Spanish restaurants boast their bright colors to draw in naive travelers who are convinced they need one more piece of pottery, jewelry, key chain, or glass of Sangria. With unmistakable hats, sunglasses, and cameras, excited new visitors are everywhere you turn, adding a lively and bubbly spirit to a sunny and friendly town.

a little restaurant we often refer to as "the blue chair place"

Beginning around ten in the morning, the town swiftly buzzes with excitement as new tourists arrive, coming spend the day discovering the charm of Mijas. And charm it is - at any moment walking down the street you might need to pause and stand aside to let a horse carriage with delighted passengers spin through or to allow a long line of donkeys transporting weary travelers clop by. In addition to the alluring brightly colored Spanish items outside of every shop, you'll be enchanted by the brilliant white of the traditional houses and apartments all through the town. A leisurely walk out to the Lookout Point offers not only a panoramic view of the Mediterranean coastline but also a perfect display of the white village houses stacked up on the side of the mountain, perfectly accented with red tiled roofs, tranquil terraces, and tiny dark windows.

Inside those windows are stories that go back decades. Most of the Mijaños, or citizens of Mijas, have lived in their houses for their entire lives, meaning there are a lot of old folks around! Since most houses in Mijas don't have air conditioning, you will often find the bright green or red doors of the Mijaños propped open while the sun beams down on the whitewashed walls in the heat of the day. In the evening, the streets tend to empty of tourists and instead fill with Mijaños who have migrated outside to their doorsteps and terraces to enjoy the cool and refreshing sea breeze. If you travel down to the plaza at the end of our street, at any time of the day you will always find a group of old men in wide-brimmed hats, resting on benches and beaming their toothless smiles at all the new faces strolling by. A little further up from the plaza sits a bull ring at the top of a sloping hill, a popular destination for tourists to visit during summer stays. During the summer months, trumpets and fanfares can be heard echoing through the streets of Mijas, announcing the beginning (or victory... to be honest, I'm not sure quite yet) of a bull fight.

old men in the plaza

On Tuesdays and Thursdays in the summer, Mijas holds a market in the Plaza Mayor, proving to consistently be a well-attended social gathering that provides common ground for both the locals and the visitors. Local artists and artisans set up booths to display and sell their creations while salsa and pop music boom through the plaza until all hours of the night. At midnight, salsa dancing lessons start, and teenage girls crowd up at the front while young parents with toddlers and holidaying old couples dance shamelessly off to the side or from the back. Spain is a country of freedom; everybody lives life to the fullest and is not afraid to enjoy it. It's a beautiful thing. Last week at the midnight dance lessons, my heart was warmed watching a mother dance with her baby, a lone traveler with eyes closed dancing with all his might, and a British couple with their arms around each other, nodding their heads to the music. Spain allows people to be liberated, to express themselves, to indulge.... and to be happy. It's a place of family, friendship, laughs, good food, rest, and adventure.

the view from my balcony

The only downside is that the rest part seems to come at the most inopportune time, at least for my schedule. In the past few weeks, I have come to view Mijas as the city that never sleeps. Up until two or three in the morning, people are out eating dinner on the streets, talking in the square, or blaring music. And even if they're not, city workers will be sure to provide whatever noise might have been lacking - like the trash truck at 2 am or street sweepers a 7 am - all great services, but at completely inconvenient times. I suppose the reason it is such a bother to me is because of the location of our house. G42 owns two houses on Calle San Sebastian, a beautiful street near the center of Mijas. In fact, it's so beautiful that it's the most photographed street in all of Southern Spain. That means that at all hours of the day, there are Europeans, Americans, and plenty of Japanese tourists in bucket hats and armed with cameras meandering down our street, peering into our windows. And since we often leave the door open to circulate the air, we even have a few uninvited visitors come strolling into our entryway every now and then ;-) To perfectly illustrate how popular our street is, I can tell you that the very first day I arrived in Mijas, I walked out onto the balcony outside my room (hanging over onto the street) to hear an British girl about my age proclaim, "This is such a gorgeous street!" She then proceeded to nudge her boyfriend and point up to me, the "girl on the balcony," as I stared questioningly from above. "Smile for a picture!" She eagerly shouted as she pointed the camera nose at me.

our house is right next to the wine museum

This happens all day, every day. Some of the interns told me they used to try to get out of the way when people were taking pictures, but they don't even bother anymore because it would virtually mean being unable to walk to our front door. On the flip side, however, we live on an absolutely gorgeous street! The view from my balcony (even if it often includes tourists taking pictures of me) and from our front door is what people travel miles and miles and sometimes halfway across the world to see! In addition, our house is right next door to a wine museum, so we have made friends with the owner and often take leisurely breaks during the evening to pay him a visit and drink some delicious Spanish wine. Everything in the town is less than a five minute walk from my doorstep, and I can get to the beach or hike a mountain within 20 minutes. One of my favorite parts about our house is the terrace we have in the back, the perfect place to hang out on a warm summer's evening and eat tapas and play games with friends.

I feel so lucky to be able to live in a place like Mijas, but I'm not here for all fun and games! It is an absolute bonus that we get to enjoy such a stunning and magnificent place, but the real reason we are here is to fill our minds and grow our spirits. We attend classes everyday and have been working hard to read, learn, and write, growing into the men and women God created us to be. I will share with you soon who I'm living with and what our daily schedule is like, plus a little bit about what we're learning and what exactly G42 is all about, so stay tuned!

The Hills Really Are Alive

Upon my arrival in Dublin, I was greeted by a nice older man waiting outside the Customs area for me. We retrieved my two large bags, packed them up on a cart, loaded them into his very nice car, and drove to his four story beach house in a suburb of Dublin. He dropped me off, showed me around, and told me he would be back at half three to drive me down to West Cork. Seeing as it was only nine in the morning, I had essentially the whole day to recover from an exhausting overnight flight where I had spent the past 7 hours watching movies and talking to an Irish couple next to me instead of trying to sleep and beat jet lag like I should have been doing. Completely ready to go to sleep for a good eight hours, I was fighting everything in me not to roll into the fluffy huge white bed, comfort comparable to a five star resort's, turn the lights out, and say goodnight to the world. Considering I was hardly able to function, however, I did allow myself a glorious two hour nap.

Getting up was the hardest thing in the world.

I found myself straining my eyes, trying not to close them again and drift back into deep, deep sleep, but I finally mustered the strength to leave the warm, comfy bed only due to the incentive of a nice hot shower waiting for me. The sun was streaming in through the windows and the house looked so lovely. I freshened up, helped myself to some lunch, and went upstairs to sit in the study, overlooking the gorgeous seaside. Foraging through the library, I discovered a book about the West Cork area and snuggled up on the couch for a while to read. It took all of two minutes before I was asleep again.

Before I knew it, the nice man was back and we were loading back up again to begin our four hour drive to West Cork. Although I was tired, I felt very prepared to stay awake considering the pampered welcoming to Ireland I had already had. As one who has a bit of experience with the trek from the U.S. to Europe, I can honestly say I have never had an easier or more comfortable transition while traveling! The timing of the flights from the U.S. make for brutal jet lag, and I'm so used to arriving in Europe in the morning and then starting a very busy day, leaving you completely exhausted by as early as 7 in the evening. I absolutely loved having a chance to rest, relax, and refresh before I had to get down to business. Then I was able to enjoy the relaxing drive down to the family, taking in the green hills and quaint houses, just like I've seen in the movies.

During my first few days here in Ireland, I really took it easy. That's the great thing about West Cork - it's the country so the pace is slow all the time. No one is in a hurry, no one is uptight... everyone is relaxed, calm, and ready to enjoy life! Amanda likes to call the days where you sleep in till noon and lay around in your pajamas and eat pancakes for lunch West Cork Days, because that's what we do here in West Cork! The cars are rickety, divey little things that are anything but fancy, but are great from getting you from here to there. Everyone is friendly and patient, and you know someone will stop by to help you if you ever find yourself in a bind or stranded. It's even rare to lock doors here. House keys are left in the front door and car keys never leave the ignition. It's safe, it's quiet, and it's wonderfully relaxed.

The first time I went out was with Amanda and her friend Gabby, the nice man that picked me up. We drove into Bantry, one of the larger towns nearby, and they dropped me off to walk around and take pictures while they ran some errands. The towns here in Ireland are so cute! None of them in this area are very big, so it is mostly just a bunch of shops lined along one or two streets, all painted different bright, cheery colors. I walked up a hill and found a beautiful church and a cemetery that I explored for awhile and then rejoined Amanda and Gabby before heading home. That was my first Irish exhibition.

The next day was Sunday and Amanda, Meg, and I got up and went to the Protestant church in town together. Most of Ireland is Catholic, so I'm very fortunate to have ended up with a family that is the same denomination as me! We arrived at 11:30, only to find that the services had been combined that week and we were actually thirty minutes late. Oops! We tiptoed in the back and sat down in the wooden pews. The order and layout of the service was very different from your traditional Baptist churches in Texas, but I enjoyed the new perspective on things. We sang some of my favorite hymns - Be Thou My Vision, Before the Throne, and In Christ Alone - and even did communion, knelt down at the altar and using one cup for everyone (I considered passing on that one...). After church, we went into Schull and ate lunch at a bustling little restaurant in town that served crepes as their specialty. We were all stuffed afterwards! Schull happened to be hosting a short film festival over the weekend, so Meg and I spent a little time wandering around the restaurants and shops. Each local business had a different area set up where people could come in and watch the short films that were submitted. Our first stop was a film roll that was powered by bicycles. Five of us got on bikes in front of a screen and cycled hard enough to get the film rolling so we could watch the feature movie. Now that's a way to not be a couch potato! If the power dipped below a certain level, the movie would stop playing, so that meant we had to keep pedaling with a good amount of energy. Not such an easy thing for an out of shape person like me ;-)

We watched a few more films in coffee shops and pubs and then drove home so I could begin my driving lessons. I came over here fully aware that I would have to learn to drive a manual car, not to mention on the opposite side of the road, but things didn't really kick in until I had my first attempt on Sunday. Amanda and I went out in front of the house in the car, she gave me some very clear and thorough instructions on what to do, and then it was my turn to try. I stalled. Then I stalled again. And again. I eventually got the hang of it, a little, but was completely overwhelmed by all the new things to think about - hand brake, clutch, gas, brake, RPMs, speed, left hand side, indicator - so much!! I practiced a few times on my own and became really discouraged (there's a hill outside the house, if that explains anything...). When I went inside, Amanda talked with me and told me that attempting a stick shift for the first time is one of the most discouraging things ever. But she ensured me that I seemed to have a good grasp of it and already seemed to be doing well. I didn't agree at all, but then again she has taught both of her kids and two other au pairs to drive manual, so she really knows how the whole process goes! She told me to take a break to let it settle in, and I might be surprised later when I go back to try again. We discussed plans for the following day and she suggested we go for lunch in town - with me driving. I thought she was crazy... I could barely get out of the driveway.

Apparently Amanda really does know what she's talking about, because I got in the car the next day and drove all the way into town - twenty minutes away! I only stalled once - in the middle of the only intersection in town. I still was getting used to the whole putting the clutch down when you come to a stop.... ;) Luckily we made it though, even through traffic, and it wasn't all too bad. I still have a long ways to go, but at least I am capable of doing what I came here to do! Amanda and I ended up having a fabulous time in Skibboreen while the girls were in school. We ate at an adorable little cafe right on the river and had some incredibly savory quiche, salad, and potatoes. Walking off a bit of our fullness, we strolled through the cute town and visited a few of Amanda's favorite shops, including a purse shop. After a trip to the grocery store and running a few other errands, we drove back to Schull just in time to pick the girls up from school.

Earlier that morning I had had a chance to take a walk through the hills around the house. It was spectacular. The sun was out, and it was one of the most beautiful days I've seen yet since I've been here. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going, but Amanda encouraged me to just get out and explore. So I whistled for Roxy, the family's adorable springer spaniel, and the two of us headed out up the dirt road and into the hills. We happened past a gate with barbed wire around it, but there was a path leading through it, so I climbed over to see what was on the other side. Walking up to the end of the path offered a sight that could literally take your breath away. As far as I could see, tall silky grass stretched across the earth, all the way to the horizon and dropping off mysteriously into a lush forest of trees on the other side.

Roxy was thrilled. Within moments she was leaping through the field, bouncing up and down through the grass to try to see over the top as she ran. It was the cutest thing ever. Her ears flopped up and down and she furiously wagged her tail and panted in delight as she bounded across the rolling hills. I followed right through the path she formed in the tall grass, not exactly sure where she would lead me. After a few minutes of walking and still no end of the field in sight, I paused and stood still for a moment. Gazing across the magnificent field, I listened to the noise of the wind blowing ever so softly through the grass and relished in the moment of stillness, absolutely no sound to be heard except the gentle rustling of nature. I fully expected Julie Andrews to all of the sudden come spinning over the top of the hills, bursting out melodies about the life and music within those hills...

That evening found us at a music recital at Meg's school. The school doesn't have a formal band as part of the curriculum, so the students all take private lessons outside of school and performed their work in a small solo and small ensemble concert. Meg plays the bassoon and did a wonderful job performing a really difficult piece. We all enjoyed watching the other talented students as well, including a twelve year old prodigy on the recorder. During the concert, I considered how the recorder is kind of a joke of an instrument in the U.S.... something we give to little kids to blow and whistle on as just another toy in the toy box. I discovered that day that in Ireland it is much different, and I was astounded by how beautiful of an instrument it can be. The girl who played it was just phenomenal, and the whole audience sat and listened to her play with mouths wide open at her incredible skill and expertise, all at the age of twelve. Her teacher said they're starting her on clarinet as well :)