September 2004 Update

September 2004 Update


Adjusting to a new culture can sometimes feel like an emotional roller
coaster. One minute you're praising God for what a wonderful place He has
brought you to, and the next minute (for no apparent reason), you're livid
because there doesn't seem to be one person in all of Spain that knows how
to make a real milkshake! And sometimes cultural adjustment can be just
plain hilarious. This month I'm going to take some time to tell you about
one important piece of Madrid culture that has caused all of these emotions
in me-the Metro.

The metro is Madrid's subway system-usually the quickest way to get from
one side of town to the other. There are no traffic jams, no crosswalks,
and no gas bills. You pay for your monthly pass, and you have public
transportation to get you where you're going. And no matter how far you
wander in the city, as long as you can find one of those red and blue
diamonds, you can get home. The metro is your friend.

The metro itself has its own personality. There are the
businessmen who manage to read the free metro newspaper from the time they
start down the stairs , stand on the platform, get on the train, find a seat
or a pole to hold on to, get off the train, and climb back up the
stairs-never looking up, never tripping, and never acknowledging the
existence of anyone else. There are the people who think the no smoking
sign is just for decoration, and then there are people who stand nearby and
complain loudly, hoping that they will hear. There is the old man who
accidentally jabs you in the thigh with the end of his umbrella and then
glares at you as if to say "How dare you get in the way of my umbrella!"
There are guitarrists, singers, and accordian players who hop on the train
and play, hoping to collect some change, and there are babies that coo and
smile and entertain everyone on the train. There are always the odd
tourists in Birkenstocks who have their metro maps out and suddenly realize
they are on the wrong train, and there is the old woman who looks at their
feet and shakes her head, because they should know better than to wear
sandals before June. I love the metro. It makes me feel like I'm at home
in Madrid. I know my way around it, I know which trains are slow and which
are a pain, and I'm learning which stations are the best for switching
trains and which car I should be in to come out nearest to the exit I need.
I get a kick out of helping tourists figure out where they need to go. The
Metro makes me feel like this is my city. I have been especially proud of
my balance on the Metro. I knew I was no longer obviously new to the Metro
when I started leaning against the wall instead of holding onto the bar, or
when I could just stand up without holding onto anything and keep my balance
perfectly. I am so cool.

What's that you say? God "gives grace to the humble?" Maybe
that's why I've had a few ungraceful episodes on the Metro! I realized that
maybe I don't quite "own" the metro yet one day when I was on line 8. Line
8, the pink line, goes from the center of town to the airport. It is one of
the newest lines, so it's very clean and VERY fast. Still, it's the Metro,
and I can handle it, right? One rainy March morning I stood smugly at the
end of one of the cars of line 8, looking at all the tourists with their
bags, holding on for dear life. Poor things! It was really too bad no one
had as good balance as I have.

It was about this time that line 8 hit a curve-did I mention
it is VERY fast?-and gravity decided it was time to get to know my
neighbors. There was no time to reach for a bar, no wall to lean against.
Before I was aware of what was happening, I found myself flying face first,
straight into the stomach of a man standing a few feet away. The poor guy
was reading a book, and then suddenly he was being driven into the wall
while some crazy American girl had evidently decided now was the time to
test the laws of inertia. Inertia works, by the way. A million thoughts
went through my mind in that split second. First, ouch! Second, a
prayer-"please, God, let this NOT have just happened!" Third,what should I
say when I stand up? Here I am splatted onto another person like a bug on a
windshield-what's the cultural etiquette here? What is the stinking word
for excuse me?!?!?!?! I don't remember anything about this guy except the
fact that he wore a dark blue button-up shirt-I saw it up close-but I'm
pretty sure he remembers me.

This is only one in a string of idiotic things I've done
here. My friend April says you can claim jet lag for all the dumb things
you do in the first few weeks, then cultural adjustment for a whole year!
Thankfully, on this system, I still have an excuse! What will I use next
year?



Here are some prayer requests for this month:

**Pray that my passion for God increases daily.

**Pray for unity among Christians in Madrid, especially among Christian
university

students and those who are doing student ministry.

**Continue to praise God for and pray for the Mountainview International
Church-that

we would continue to seek HIM together as a church

**Pray for the Wednesday night community group as everyone comes home
from

holiday and we start our study of Hebrews-ask God to speak to us as a
group

and personally from His word

**I register for classes September 13, and classes begin Oct. 2. Ask God
to give me

peace and to already be preparing relationships with students that will
build up His kingdom.

**Ask God to raise up a team of staff to come to Madrid and work with
university

students.

**Tons of new international students are pouring into Madrid right now.
Pray that God

will use this time to draw them to Him and get them involved in a
Christian community.



"Now to HIM who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or
imagine, according to HIS power that is at work within us, to HIM be the
glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever
and ever. Amen!" Eph. 3:20-21





Praising HIM,

Kelly Wills