I made it...

more to come...

love,
mel

On my way...

I'm sitting in Heathrow airport waiting to board my plane to Uganda. Ive been in London for several hours now -- needless to say, I'm become well acquainted with Terminal 4. I just wanted to write a quick update before this robbery of an internet cafe eats my bank account away...

As just stated... i am officially on my way to Uganda! I am so excited, slightly nervous, and also very exhausted... but i am definitely anticipating stepping off of that airplane.

The last few days have been wonderful and thought provoking.. ive had several moments where i just knew God was preparing my heart for whats ahead - through unforeseen events and emotions... I'll elaborate more later as the time on this computer is about to expire. I just wanted to briefly capture the moment and let everyone know that all checked out and i am officially on my way to Lira, Uganda. :)

Thank you for your prayers.

I will write more when i can... hopefully soon.

Love you all,
Melody

Surprise Birthday in Spain!

(I had to do some magical editing to that photograph.)

My friends are the greatest! seriously. How else would you explain the surprise birthday party they threw for me last night? Yep. They really did. I love them!!

We spent the day shopping and sunbathing... a perfect way to turn 22. Little did I know, that all day long (behind my back) they were inviting people - locals, tourists, police men, you know.. the obvious invitees.

At night, we got all dolled up, had a delicious midnight dinner, and then... they told me they had a surprise for me! Surprise? Was Raul proposing?! (don't hold your breath... it wasn't christmas. )

Without further ado, they blindfolded me, told me not to ask any questions, and began parading me through the city. At one point, Emily, who was holding my arm (kinda like my own seeing eye dog.... she'll die when she reads that) started to talk quietly to the other girls about if it was a good time to turn the corner yet or if she should distract me longer. I was like, "Emily, I'm blind, not deaf!" We all had a good laugh and they decided it best to turn the corner. Shocker.

Just as we rounded the turn, they escorted me into Cafe Burunda (our favorite little bar here) and as my blindfold came off, everyone started singing "Happy Birthday"... well, that and some other strange and wonderful basque song. :) Aren't these girls amazing?

Needless to say, we all had a fabulous last night together!

Sadly, almost all of them went home today. Em and I are the only ones left. We both board our planes tomorrow. Em heads back home, and I'm off to Africa. I can't wait!

I'm so thankful. Truly. God has blessed with incredible friendships...

Hopefully I'll find time to write before I board my plane...

love you all so much,
mel

BarTHelona

The girls and i are in Barcelona right now, aka ¨Barthelona.¨ this city´s pretty sweet. there´s all this art and crazy archictecure all over the place by a guy named Gaudi. he´s responsible for all these mosaics and these insane looking buildings, including one enormous cathedral, the Sagrada Familia, which we visited today. Gaudi died 80 years ago, during the building of this massive project... and it´s STILL NOT FINISHED. they are projecting it´s completion date to be sometime in 2025. im telling you... ive never seen anything like it. It´s breathtaking.

Gaudi was also really into mosaics... and for those of you who have been inside my backyard back home... think that kind of art all over a major city. My mom is quite the artist herself - she and Gaudi would have been good friends.

tomorrow morning we head back to san sebastian for our last few days here. Sam, kayli, kari, and ashley all fly out on wednesday - which makes my birthday our very last day together. (em leaves on thursday, as do i.) im getting old this year. a little nervous about it... not gonna lie. i mean, the next big celebration isnt until im 30, huh? 30! that´s crazy. but at least the night life here will allow for a seemingly extended celebration this year. hehe... no one even goes out to the discos until 2 or 3 in the morning and then stays until 7am... it´s ridiculous. but it should come in handy on the night of the 13th. which by the way.. you know how Friday the 13th is bad luck in America? yea, well tuesday the 13th is bad luck in Spain. go figure....

and the whole sleep schedule thing... with sunsets sometime after 10pm.... dinner at 11:30pm... dancing at 2:ooam... and bedtime at 6:30/7am.... just totally verifies my spanish bloodline. it´s all starting to make sense. now when people give me a hard time about my sleeping habits im going to explain to them how they are, in fact, discriminating against me. hehe.


(taken just before sunrise. i was missing raul, and kayli... well.. we're not sure, either.)

and to change pace once again...

i could definitely use everyones prayers as some plans for Uganda have changed around a bit.

as of now, i will be the only Westerner there upon my arrival for at least 5 days. George, the national we have partnered with, is scheduled to pick me up from the airport and bring me back to the village.... i am not worried that my safety will be anymore in jeopardy without my american comrades, but needless to say, i am expecting my comfort zone to be stretched quite a bit. i figure the latter is okay to walk into... and thankfully the first isnt being compromised by the absence of my friends in the beginning of my trip.

i am actually overwhelmed with excitement... maybe a little nervous excitement.... but mostly just confidant that it will be an exciting adventure. i am trusting that God knew what would happen all along... and if He´s not surprised, then it comes down to me reevaluating and making sure His timing is still aligned - and then trusting Him, and walking forward. As of now, im flooded with excitement and anticpation about the forthcoming experience... but my moms blessing is also important to me - and she is slightly more rational than I and has yet to arrive on the same page as me. We are both aware of the risks at hand when anyone enters eastern Africa... Uganda is in the middle of a civil war, and there is a rebel army lurking in the bush, etc... but i have faith that God is the one leading the way.

For my heart to receive this burden to go so deeply is something that doesnt logically line up with how i would have foreseen my life. and yet, there is a passion behind it that is only explainable by God having given it to me. My life has always known God´s faithfulness and redemption. Every single day. As i sort through questions and thoughts and frustrations - i know i can faithfully follow as he has always proved to be on the other end. This time should be no different.

All that to say, while i am still open to changing my plans should it appear wiser, i am currently planning on leaving on thursday. and i would definitely appreciate your prayers. we serve a big God. if you can believe, there is still more to say... but alas, the internet is closing and i must pack to leave barcelona in the morning.

these last few days especially, i have been overwhelmed with gratefulness. these girls here are amazing, the adventure ahead is thrilling, and im blessed to say that i can also look forward to my friendships and family back home.

im thankful. very thankful. i would love to hear from you guys if you get a chance. tell me whats going on back home and in your lives. i miss everyone.

i´ll only be able to check my email up till wednesday night my time ( which is like wednesday morning california time).... so if you get a chance to shoot me an email, please try to send it before then so i can reply. :)

so much love,
melody

basque police officers make great tour guides

Did i mention we made friends with 3 san sebastian police officers? We did... Mickey, Joxean, and Aitor... (basque names)... they are so nice and have taken us all over the place.



Last week, they drove us up the coast to these itty bitty seaside basque towns. all the towns smelled like fish, had colorful little buildings along the water, and stretches of sand with nude locals.



one place we went had a ¨road¨ leading from the shore out to an island in the middle of the water.. when the tide is out, it is shallow enough to carefully walk across (as moss and sea urchins have grown all over it)... While making our way to the island, i remember feeling so surreal. It was beautiful... i felt like i was inside a painting of some wonderfully talented Creator. And then remembered, i was.



Later that day we went to another city that is famous for its own island....



There is a bridge that take you across to the island followed by 239 stairs that take you to the tippy top!!!



Sitting at the very top is a beautiful church from the 1300s.



my friends and i were practically the only people there.... we kept ringing the church bell, taking it all in, and exhausting our tour guides by handing them multiple cameras every 5 seconds. it was just before sunset... the view from there was stunning. It probably would have been my favorite stop if it weren't for my bias...

:::my favorite stop:::

on our way back to san sebastian, we made one final stop in a little seaside town called, Mundaka. This is where my grammy was born and raised before she moved to New York as a young teenager!! Today, this quiet little town boasts one of the longest waves in the world... making it extremely popular in the surfing world. Surfers aside, there's not many tourists. It's very small with generations of families occupying its little streets and old homes. i've never had a chance to do anything like that before -- that is, sought out my family roots like that, and im so glad i did! it was a very cool experience. (next stop, beirut, lebanon. time to explore my grampy´s family history.)

love you all mucho mas,
melodia de gozo

Basque Country

Did I mention I'm quarter Basque?? True Story.

So in the words of my people, Kaixo! :)

(or as I am slightly more familiar with, Hola!)

San Sebastian falls in the part of Spain known as Basque Country. Most everyone speaks Spanish, but they also speak Euskara... which is the language of the Basque people. It is unlike anything else i have ever heard. It seems like almost every word has the letter ¨X¨in it.

The basque people are actually very detached from Spain - in fact, they have been trying for years to claim their independence from spain. they have a different culture, different language, and even different food. everyone talks about basque food being really good -- but all i know is that everything has ¨Iberian Ham¨ in it and it really freaks me out.

All the bars (which by the way, spain has more of than any other european country according to one source) have ¨tapas¨on the counter... they´re these little plates of food with all sorts of strange combinations... ham, egg, fish... and lots of other things. im branching out -- trying weird things... im really working on the whole picky eater thing... but i still prefer to skip out on the meat when i can. The potatoe, tortilla, & egg bocadillos have become my favorite little meal aqui. yes, im really growing up. :)

everyone here is so friendly, welcoming. accomodating, helpful, and just genuinely excited to share their home with us. so far, it seems that theyre not even operating with ulterior motives, simply a lot of refreshing sincerity.ive seen more men with children here than a years worth in california. dad´s are always out on walks pushing strollers, holding their children, buying them ice cream, taking them to the beach... it´s great. the men are very paternal... very polite... very non-homophobic. occasionally one will walk inside the disco who smells like he just got done fighting a bull, but minus those few exceptions, we´re all impressed by the nice basque boys.

oh yeah, i fell in love last week. With a spaniard, or shall i say basque man. And he doesnt speak a lick of english... so you know it´s pretty serious. :) I told him he was muy guapo and i think he said that thats what his mom always says. Gosh i love him. Im wondering if i prioritized english too high on the list of necessities in a relationship. any advice??

hmm.... if i dont come home... look for a gorgeous basque man named Raul.

seriously. dual citizenship would be my dream come true.

only half kidding,
mel

San Sebastian!

I'm here!! With a handful of my favorite girls on the face of the planet. . . enjoying God's beautiful scenery in this tiny corner of Spain. :)

Paris wound up being a blast... i met enough random people to last me a good while and i also thoroughly enjoyed wandering the streets alone all day. It´s a great city to purposefully get lost in.

But when it came time to leave, i was even more excited because i knew my friends were already in San Sebastian.

Quick side note: I dont remember if i mentioned how i got ripped off on my cab ride in NYC.... but yeah, the stupid driver charged me $80.... ya, $80 to get from JFK airport to the hotel! The girls told me later they only paid $45. And i thought the driver was just so nice... we talked the whole time... about india, christianity, hinduism, his ex girlfriend, the yankees,... i mean, i really just thought it must have been normal to be so expensive. he was so nice. Err...
and THAT about sums up what sometimes happens in New York.

I say that because when i landed in San Sebastian, i had absolutely no idea which direction to start heading towards to find my friends and my ¨pension amaiur¨ -- (kinda like a glorified hostel.) I didnt know if i could walk there, or should find a bus, or take a cab... the map was really unclear. So I opted for another cab ride to be on the safe side. While waiting, a nice man and woman offered to share their cab with me. I was stoked.... well, turns out the man spoke really good english and helped our cab driver find my place. Then, I went to pay for it, and he told me not to worry about it... i insisted, but he put my money away, smiled, and said, ¨Welcome to San Sebastian.¨
and THAT about sums up what sometimes happens here.

(Dont get me wrong... NY is great... you just gotta stay on your toes.)

All the girls from NY, plus my old roommate Emily and my friend Liz were all waiting for me here... in this fabulous little beach town we are all quickly falling in love with.

I'll write more about San Sebastian next time... but for now, i'll leave with this fun fact:

If ever there was a time my immaturity totally superceded my self control it has been here. For those of you who havent heard before, or maybe were like me and thought it was just some exaggerated myth.... i tell you the truth - EVERYONE has a lisp. Ok fine, Almost everyone.

and it gets me everytime!!

I´m constantly biting my tongue and doing my best to be respectful and decent and appear unaffected... but it takes everything in me to keep from falling over from laughing so hard. How do you take someone ¨theriouthly¨ when they have a these thick lisps? At home I usually never even notice when someone does... but for some reason - maybe just because ¨Thi¨and ¨Grathiath¨are words i hear all day long - i just cant get past it.

Thintherely,

Melody Wilthon

Paris makes my heart beat

I'm a very happy girl again. Here I am. Finally. I landed this morning at 7:40am and eventually found myself at my new home for the next 28 hours.

When I arrived in Paris, i had no reservations, no map, and no Euros.

But after squeaking out a few rough sentences from high school French, several tries, and lots of patience, I wound up at some hostel in the city centre, with a guy named Jesse from New Jersey who bears a striking resemblence to Cory Matthews. After we paid for our hostel room, checked all our crap in, (and got past the awkward two twin beds that were pushed together by the hostel staff --ah, Europe) we parted ways for the day.

This city is by far one of the most magical places I have ever been. For those of you who read European Escapades, you might remember my obsession with it. For those of you who havent, you'll soon understand. This place makes my heart beat. I love it. I love the smells. I love the cobblestone. I love the language. I love the sparkling lights on the Eiffel Tower. I love the crepes. I love the artEsts. I love the architecture. I love the Siene River. I love the accordian players on the metro. I love the paintings. I love the way art and love and life and beauty are celebrated.

It's really wonderful being here.

I'm about ready to head off to my favorite church - Sacre Coeur - the Sacred Heart ---- and hoping to have some good prayer time, ipod time, and journal time. I'm also hoping to get in Montmarte, Notre Dame, the Louvre, the Champs d' Elysee, the Arc de Triumph, and of course... the Eiffel Tower. I'm saving the Eiffel Tower until dark.... when it sparkles.... all i remember is that it's breathtaking. Who knew a massive piece of steel could be so captivating?

Anyways... it's about time for me to leave and make the most of this short excursion. First, let me just preface the remainder of this journal a little bit.

I am expecting to experience a range of emotion over the next few weeks. When I first planned this trip I was really weirded out by having two very different types of trips back to back. Two very different worlds will be colliding in a sense. It was strange planning for my graduation celebration vacation (i didnt even realize that rhymed) and silmultaneously preparing to enter eastern Africa....without any kind of a break inbetween.

But now, I'm excited about the paradox being so close in time.

I'm really hoping that it will produce some good heavy thinking on the matter. I'm already trying to understand how it is that God pronounced this earth "good" and wants us to live life abundantly, and yet, that His heart breaks for injustice and people in need and desires us to be apart of His plan for transformation. How does one adequately do both? Or do one without thinking about the other? Or enjoy one without feeling guilty? Or enjoy another without being prideful? That's just the surface of some questions floating around my head. Somewhere I think there's a line of balance. I'm just not sure how it all fits together yet. I'm not necessarily expecting to have some magical moment when it all clicks, but I'm hoping this traveling dichotomy forces me to process through these thoughts a little better.

So yea, I apologize in advance for how sparatic the following entries will likely be. I'm just going to write openly and honestly as I experience. I mean, the world's mine oyster, right? haha. I'll probably sound like an idiot more often than not. :)

Thanks for reading.I miss everyone. If you get a chance, please email me and catch me up on your lives. melodyjwilson@gmail.com I would love to hear. Really.

avec amour,
mélodie

The World's My Oyster

I know, it´s a weird title.... So, upon graduating, I can't tell you how many times I've heard that strange phrase "the world is your oyster." My response usually included a confused smile and a head nod. But inside I was wondering what exactly does that mean? And honestly, where the heck did it come from? So, i did some homework, and turns out - Shakespeare first coined the term in his comedy, "The Merry Wives of Windsor." And if Shakespeare said it, then it must have some profundity to it. Right? Well, even if not - it's about as creative as I can get after sleeping a total of 2 hours in well over 24. The point being, if Shakespeare said it, then who's going to argue me for applying it to my account of traveling this oh so small world?

So here I am, in Paris, alone. I've had an interesting last few days to say the least.

But let me first catch up on New York... what a city.



I used to know a good man named Tom. With a long explanation I could show how we were in fact related, but rather than dive into family history, just know Tom was family. (I only said that so you wouldn't think he was some creepy old man "friend" from New York..... cause Lord knows, New York has many of those. ) So, Tom was from New York, and he was quite the Yankees fan. When I was younger, I happened to think I was incredibly "cool" because I played softball and knew a few things about baseball. But because I was from LA, I blindly loved the Dodgers. In fact, one year my little league team was able to go into their locker room before a game and meet the players and get some signatures --- which only made it worse... it went straight to my head. My blind devotion to them is quite embarrassing as I recall it today. So there I was, an annoying 10 year old who thought I was pretty slick stuff because I knew some stats on Mike Piazza. Well, then I got to know Tom. And Tom was good at many things in life. But in particular, what I remember about him was his good-hearted banter about our favorite baseball teams. I remember he would tease me about the Dodgers, remind me real baseball was found inside Yankee stadium, and if and when I really wanted to argue it - that the only good from the Dodgers came from the fact they were originally from New York. Unfortunately, he knew WAAY more than I did, so he always won those little arguments, but I held my ground. When I was in high school, Tom died in a car accident. And it wasn't until this last weekend that I made my first ever trip inside Yankee Stadium. Well, he was right. There is nothing like it. The smell, the announcer, the cheering and jeering, the fans, the sunshine, the hot dogs ... all wrapped up into the grand American pastime known as baseball. And so, if ever any doubt remained in my mind, I discovered on Sunday - Tom was right. As that thought crossed my mind, I imagine God shared it with Tom, and Tom was smiling big.

Kayli and I enjoyed the rest of the weekend, and on Sunday night, her roommates arrived - Sam, Ashley, & Kari.



A pleasant surprise upon my arrival was that we just so happened to be there during Fleet Week... which means that our navy boys - sailors to be exact, were docked in NYC for a week. Everywhere we looked were groups of men in white uniforms taking pictures w/ giggly girly tourists. Why should we be any exception? hehe. The girls and I went out dancing our last night there and we must have found the sailor jackpot. In the sole spirit of Patriotism, we decided to dance with them. God bless the USA.

On a very different note, another highlight was our Memorial Day service. With exception to one of the guest speakers who somehow tried to equate 9/11 with the judgment of God -- (I did all I could to restrain myself from pulling the pulpit out from under him) -- the service was really moving. We spent the morning in St. Paul's Church - with Ground Zero just outside. Kayli and the choir sang for the last time that morning. While their voices echoed through George Washington's beautiful home church, we reflected on the importance of memorials. Sometimes, I think that as Americans we are terrible at this. We are great at the Patriotism we can conjure up after horrific events, and we are great at recounting our strengths - often with disregard to its cost of other´s weaknesses - but it seems, that as a country, we have yet to learn how to grieve, how to lament, or even how to heal. Really heal. Beyond the quick fix. We often seem to opt for the immediate cure-all bandaid assuming we can ignore the future scar tissue, rather than take the time to walk through the entire healing process - which would require us to face the pain, and sometimes the responsibility. Maybe I am reading my own personal struggles into this - and somehow trying to make myself feel better by labeling my nation as a fellow culprit. But I guess it's just been on my mind lately ... as I have been trying to sort through our Western role in many terrible things this world has experienced. I digress. But somehow, the short memorial day service was well spent - reflecting, mourning, and celebrating some of the collective highs and lows our country has undergone. A wise man once said, "Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it." I'm sure this theme will come up again on my trip....

So, all in all, New York was wonderful. The best two hours arguably spent inside Yankee Stadium. Yes, I was a happy girl on Sunday afternoon...

I'll write some more on Paris in a little bit...

love love love,

melody