Thursday, Sept. 8, 10:43 p.m.

It's been two-and-a-half weeks since we returned to the States, which means that I've had a little bit of time to process the World Youth Day experience in my mind.

"Reality" began to hit me hard before the plane even landed. As we were flying over Lake Michigan, I had a sinking feeling as I began to realize just how far away Spain really is - as in, on the other side of the world. And I could feel myself already desperately missing the warmth, the culture and the love that I'd seen and felt in so many people, friends and strangers alike. The pressures of work, school and relationships began to weigh in on my heart once more as the plane began to descend.

World Youth Day has been a life-altering experience that has only highlighted every other aspect of my life, but not in the way I imagined it would. It's changed my perspective on things. When we were in Spain, the worst of our "worries" were outsmarting the heat, making it through the Metro without getting squashed, and facing bathrooms with no toilet paper or soap. And yet, all I had was joy because all I wanted to see was joy. I chose not to see those (other) things. Life the past two weeks hasn't been exactly a cakewalk. I've been getting my butt slightly kicked by classes and work, plus I'm running really low on sleep, but so what? Why can't I be joyful now? Difficulties will be present wherever you go. Even though we're no longer physically going somewhere, life is a spiritual journey at least. Which can only mean one thing: the pilgrimage still continues!

I'd like to share this beautiful prayer written by my good friend, Pablo Lasala Ordovas, a strong young man from Zaragoza with a good heart and quite a gift for music. He wrote this during our time in Roquetas while we were with the immigrants, and he gave me permission to share it. It truly speaks of the desire to see God's grace even when life gets hard:

A Prayer for an Immigrant
Oh Lord, You are my guide.
Oh Lord, You are also their guide.

Why does it happen to me?
Why does it happen to them?

Sometimes we are blind,
Sometimes we manage to see something else.
It is then, when we notice your presence in our lives, in their lives...
...so, it is the moment to intervene...

Thanks God, for allowing me to perceive little things
and so seeing the love you feel for us every day.
Make of us elements to open the world's eyes
and to work for men and women's fulfillment,
in relation to their minds,
in connection with their hearts,
understanding what our soul is telling us.

Amen.

I've been in such awe of my Spain experience because I couldn't believe that I'd found so much love there and seen God so clearly. But the thing is, nothing is stopping me from finding these things here now. I found those things because I kept an open mind to what came our way on our trip, even though it wasn't always easy. Now that I'm realizing that the pilgrimage never really ends, I'm doing my best to keep an open heart to all that presents itself. I'm choosing to see God and all the good here in my normal life, even when things do get tough, and this understanding has made all the difference. Every day will have its struggles, but with this new perspective, it's easier to face these difficulties. The joy is still here. I'm becoming a happier person. And I can still find God in the man on the bus or the child walking down the street.

I'm writing this from the balcony of my house here in Milwaukee. I feel at total peace. The moon is shining, the breeze is gorgeous, my next door neighbors are getting a kick out of the current status of the Packers' game, and my chocolate chip cookies are delicious. I still miss Spain, but hey – Life is good.

Thank you for allowing me to share a piece of World Youth Day with you. I hope you've enjoyed reading these stories that are near and dear to my heart, for it's been a true honor to be able to share my Spanish experiences with all of you here at home.
May God bless you :)

With peace and love,
Sammie

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Friday, Sept. 2, 2:04 a.m.

Hi,
I apologize for the delay in entries! This was our first week of classes at Marquette, so between moving in, starting classes and clinicals, and just adjusting to campus in general, it's been a busy week!

Regardless of campus craziness, the World Youth Day experience hasn't evaporated from my life. Many of my friends can attest that I've been talking about Spain a lot. Trust me on that. And I also know that I'm not the only pilgrim who somehow manages to talk about Spain every five minutes; One of my housemates does it, too :)

But back to World Youth Day. The final weekend took place at Cuatros Vientos Airport, a dusty open field about a three-hour-walk from Madrid.

Yes. I said walk.

I feel like I truly learned the definition of what it means to be a pilgrim that weekend. It got to be about 105 degrees, backpacks were heavy and the road was long, but the entire time I just kept mentally encouraging myself. I kept repeatedly thinking, "Don't complain" during that pilgrimage. I also remember the feeling of continuing to push myself to stay positive and focus on our true purpose at World Youth Day, which was to unite from around the globe for the glory of God. This was all for him.

The Spaniards were so welcoming to us as well. Streets were lined with pilgrims trekking in the heat. Cars would pass by and honk. People would smile and wave and cry out things like, "El Papa!" And local apartment residents eased our trip by splashing buckets of water out their windows from several stories up to help cool us off on our journey. One man even whipped out his hose and sprayed passing-by pilgrims. With all the local support, encouragement and care from the Spanish residents, it was hard not to feel loved. Loved by strangers, no less. Nothing but God could invigorate and use such joy and excitement to unite total strangers.

Vigil was... interesting, to say the least, but I mean that in a good way. It was a powerful experience. Two million pilgrims in itself was overwhelming; Despite being in one of the sections closest to the stage, I still had to rely on one of the nearby giant TV screen stations to follow the proceedings.

That is, until it rained.

Drops came down and mass chaos broke loose. People started running everywhere, but no one had shelter, nor did they have anywhere to run. The sky turned pitch black and the grounds turned to mud. Thunder and lightning crashed down. The TV screens went blank. They started shielding Pope Benedict's face with umbrellas (which, to say the least, was rather amusing because it's not every day that you see the Pope being protected from the weather).

And in the face of all this insanity, people only started praying harder! They pooled into groups and started chanting even louder and harder! "ESTA ES LA JUVENTUD DEL PAPA! ESTA ES LA JUVENTUD DEL PAPA! ESTA ES LA JUVENTUD DEL PAPA!" From what I could tell, very few pilgrims actually left that night to seek shelter. Mostly everyone braved the weather and remained outside for the night. The storm eventually passed and Pope Benedict told us that it was the first World Youth Day to ever experience rain, and he commended us for our spirit and endurance of the storm. Words can't do the experience justice, but it was incredibly beautiful and powerful to see that, in the face of hardship and difficulty, we all chose to stay. We weren't going anywhere. Two million people trusted God and trusted that He would keep us safe, and they shouted their hearts out to him together to show how much they really believe in him, how much they love him. We were one and we were strong in our faith. Nothing could have brought us down at that moment.

The next morning dawned the proceedings for the final Mass. It was a beautiful day, with blue skies, sun and a cooler temperature than the day before. Very few people were able to receive the Eucharist; during the storm before, the Holy Body had been transferred off the site to protect it from the weather, but it was never returned to Cuatros Vientos. That's alright, though - spiritual fulfillment was more than enough.

I've got to head to bed soon (it's 2 a.m. and I have to wake up before 7 a.m.), but before I go, I want to share with you an experience I had during the final Mass.
The Gospel for the Mass was the one where Jesus asks his disciples who they say he is (Mark 8:27). They respond that he is the Christ.

When I heard the reading, I asked myself the same question. I looked to the sky and felt my heart being asked the same question. "Who do you say that I am?" Instantly, I knew the answer. It came without even trying. Somehow I'd managed to discover it on our trip. For me, God is Love.
This realization tied my entire trip together. I came to World Youth Day for three reasons: To find God in a radical, yet tangible way; to serve others and make a difference in their lives; and to have a freeing experience that would ultimately be the making of a new beginning. And in this moment, I felt all these missions being united. Each one had been fulfilled in its own individual way, but now they were becoming linked.

Every time I found God on this trip, it was through interaction with another person: The conversation with the stranger at the Basilic... Growing to love my friend Faco at the nursing home... Playing Spanish games with the two sons of a local immigrant shopkeeper... The beautiful look of awe and love on my friend's face as Maria, her chosen companion at the Residencia, kissed her on the cheek... The expression of constant joy that was rarely missing from our chaperone's face... The Spanish woman who opened our home to us after the final Mass to provide us with bathrooms and food... The transformation of 30 international strangers into one loving family with an unbreakable bond... The voices and faces of pilgrims proclaiming their praise... I found God in people, especially through my service. He was in everyone I met, within their actions, their shared gifts and talents and their hearts. God was everywhere and he continuously showed himself to me.

I was blessed with the opportunity to have spiritual direction with our chaperone when I hit a bump in my journey. A couple instances had taken place where it was seemingly easier to withhold my heart rather than give it fully. At one point, my chaperone asked me when I most feel like myself. My answer? When I'm able to love others or perform random acts of love for them.
And that is how God is present in me, too. For me, God is Love. I did find him in everyone else through acts of love, but I found him in myself as well. If that's not a freeing experience, I don't know what is. With this realization, all my hopes for this trip were united and resolved. Talk about coming full circle.

So, to all of you reading this now, I have some food for thought. Who is God to you? And how is he present within your heart?

Try sleeping on it. That's what I'm about to do right now.
Peace :)

(Post-Reflection to come!)

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Daryn Peres, 20, our second WYD blogger, has shared a few thoughts about his trip, with more on the way. Peres, whose hometown is Dallas, Texas, is studying Information Technologies and Supply Chain Management at Marquette University, Milwaukee. Enjoy!

Wednesday, Aug. 31

Well before World Youth Day we attended this program called Magis which means “the more.” The program was organized by the Jesuits, and it brought together people from around the world who were from a Jesuit parish or university. We all met in Loyola, Spain. This is where St. Ignatius had his conversion and where his basilica is located. It was a phenomenal experience to me, to be in the conversion room where St. Ignatius gave his life to God. In my mind it was the place where everything started, and he was able to see God and the extraordinary work he was doing through people – he read the life of the saints and the Bible because he was recovering from a cannonball striking his leg and books made him start to question his life and about God.

It was interesting to interact with people from different countries, some people knew just very little English but we got by. The experience of people coming together for this Magis and WYD program made me feel that God is at work in the world and in our lives. We played many games and sports together during our free time and I am proud to say that I learned some new games, nursery rhymes and made some new friends. I especially bonded with people from my culture since I am Indian.

After being in Loyola we broke out into our Magis experience groups. Our group was spiritual, and we were grouped with people from Spain and Uruguay, so about 25 people total. Our group was sent into Portugal to a town called Monserrate, which is close to Lisbon, Portugal, and the border of Spain; no one from our group knew Portuguese. Monserrate is a castle on a hill with many small towns surrounding it. In many of these small towns there are no priests because the Portuguese expelled religious orders from the county in the 1940s – I think that is when it happened.

The priests that were in orders ran many of the schools and parishes, and there were very few diocesan priests. So when the religious order priests were expelled, the diocesan priest had to serve in all the parishes but they cannot be in every parish because there are too many of them. So the bishop of Portugal decided that lay people should give the homily in parishes and distribute the Eucharist – they are not consecrating the host but just taking the consecrated hosts from the tabernacle and giving them to the people. These lay people meet with the bishop to discuss what is going on in the community and what their homily is going to be on. The bishop has called this the group of St. Francis Xavier. We joined up with this group and stayed in a local elementary school.

The group of St. Francis Xavier were able to teach us about the culture of the community, the history of the church in Portugal and why their ministry was needed. It was wonderful being able to assist them. This is how most of our days broke down: We would eat breakfast then go down to the lake. At the lake we would have Mass and then a reflection and small group discussion on the day’s readings. After our time at the lake we would eat lunch and have a siesta, or nap; in Portugal everyone has a siesta between 2 and 5 p.m. because it is the hottest part of the day. At 5 p.m., we would then go into the town. Each day our group would do a different activity; it was either playing with the kids or visiting the elderly in their homes. It is interesting to note that in this town there were many widows or women dressed in black. This is because if a woman's husband died, then she wore black for the rest of her life. If a close family member died then a woman will also wear black, but there is no set time for the mourning period of a close family member.

In this town, there was a big age gap of really young people, under age 15, and older people, about age 60 and up. I know we brought joy and love to the youth and to the older people by visiting them, asking about them and their children. Teaching the kids new games and having more people to play with is what really brought them joy and happiness. I know at first I did not realize what we were doing, but after discussion of how the community normally is, I realized that we were making an impact.

After we met with the elderly in their homes and played with the children, we would gather with the community for a reading of the Gospel, a talk about it, to sing some songs as well as share personal testimonies on our faith that went with the Gospel reading. Obviously our personal testimonies were translated so they understood. It was an interesting moment for all of us to hear these testimonies from people from other countries and cultures. Soon the ladies started sharing their own personal stories and lives with us. Through personal stories, we were able to make a real human connection with them and learn about their lives. This made us a part of their community and I know that will have a big impact on our lives. 

As the week went on, we saw more people and the word was getting out that youth from other countries were in their town. They started attending the testimonies talk, which was called “God on the street.” Now that I think of the name, it surely does fit because that is were we found God – we literally were outside the church on the street preaching about God and how he had moved in our lives. Then on Friday, which was the last “God on the Street,” the place was packed. Some of the members of the group of St. Francis Xavier were so surprised that they started to cry because so many people were there to hear the Word of God and how God had impacted their daily life and where they had found God in their life.

On Friday this lady was talking about how her two kids died in a car accident and how our spirit reminded her of them. I do not understand Portuguese, and I can get by on Spanish,  but I understood her emotions and what she was conveying to us. When someone asked me, “Do you understand?”
I said, “Yes, I understand.” Then, she pointed to me and said in Portuguese, “I know he understands,” and then pointed to her heart. I was very thankful for that moment, for meeting that person and having that connection with them.

On Friday, we threw a party in the town and danced the night away. On Saturday, the ladies in the town made dinner for us, which was great. We were sad to leave for WYD Sunday knowing how much this place meant to us and how the experience had impacted our life.

I still have about two more pages in me on, specifically, WYD, and then what I have learned and my reflection on it I did not think it would be this long but apparently there is still a lot of stuff in my head. …

Daryn

To be continued...

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Wednesday, Aug. 24, 4:13 a.m.

You may be wondering why I'm awake at 3:30 a.m. I was wondering the same thing myself at first. I got tired at 7:30 p.m. and woke up spontaneously at 2:30 a.m. because that translates to 2:30 a.m. to 9:30 a.m. in Spanish time. Since I can't sleep and my heart is still in Madrid, this would be an opportune time to write about our time there, right?

The week was rather overwhelming. If we thought the 3,000 MAG+S pilgrims were plenty, boy, were we wrong. In Madrid, there were pilgrims in every direction! We had no chance of even seeing the altar at the opening Mass for WYD because all you could see up and down the street were people - I'm not even sure where the altar even was! Either way, all week they were moving in packs down the streets and overflowing in the metros. I believe a reporter said our presence increased the metro activity by 200 percent; it's a good thing that Spain was still on holiday because I'm not sure how many more people the city could handle!

You know how every now and then the Bible talks about running through the streets rejoicing? I never quite understood that notion until this past week. Everywhere you looked you would find another country belting out a song or people playing ridiculous icebreaker games to pass the time. You also couldn't get very far without hearing cries of "Esta es la juventud del Papa!" or "Benedicto!" or "Viva El Papa! Viva!" People even started creating parodies of popular music to include sentiments of excitement about seeing El Papa (a.k.a. the pope). It was a complete madhouse of energy, excitement and absolute joy!

Oh yeah, the pope. We got to see him! He drove right by us in the PopeMobile the day he arrived in Madrid. People would bolt at the opportunity to even catch a glimpse of him. Any time there was an event over which he presided, such as the Way of the Cross, we would book it to the nearest giant TV screen set up in the middle of a park or a street because there was absolutely no chance of us being anywhere near the event site.

Even with papal activity, Spain didn't give us much of a chance to let our energy go to waste. They opened their restaurants and their metro system to us, and we got lost in a flurry of activity. There were music worship concerts almost every night, catechesis sessions every morning (one of which was given by the hilarious Archbishop (Timothy M.) Dolan, former Archbishop of Milwaukee and current Archbishop of New York, famous speakers galore, including Christopher West and Jason and Crystalina Evert, and many presentations, exhibits and museums to explore.

I'm also glad to say that in the midst of all this activity, we were still able to spend some time with our Spaniard and Mauritian friends from Roquetas. We managed to squeeze in some much-desired down time with them, whether it was celebrating one of their birthdays in a park or watching the Madrid vs. Barcelona soccer game in one of their homes with their childhood friends. The bonds we formed during our service trip were only strengthened by our time in Madrid.

All of this leads up to the final WYD weekend: The pilgrimage, vigil and Mass with the pope. An entry on this will be coming soon! But for now, I should attempt to sleep since I have to wake up in about four hours :)

Peace and good night,
Sammie

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Monday, Aug. 22, 10:24 p.m.

Hi,

Just got back home about an hour ago, and let me tell you, the 20-minute shower I took after returning from pilgrimage (despite the ice-cold water) was absolutely amazing :)...I'll write more about the rest of the trip later - I'm currently trying to remind myself it's not actually 5:30 a.m. here :)

Peace!
Sammie

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Saturday, Aug. 20

Hi,

Just thought I'd check in with you! Sorry I've been out of contact - it's been crazy, what multiple speakers and events that are occurring here in Madrid... such as the Pope arriving.

Yes, I did just say the Pope arriving. He drove right past us in the PopeMobile!!!

Currently writing this from an American Mass, but I thought I'd just let you in on a very brief update on my mental status.

Difficulties of the past two days: Lost my train pass, ended up wandering Madrid alone, had a few asthma troubles due to exhaustion, have an infected knee (I fell once in the Retiro, a beautiful park, then as it was healing, I fell on a grate later that night, so the wound reopened and is now a bit swollen), didn't have enough time to pick up the rest of the souvenirs for my loved ones, and I woke up 20 minutes before leaving for pilgrimage to the vigil just now, so I smell. By the time I return to Madrid tomorrow evening, It'll have been three days since I've showered!

Been kinda exhausted mentally, emotionally and physically.

And yet, despite all these things this morning, I'm finding that I'm just being reminded to stay positive and to let go of trying to control all that happens in my life. It's been a long couple days, but in all honesty, the second I heard the praise and worship music emanating from mass, only joy has filled my spirit. I can't wait to reach vigil tonight and solely praise God, to unite with international youth in our love of Christ one final, radical time.

I'll update you post-Vigil about the experience. Until then, peace!

-Sammie

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Samantha ParedesTuesday, Aug. 16

I hope you're doing well! I just wanted to say "hi" from Madrid, Spain!!!

We arrived here last night after three days in Loyola and a week in our individual experience trips. I know you wanted some thoughts on my experience, so here's a quick low-down on what my group has done:

We spent the past week in Roquetas de Mar/Almeria area on the Southern coast of Spain. I stayed with 30 other Americans, Mauritians and Spaniards for the week. We slept on the floor of a gym, shared communal showers, washed clothes outside and hung them on a clothesline to dry, and all our meals were prepared by two nuns with only two burners for heat. As minimal as this experience may sound, I only found joy in this time. Though we didn't have a wide selection of provisions, we definitely weren't at want for anything. (I should also add that the food was both healthy and incredibly delicious). Within a week, our group has become incredibly close despite some of the language barriers and differences in culture, and we feel much more like a family than citizens of separate countries.

Our mission in serving Roquetas was to help the immigrants and play with the children. Unfortunately, the Red Cross had programs all week, so we weren't able to find any children, but the immigrant situation is difficult and complicated. Immigrants tend to be from Morocco and Sub-Saharan Africa, and they come here in the hopes of obtaining a better job and, therefore, a better life. Unfortunately, that's not the reality of the immigrant in Spain and many of them don't dare to tell their families about how they're really living because they don't want to crush their loved ones' hopes for a better future.

We were blessed to meet a few immigrants in our time here. One fled from Africa altogether after moving from country to country because of the war. Another one came to provide for his seven brothers and sisters. More than one was rescued by water by the Spanish. But when they arrive in Spain, immigrants end up doing the work that the Spaniards don't want (if they're lucky), such as cultivating plants in greenhouses. They need their papers to legally work. The problem is that you can't get papers without a work contract, and you can't get a work contract without papers. Problematic. So instead, many become day laborers and get hired for eight or nine hours a day, not guaranteed to be hired after their shift is done, and even then only the strongest typically get chosen to work.
The situation for women is no better. Many come here pregnant in the hopes that their child will be born on Spanish soil and therefore become Spanish citizens. Others may get trapped within the confines of prostitution or local mafias. Either way, the outlook is dim.

I personally didn't get to work with the immigrants because they needed Spanish classes, so the Spaniards were the ones teaching them and truly making a difference in their lives, but I feel blessed regardless to have had my eyes open to the situation at hand. It changes my perspective on the status quo and makes me think about how much of life is dependent on having the right opportunities. Plus, I tend to be one to be neutral on politics, but I'm beginning to realize that you just can't be indifferent to political matters - even if they don't directly change your situation, they matter to those who are marginalized, the ones who need change the most. And that's all the reason to start caring.

In place of the children, the rest of us worked with the other end of the life spectrum: The elderly. We visited a nursing home and got to interact with many of the residents. One day we took them to the beach to help them exercise, a couple other days we got to play games with them since they were having their Resident Olympics. I personally befriended a man named Faco - despite my struggling Spanish, we were able to communicate and I was able to discover who he is. It turns out we have lots in common, especially in our love of music. And even if I couldn't always understand his words or express what I wanted to say, I know I made a difference in his life simply by being present to him. I could see it in the joy that radiated in his smile and the affection he placed in a kiss on the cheek (Spaniards are very much affectionate). And to be that person kind of person to him meant the world to me - I found God in the close relationship that flourished over the next couple days.

This is the end of my Magis experience, which brings me back to Madrid. The opening Mass is tonight, and we're already meeting even more people outside of our groups from the Magis program. I'm excited to realize the ways in which God has brought me closer to people from other countries (I even found a friend from Spain who is almost like a mirror of my personality in several ways). I can't wait to continue to see what surprises he (God) has in store for us the next week, and I can only hope that it'll bring us all closer to each other and to him.

Sending peace to the United States :)

Sincerely,
Sammie

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Samantha ParedesFriday, Aug. 12

The last time I wrote, I just gave you a basic summary about what life is like here in Spain, but I feel that I should start from the beginning of the Spain experience, so here’s a little bit about our time in Loyola:
 
Our group from Marquette is currently attending MAG+S, a Jesuit program that runs about a week and a half before World Youth Day. We arrived in Loyola, Spain, on Aug. 5, where we stayed and interacted with about 3,000 other pilgrims from around the world for a few days before breaking up into groups and being sent around Spain and its surrounding areas. For those who don’t know, Loyola is a particularly big deal for the Jesuits because St. Ignatius, the Jesuits’ founder, was born there. The festivities took place on St. Ignatius’ grounds and I actually slept on the landing of the stairs in the building added onto St. Ignatius’ house!
 
Our time in Loyola was taken up by many activities: Adoration and confession in the Basilic, tours of the Holy House (I actually got to walk though the room where St. Ignatius was born and pray in the room where he was converted!!!), games and workshops with the other pilgrims, dancing and a cultural show put on by many of the countries, just to name a few. It was beautiful to meet so many other youth from all over the world, each one welcoming and inspiring in his or her own way. We all have different hair and skin colors, come from various cultures, and speak a wide range of languages, but through our love of Christ, we are all one.

This is only a basic summary of Loyola, but before I log off for now, I’d like to share one moment with you in which I believe I saw God’s face: The last day in Loyola there was a Mass outside in front of the Basilic (and yes, it’s Basilic here, not Basilica). Marquette was standing at the back of the congregation, right behind the last row of chairs. As a reading was about to start, an elderly gentleman turned around, saw us standing, and got up, offering his seat. He said, ¨Siéntate¨ to my friend Alyson and me. Alyson declined the chair, but told me to take it. I declined, but after the man kept insisting, I took the seat quickly and quietly avoid disrupting the beginning of the reading. After I took the seat, though, I realized that I’d been so focused on being quiet that I’d forgotten to thank the man. I felt terrible.
 
I looked around, trying to figure out where he had moved. I found him behind the Marquette group and we made eye contact. As I was about to say something, he smiled, winked at me, and shook his finger in a sort of ¨no no no¨ gesture, almost like a mother to her child. He made it clear that we weren’t switching back. All I could do was lamely mouth a ¨Thank you,¨ but in that moment, I knew I had seen the face of God from a distance. I absolutely HAD to find him and say thank you in person.
 
After receiving Communion, I wandered around looking for this man. I eventually found him in the back seats within another section of the congregation. As Mass ended, he turned to leave, saw me and we made a beeline towards each other. He shook my hand and kissed both my cheeks. In Spanish, I said, "Thank you, sir, for the chair." He responded that it was no problem and once again turned to leave.

I knew I had to say something before he left, so in my stumbling Spanish, I said, "Puedo ver la cara de Dios en Usted," which means, "I can see the face of God in you." He smiled, looked around and said (in Spanish), "I can see it too." He looked around at the 3,000 young pilgrims in the square, waving their flags and singing together and said, "I can see it in all of you." His words went straight to my heart. Then, in a kind and gentle gesture, he turned back to me, touched my face and said, "and I can see Him in you, too." With a final smile and an affectionate clap on the shoulder, he left.

I stood there for a moment, unable to stop the tears that started to slip out of pure joy. Never would I have thought that I would be in Spain, a completely foreign country, and be so blessed as to have that kind of deep and touching moment with a total stranger. I honestly believe that God gave me that moment to both to tell me how much he loves me and to give me the opportunity to share his love with someone else. I felt so blessed.
 
And we hadn’t even left Loyola yet.
 
Peace to you,
Sammie

After her initial email, Samantha sent this second blog entry, dated Aug. 12:
I realize that there is no possible way I’d be able to cover everything on this trip so far, so I figured it might be kinda fun to send you a list I composed of moments so far I never want to forget. This might help to catch people up on the past six days or so: Moments I never want to forget:
•    the stranger who gave me his seat and told me he saw God in me
•    praying in the room in which St. Ignatius was converted
•    realizing that I don’t have perfect English to the rest of the world - I have an American accent.
•    being in Southern Spain with 30 other Americans, Mauritians and Spaniards, dancing with each other before lunch, singing songs in French, hand washing clothes, using communal showers, sleeping on the gym floor, having no air conditioning and eating meals prepared by two nuns with only two burners... and finding nothing but absolute joy in these conditions.
•    the sight of the world’s nations’ flags waving all across the plaza in front of the Basilic after Mass
•    being pretty much adopted by people from Singapore

•    having "Happy Birthday" sung to you both English and Chinese, with an extra "May the good Lord bless you" verse

•    watching a group member open up as she shares all that is weighing on her heart

•    a 15-hour bus ride with strangers, with a midnight dinner outside under the stars to end the night

•    hearing 30 priests consecrate the Eucharist in various accents, but realizing that they still speak in one voice

•    meeting with people who immigrated to Spain from Africa... those who were rescued from the sea by the Spanish and came here because they were fleeing the war in their country or because they have seven siblings to support

•    having immigrants tell you that you look like "the sister of Jackie Chan" - that was a good laugh :)

•    deciding that taking Spanish was the best decision of your life because it gives you the means to communicate with so many more people

•    spending 15 hours making very small talk with the stranger sitting next to you on a bus without making any real connection... then finding out later, after you share your stories in a group discussion, that perhaps that stranger’s life experiences make you much more alike than different. And perhaps that stranger naturally understands you better than most people.
 
So these are just a few. I’ll give you more the next time I can log on. Peace!

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Samantha ParedesWednesday, Aug. 10

I managed to snag a computer here in Vicar (I’m currently in Roquetas de Mar working with immigrants) so I’ll try to write a little bit right now. I can’t say how often I’ll be able to access computers, but I’ll do my best :) It’s hard to believe, but I’ve only been gone for six days. SIX DAYS. And yet life seems so turned around.
 
Last Thursday, about 20 of us from Marquette flew out of O’Hare airport and landed in Bilbao, Spain. We had a layover in Germany and, while we didn’s actually get to explore anything outside of the airport, it was really interesting to just simply observe Germans going about their business. For one thing, the airport was significantly quieter and calmer than any airport in the United States. They didn’t have any background music playing, either. But the first important realization I made on this trip took place in Germany, before we even boarded the plan that would land in Spain: To the rest of the world, I am the one with the accent, not the Germans or Spaniards. And this realization was important because it taught me from the get-go that my perspective is not central; the rest of the world does not see things the way I do and the rest of the world does not revolve around me, nor does it revolve around American culture. Food for thought on a layover? Definitely.
 
To sum up the past five days so far in a nutshell (since I only have ten minutes left on this computer), it’s been an immersion experience unlike any other. On one hand, we’re placed amidst the Spanish culture. Spanish is the primary language, we follow the Spanish schedule for food (and let me tell you, dinner past 9 o’clock in the evening can be a struggle if you’re hungry!), and we run on military time and the metric system. On the other hand, I’ve learned so much about other parts of the world. While in Loyola, I made some great friends from Singapore and Austria. Now that I’m in Vicar, I’m living with not only eight other Americans, but more than 15 other Spaniards and Mauritians as well, and it’s been a blast. We have communal showers, hand wash our clothes, and sleep on the floor of the gym, but within our small community there’s only joy, and it’s a joy unlike any other I’ve ever experienced. This morning the Mauritians taught us dances and songs in French. Before lunch, the Spaniards played some music and we danced. Simple living with strangers does not mean that anything is missing; if anything, it gives us that much more because we can truly appreciate each other for our hearts, for the people that God created us to be. And for that, I am truly grateful. I’ll update you more later on our time in Loyola and the situation the immigrants here are facing, but for now, just know that all is well in Spain.
 
With sincere peace and love,
Sammie

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Milwaukee 2 Madrid, the Archdiocese of Milwaukee’s planned pilgrimage to World Youth Day 2011 in Madrid, Spain, Aug. 10-22. Young adults on the pilgrimage, themed “Rooted and Built Up in Jesus Christ, Firm in the Faith,” will drink water from the miraculous spring in Lourdes, visit the birthplace of St. Ignatius in Loyola, pray, attend daily Mass, have fun with other young adults and see Pope Benedict the XVI.

Thanks to two Marquette University students who are currently in Madrid, Spain, for the World Youth Day events, the Catholic Herald will be posting blogs that they write on their experiences so readers can vicariously participate. Check back, as I'll post their blogs as I receive them!

I'd like to introduce our first blogger, Samantha Paredes, 20, a junior at Marquette University, Milwaukee, studying nursing, major, and music, minor. Paredes, whose hometown is Waukegan, Ill., has submitted several blogs that share her experiences leading up to the Tuesday, Aug. 16 WYD opening Mass.

Daryn Peres, 20, is our second blogger. Peres, whose hometown is Dallas, Texas, is studying Information Technologies and Supply Chain Management at Marquette University, Milwaukee. His blog will be coming soon!

Enjoy!

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