Dear Espana

Dear Espana,

Is it ok if I call you Espana? I'm not sure since I don't speak your language well/at all/occasionally/poquito; I only pretend to know which verbs are being conjugated as I listen to my daughters converse as their Spanish homework is talked about and completed. Would you rather have me call you Spain? Whatever the case, I want to let you know that today, April 28, 2010, there is a group of fresh-faced BYU students arriving in your country to grace your borders for about 2 eternally long months. Oh, I'm sure the time will fly for the co-eds, but for me, as a mother, one who feels like she just gave birth to that college student yesterday, it will go on forever; of this I am sure.

You see, Espana, my daughter got a bee in her bonnet to spend a semester away from her family, on a different continent, speaking a language that is becoming more and more natural to her as the time goes by, for a whopping two months. What is so great about you? Is it the culture that she will get to experience? Is it the people she will get to meet? Is it the meat (gasp) she will probably/definitely/most likely have to eat if she doesn't want to offend her host family? Is it the wonderment of a new, exciting corner of the earth waiting to be explored? Just what is it that you can offer her? I admit I am being selfish, immature, selfish, immature, and selfish about this.

I admit it.

But, you see, she was just born 19 short years ago. I'm still in the elementary/jr. high/high school frame of mind where there are parent meetings, parent letters, packing lists, parent signatures required, medical releases to be signed, etc. There was NONE of that for this trip, Spain. And she isn't going across town on a field trip.

She's flying across the Atlantic Ocean and there was not one parent letter, list or signature required of me. sigh.

What is wrong with this picture, my Latin American country?

Please take care of her. Please ensure that your many inhabitants will treat her well. Please keep her money, passport, laptop, cell phone, and other necessities safe. Because, Spain, I love her and want her to spread her wings. I want to see her thrive in a country where she can speak with the locals and learn from them each day. I want her to feel comfortable in a place where traditions and customs are muy importante (see, there's that Spanish I know!). I just wish it was a little closer to home.

I'll quit my complaining now, Espana. I know she would be totally disgusted/embarrassed/and shaking her head if she read this right now. "Don't worry. Get some sleep. I'll be fine." That's what she said just yesterday. Yeah, easy for her to say. She's not the mother of a daughter who was just barely born.

Spain, I'll definitely be checking up on you.

Just sayin'.

Su amiga,

Kris (the parent of the cute blonde who didn't sign one permission slip for her daughter to go to Spain...)

These two are THE BEST SPANISH speakers to come out of Timberline High School I miss both of them very much right now.