Milagros

Milagros and I were meant for each other. It seems weird to say after just to days but I couldn’t have picked a better host mom myself. First off, she is exciting, talks too much, and I can’t stop hanging on her every word to learn more. Milagros is from Spain, but she has traveled everywhere from Madrid to New York City. She is the proudest Spaniard I have ever met, always referring to fútbol and Spanish cinema. Milagros is from the era of Franco, where she lived a censored life until his death in 1975. She never saw all of Casablanca because about half of it was censored. I couldn’t imagine watching Transformers or Titanic and not being able to see it in its entirety because of a pompous dictator who “wanted the best for his country”. So when I told her I attended mass at the same place where Franco was buried, she almost kicked me out of her house. Obviously it wasn’t my fault for visiting Valle de los Caídos, which was led by ISA, but it would be like a visit to Hitler’s grave for a German, which would never happen. The mass made me want to practice Catholicism again, especially when all of the lights turned off and light from a hole in the ceiling shone down on the alter. The crucifixion was lit up along with the deep green of the deacon’s robes and for the first time in my life, I felt truly connected to God. When I tried to relay this to Milagros, all she could focus on was the location of the mass and nothing else, although she is quite the opposite of a typical Spanish Catholic. This didn’t bother me because I realized that growing up under one of the most notorious dictators would not be easy.

Her daughter is in Santa Fe, teaching Spanish at St. Michaels. What a small world we live in. I can’t wait until she comes to visit in the spring! My homestay is everything I could have ever wanted. More updates soon.