Chapter Three: Strength

The Midwest: my home; my family. There is something to say about this area in the United States. Growing up in this region, I never felt like I could never do something because of my gender. Never was I told, "Hannah, don't do that. That's not for girls." Rather, I grew up with farm sets dreaming of becoming a cowgirl and having my own ranch. I wore my cowgirl boots everyday no matter what outfit I had on. My dreams were set and coming from a stubborn Scottish family, there was little that could change my mind about anything.

I obviously did not become a cowgirl. Society did have an effect on me after all. It taught me that sometimes you need to be reasonable and sensible about life. So instead of building a home on the range, I decided to broaden my horizons even more by studying another language and seeing the world. Both times that I have now been to Spain, I am ever more impressed with the land and more especially with the people. The first time, I could not get over the pride the people have for their homeland. Today, as I mingle through everything that has happened these past four weeks in this country, it is now the strength that these women have in northern Spain that impresses me.

The North. If you have only visited Madrid or the southern region of Andalusia where the "well-famous" beaches lie, well, forgive my frankness, but you have not experienced nor lived this culture. In fact, you would not have even tasted it. If you want to understand the strength the people have here, especially the women, you need to go to the north. It is here where the rains come and stay for much of the year. It is here where the mountainous terrain lies. It is here where character is built and strength resides.

Coming from an encouraging family and region, I thought myself a confident young woman when arriving to this region. After all, how many girls grow up wearing cowgirl boots every single day and dream of cleaning up horse manure for a career? Thinking that my region made me strong, I indeed do sometimes find myself shy in front of these women here. Their directness with topics. Their eagerness for life. Their openness for friendships. Their strength for each day. It awes and inspires me constantly. Even more so when you set out for a three-hour hike in the mountains with these women and wind up staying out for seven hours instead.

My God, what a day. I tell you again. What a day. After reaching the summit and beginning our descent, the women I went hiking with decided to take another route down. That's all fine and well except when taking that path, I did not realize at the time that we would be spiraling back down. Spiraling down the mountainside is very deceiving. Very. Deceiving. After the first hour, I could not understand why we were not making any ground. I kept thinking, "But my God, when are we going to get back?"

You may be thinking, no biggie, seven hours walking, that's not too bad. Well, maybe you forgot where I am from. THE MIDWEST. We do not have mountains in the Midwest. We have "hills" in case you forgot. I typically don't walk up, down, up, down each day back home in Wisconsin. So by the end when my socks and sneakers were soaked with sweat, my legs full of lactic acid, and my head screaming for a pillow, I admit that I lied a little when the lady next to me asked if I was tired. "Oh, just a little. I'm sure I'll sleep well tonight nonetheless," I told her innocently. While in the meantime every muscle and bone in my body ached and pleaded to be laid down on my bed.

Was it foolish to lie like that? Probably. In fact, most definitely. But it is this strength of theirs that inspires me so. Not just their physical strength but their mental and spiritual strength as well. So even though I am thousands of miles away from my Midwestern home, family, and strength that I once grew up with, I am now that much closer to a strength that perhaps I have always searched for and have now found within these people.