One rainy Saturday afternoon we decided to hike the mountains, as Noah had been begging us to do from the day we arrived. There are tiny white villages nestled into the mountains here that are well-known for hiking, as they are short distances from each other and “easy” to hike. Slipping on some shoes and a raincoat, we drove to the bottom-most town, Pampaneira, ready to begin our adventure.

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20 minutes later, as we walked from our parking spot to the top of the itsy-bitsy town, we were ready to turn around. These mountain dwellings were built vertically, and we are from horizontal South Dakota! Surely the path would be easier than the slick streets, though. So, we kept going, enjoying the mountain views and eating the freshly picked mandarin oranges. After pushing through to the next town, Bubión, we decided that it would rain soon and waved at the topmost town before scaling down. We learned that down is sometimes more dangerous than up, but we reached the bottom and enjoyed drinks and tapas at a little restaurant.

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On our ride home, we found a message from our host letting us know about a festival a few towns over in Torvizcón and decided to take a peek. The 700 person town swells each year for this party. We missed the large parade that marked the beginning, but we got in on the GIANT paella and fun music. For 2 euro we bought heaping plates of the yellow rice with chicken and shrimp, then crowding into a tent, we watched a lively band and heard the children outside on the fair-type rides. We were tired and went home for the rest of the day, but the party continued in Torvizcón. Apparently, there were two pigs that the entire village raised throughout the year. They had red ribbons tied around their neck and the villagers were expected to feed the pigs whenever they begged for food. After a group effort of fattening and caring for them, the entire village feasted on the pigs during this festival, lighting 27 bonfires around the town and gathering around them to eat roasted pork and celebrate before choosing two new piglets to wear the crimson necklaces.

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Another cultural experience for the Lexens. So, now we will know what to do when we climb a mountain village and see a pig with a red ribbon around it’s neck…

Butter is usually our choice of bread-spread, or coconut oil when it seems healthier. Olive oil was reserved for fancy restaurants or to use for salad dressings. Now that we are a little more “Spanish”, olive oil is probably in even quantity with blood coursing through our veins. We pour it on salads, drizzle it on breads, sauté our veggies in it, and only rarely wish for butter.

After spending a month climbing among the ancient olive trees on the property, our host, Luna, invited us to help gather the olives in the traditional way. When we had gone to the river with her a while ago (read the story Horses), we had picked up some 15 foot canes that grew along the river to bring back with us. The long “poles” were used to help beat down the olives from the tree, as a net was spread underneath to catch them. Noah and Natalie did their best to thrash at the tiny black dots, then Luna and I came behind to try our best. It was a lot harder than it looks to get them to release, and we ended up doing better by collecting the olives from the ground. Luna had already gotten about 7 kilos, and we helped double her load. (She is also an amazing photographer and captured the process with beautiful photos!)

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Later, Luna sent me pictures of the pressing process. She brought the olives to a neighbor who had a small press. After adding in an extra 5 kilos for her, he pressed out a good 5 liters of pure organic extra virgin cold pressed olive oil.

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Luna brought over a bottle of the greenish-gold oil for us as a gift, which was very kind of her. We poured some on bread and marveled at the smooth, golden taste.

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A dear friend recently wrote to us after seeing our olive grove. It is poignant and significant for us:

“I read once about the Garden of Gethsemane being a place of olive trees and how that was significant because of the surrender/crushing that went on there for Jesus.. The devotion spoke on these lessons from the Olive: * For fruitfulness, olives need both East and West winds (signified both blessing and trial) * They need processing… Only proper time and process make them useful. Can’t hurry or override. * For preservation they need crushing… When Olive has been crushed it is in a state that will last longer than original.

All our surrender, crushing, trial, blessing, waiting, processing… To be labeled in one moment, among the olives, as His eternal victory… The place where all of this will be worth all of that. Hope you get a chance to sit underneath that tree of Biblical significance and take in what He’s speaking to you in your journey.”

Sometimes opportunities appear when you are least expecting them, which can make the surprise even more delightful and inspiring. We found such an opportunity recently on a walk down to the river with the host of our Airbnb.

Luna had offered to show us the path down to the river, so while Paul was faithfully working at the house, the kids and I traipsed along beside her down a sunlit path to the shallow river running down from the mountains. Noah and Natalie splashed a bit in the water, and we walked through my favorite eucalyptus grove. Eucalyptus trees are strong, smooth and tall, the leaves smell incredible, and they look like God hand-painted the bark of each one. They are truly beautiful, and I loved seeing the light peeking through the branches.

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As we meandered along the sandy shore of the river, Luna spotted a couple of horses on a hill on the other side, in the tiny white village of Los Tablones. Being a horse lover, she was very excited and convinced us to cross over and look at them. After wading across the freezing water, we climbed the hill to find two boys, Noah’s age, playing with the horses. When we asked if we could pet them, the boys gave us a nonchalant agreement and, having an audience, they then showed off their skills by jumping on the horses’ backs and doing a couple of tricks. These were gypsy horses, and their young gypsy owners knew them well.

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Luna eventually requested a ride, met with another shrug and “sure”, then the two boys took turns giving Noah and Natalie rides as well. The pictures describe the experience better than words; the whole afternoon had a feeling of magical delight, my heart not really knowing how to capture the vision before me, the delicious breeze and golden light mixed with the sounds of laughter, being aware that this moment is so unique and yet real.

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A recurring theme that Paul and I have felt for this adventure we are on is to “pay attention”. We believe that God has something to tell us, and we need to give notice not only to what is obvious, but also to the details around us. This beautiful opportunity that we had with the gypsy horses was a small example of noticing, then taking a step forward to cross the river to the other side for a wonderful experience. I need to take time to look up, explore, take risks, and most of all “pay attention”.