Is this real life?

As the days seem to pass by like an hour elapsing in the day, I can't seem to understand how I got to Spain. I began my journey a little over three weeks ago. It feels like a week ago I was on the Californian soil soaking in the rays of the sun. Dreaming of Spain and the adventures I will soon be having. I was thinking of all the stressful situations and all the exciting times mixed into one. When the trip first started I didn't pay enough attention to God at all. I was consumed by Spain and by the fact that I was so tired. I slept instead of praying or reading the Bible or even talking about Him. I was defeated by my flesh. I felt the repercussions of this once we got into Oviedo. Though the moment I felt like my spirit and heart were not searching anymore was when I was in the park. I stood still when I was suppose to be running. I felt his glory rain on me. Tonight I am suppose to be studying though I think I have exceeded my limit of concentration. What distracts me now is this song

This is what I felt when I looked across the park and experienced God awakening my soul. In Oviedo there is need for prayer. When you pray for me on my study abroad also include Oviedo. Recently, I have been learning a lot about the history of Spain. To be honest I think I know more about Spain now then my own country's history. I can tell you all the main characters who influenced Spain to what it is now. I wonder a lot what I will be like when I come home. There are moments in the day that I wish I was home. I quickly toss those thoughts to the side because I'm doing something that most people will never experience in their lives. I am emerging myself into a culture and trying to learn "them". I'm trying to learn something completely different. Its something that I hope will change me forever.
The before I eat any meal my host mom makes she asks me if I like it. She typically asks right before I even have food on my plate. I'm not sure what to say but I tell her I like it anyways. I am so thankful that God made me a person that is not a picky eater. I eat everything she makes me and I like every thing she makes me. EXCEPT for one time. It turned out to be pretty funny. I came into the kitchen because I wasn't sure if she told me to come to eat or if she would have dinner ready soon. I came in and sat down in the kitchen. In a glass pan she had two fish cut into halves. They were pretty big. She asked me in spanish if I like sardins and then showed the pan. I was about to hurl. I tried my best in my broken spanish that I have never had sardins that big before. Im not sure if I like them or not. She say the expression on my face and quickly got something out of the freezer, fish sticks. Haha I didn't mind them at all. Fish sticks and potatoes. I laughed to myself as ate Spanish fish sticks and watched the HUGE sardins cook in the oven. At times I can't believe I am here because someone is making my bed, cooking for me, doing my laundry, making sure I eat, and cleaning the house. Something I haven't experienced since my mom was healthy. I feel uncomfortable cause I am not sure if I deserve it. I have been so used to doing the laundry, cooking, and cleaning. I'm being taken care of like I was when my mom was alive and healthy. Strange that a place far from home, far from school home, and far from anything familiar can be so familiar. Is this real life? I hope you have that weird little kid from the youtube video in your head. As he says "Is this real life?" in his drugged up manner. Because I feel like laughing when I look at what is unfolding. Not laughing out of disbelief but out of pure joy and excitement.