UpTold

Brian with a group of friends
The teenager who was riding a horse in the fields bathed in moonlight in Georgia, United Stated, could never have imagined that many years later he would be responsible for creating a large language exchange group in Malaga, Spain. Back then, Brian Justice was a boy who used to get in trouble at school in the mornings, and helped out his mother in the farm in the afternoons. During the sun-beaten days of summer, they waited for nightfall to ride their horses and to observe the stars on those fields with no light pollution. This place, along with Jacksonville, Florida, is where he spent his childhood and his teenage years.

He wasn't too bothered about his status as a "problematic student". What meant expulsion from school for other students, was usually settled with a couple of spanks for Brian. “First my teachers spanked me, and then my mother spanked me too,” he recalls. His good marks always saved him from a certain expulsion. “It was a dilemma for the teachers, how to expel a kid who gets in trouble every day but who has excellent marks?” University was another matter. Building was something he felt passionate about, so he decided to study architecture. After finishing the studies, he decided to pack his bags.

In 2005 he landed in Spain. Until then, his only experience in a foreign county had been a week in Mexico. Without knowing a word of Spanish, his life was about to change completely in Spain, and in ways that he had never suspected. Some things that he had always considered normal, started to change. For example, country names. He had thought that the Germans called their country Germany, the French referred to Germany as Germany and Russians used the name Germany when they were talking about Germany. “I hadn't realized that there were Germany, Alemania, Deutschland...” he recalls laughing. “Such things make you think, how is it possible that I didn't think of something so obvious before?”

In one of the last language exchange events
At the beginning, his new life in Spain was similar to the life he had finished in the US. He came to study Spanish for a year. During that time, he lived in many cities before coming to Malaga. First there was Salamanca, where he spent 3 months, which was enough time to be able to start communicating in Spanish. After that, Granada. He was impressed by that city, because back then Granada was full of bars that offered a beer and tapa for 1 euro. And the lifestyle was in stark contrast to the lifestyle in the United States. “In Granada you could go out with 10 euros, have a good time, have dinner and get drunk”. After this Andalusian city came Valencia and Madrid, neither of which convinced him to stay, so next he moved to Tenerife. The life there seemed very relaxed to him. Even too good. “I was there for 3 months, and they offered me a job working 30 hours per week in a bar, but I felt as if I was retiring.” That's when he decided to go to Malaga.

A year after his arrival, he started the language exchange events. At first, it was nothing more than project to integrate the students of the school where he was working. La Casa Invisible, a social cultural center, was the first venue. There have been many changes since the first step: they joined another group, and instead of five to ten people a day, soon there were 30 or 40 people coming to the event; after a little while they found their own place. “A run-down garage that we turned into our little space”. Later they moved to another space next door, which was a bit bigger and where they spent about one year. This is where the language exchange group had its best days. They organized auctions, art exhibitions, potluck parties...The group became so big that they even organized barbecues and volleyball tournaments at the beach. But more events also meant more work. Since he needed help, Brian made a deal with people who were willing to lend him a hand: food and lodging in exchange for a few hours of help in the group. The place was on the ground floor and his house on the first floor of the same building, so it was a reasonable deal. “In total, I've had about 15 people helping me out—he recalls—. “A guy from Korea, who is still helping me to this day. Also people from Spain, Brazil, Estonia, Hungary, Poland, Ukraine, Ecuador...” Some of these people are still in Malaga. They were just passing by or planning to stay for a short period but ended up finding their destiny here: a job, an interesting activity, a partner...
In a barbecue last year
And that's how this multicultural experiment actually works. Not only has it helped all kinds of artists and musicians share promote their art, but it has also worked as a social filter. For the people who come from other countries, it's easier to integrate. For those who live here, it's easier to communicate with foreigners. This has been a starting point for many groups of friends, brought together by common interests; some people have managed to find a job; others found a flat more easily thanks to the group. “If you get together a group of people from different nationalities and put some alcohol on top, these things happen. I don't have to do anything.

Now, Brian's language exchange has returned to the place where it started: la Casa Invisible. He keeps on looking for more alternatives to keep this group going. He might have many plans, but only some of them are immediate. Brian is not too worried about it, he's always moving step by step. Right now he is working on his terrace, to fix it up for weekly meetings of his group. He is also trying to reach an agreement with the city council to get the right to use one of the many abandoned plots that belong to the city. Meanwhile, the language exchange continues, moving according to the circumstances. And even though he might think that he hasn't done anything, the truth is that he's done a lot. A lot of human stories have been created thanks to his project; a lot of bonds of friendship have formed, crossing the borders of many countries; many ways of thinking have changed; a lot of humanity has been created.


Brian from Florida, United States.





In the earliest memory that I have of my life, I'm a 5-year-old boy building a snowman. It's incredible to think that so much time has passed and that I still have this moment so vividly in my mind. I had just collected a heap of snow, which I was forming into a big ball with my tiny hands. It was a freezing cold afternoon, and my fingers were very cold, but I was happy.

But that day, I had started to feel happy long before this moment. My parents had picked me up from the kindergarten a bit earlier than usual. That could only mean one thing: something special was waiting for us. So that's why I had a smile on my face the whole way. We went to the place we used to go to every winter: an enormous house, a kind of a resort, on top of a mountain. Around it, only forest, expect for one clearing covered with snow, where we used to sledge down. The house was so high on the hill that it was difficult to get back up. Inside the house, I was impressed by its huge fireplace and the animal heads on the walls. It took us about two hours to get there from Budapest. This place is called Törökmező. That's the place of my earliest memory; the place where, with my cold hands, I am building my first snowman.

It's a magical place for me, with a lot of memories from my childhood. Once, when I was already seven years old, I asked a girl what grade she was in. These are the typical questions of a kid who doesn't know much about age. She answered that she was in the first grade. But of course, she was referring to the first grade of secondary school and I, with my childish innocence, thought that she was talking about primary school. It left me wondering: "She's a bit too old for primary school. How can anyone fail the same grade so many times?" These are the kind of things that make this place special to me. Some day I'd like to go back there. I know that on the one hand it would destroy the illusions I have of those days, but it would be nice to go and relive a lot of memories. And who knows, maybe to build another snowman.


Levente from Budapest, Hungary.

I've had many happy moments, all worth remembering. But for me, happiness has many directions. I don't have a special day, I try to make all days happy. And if there's a setback? Just look at life with a positive attitude. If you take a look around, you will always find someone who gives you a reason to smile. At least that's what I try to do. You have to get the positive things from people. And when someone looks at me and tells me: "You are a happy person, without needing anything else", that's something very beautiful.
There are many people full of emptiness, who think they can find happiness in a shopping center, or eating until they burst, or doing a sport just to show off. This is occasional happiness, which has an expiration date. That's why I try to make all my days happy. It doesn't matter if I need to make a fool of myself. Seeing a smile on someone else's face is the best gift for me.


Santiago from Asunción, Paraguay. (Upon his request also from Uruguay, Spain, Italy and the whole world).

He was born in a small village, painted between the mountains and the jungle of Peru; he worked since he was a kid in the fields, he sewed rice sacks, he worked as a cleaner while he was studying at nights, and later he became an assistant accountant. This is the amazing story of Omar Olivera.

When Omar Olivera recalls his childhood, the first thing that comes to his mind are his grandparents. Back then, he was just another kid, playing barefoot, rolling an old tyre with a stick on the dusty streets. That village, attacked by suffocating heat all year round, and full of people who are as happy as they are poor, is called Bellavista, and it's trapped between the jungle and the mountain range. When the first roosters are announcing the arrival of a new day, the women are busy in the kitchen, silently cooking on the fire. The men are preparing the donkeys to carry them to the fields. Omar Olivera's grandparents started their daily routine early in the mornings and came back home with the last rays of the sun.
He accompanied them every weekend and on school holidays. Whenever he wasn't at school, he was with them. Sitting on a donkey and holding on tight to his grandfather's back, Sr. Goyo Guevara, Omar Olivera said goodbye to Bellavista between dusty roads and green horizons.

Many years later, settled down in his adult life, he still thinks that if it hadn't been for his grandparents, his life would have been very different. In the countryside, they taught him to cultivate and plant rice, to harvest cocoa, and everything they knew about a peasant's life. But the lessons they taught him went beyond that. "They also taught me to be responsible and to be concerned about the things that I start," recalls Omar. And perhaps they taught him even more. On one occasion, when Omar was about 15, he went to look for a job as a rice planter with his childhood friend. The two of them set off to the rice fields at five in the morning. They found someone who was willing to offer them one day of labor.

Have you got any experience? —he asked them.
Yes, we both do —lied Omar.

He did have experience, but his companion, three years younger than him, had no experience at all. So when they went to the puddle to work, Omar instructed his novice friend what to do, step by step. "You grab a fistful of rice sprouts with your left hand, then take a part of them in your right hand, and then you plant them. Make sure that the root is stuck in the mud." At the end of the day, it seemed that everything had gone well. The next morning the overseer ordered them to go back to their workplace. "Look what you've done", he told them, pointing at the puddle where they had been working. It was a disaster. The rice sprouts that his friend had planted were floating on the surface, and the work had to be redone. Omar simply smiled and told his friend to pay more attention and let him do most of the work. On the day they got paid, Omar divided the money in two parts without any hesitation. Despite having done most of the work by himself, he didn't think twice before sharing the money equally with his friend.

Many years later, settled down in his adult life, he still thinks that if it hadn't been for his grandparents, his life would have been very different. And for him, his grandparents were also his parents. "I didn't spend much time living with my mother," he says. And his father left when he was barely one year old. At the age of 16, pushed by his curiosity, Omar saved up every last cent to travel to Tarapoto, where his father lived. He had to come back hurriedly on the third day. "My father got drunk and came to my aunt's house, where I was staying, and wanted to hit me." The boy who had wanted to meet the man who had conceived him, had to retrace his steps sooner than planned. Far from feeling sadness or pity, he felt that his father was just another stranger who he had crossed paths with. "I didn't feel anything. No sadness nor joy. Nothing."

When Omar Olivera finished his studies in the secondary school, and turned 18, he started a different life. Despite the obstacles he had encountered so far, he always found the strength to move on. After some tiresome jobs, he arrived in Lambayeque, where he started to sew rice sacks in a rice mill. He worked many hours in a row for a meager salary. The friends he made there helped him to get promoted to a cleaner's position. He was used to working endless hours, and now that he had an 8-hour working day, he felt that he had too much time on his hands. That is when he started to study business administration. During these three years, he spent his days cleaning the mill and his nights studying. It wasn't easy but he managed to finish his studies successfully. All by himself. He continued to move up the ladder, and now he was a storekeeper. He held this position for one year, until he started to help his friend who was the accountant. The owners of the mill realized they needed someone else in the accounting department, and since Omar had already spent quite some time learning about the accounting systems, they chose him. So he was promoted again, this time to the position of assistant accountant. The recent times have been a bit turbulent at work. Omar saw that the problems couldn't be resolved and he didn't want to continue. "I left before things took a turn for the worse." Now he is getting a degree in accounting in the university of Toribio de Mogrovejo in Chiclayo. On his own. It has always been like that. He has always kept on going in any kind of turmoil.

Many years later, settled down in his adult life, he still thinks that if it hadn't been for his grandparents, his life would have been very different. And he is sure that if they had been alive till now, he would have gone even further in life in even less time. Either way, this boy who was going to the countryside, riding a donkey and holding on tight to his grandfather's back, this teenager who behaved fairly with money despite the difficulties, this young man who wanted to meet his father, is now a man, facing the future on his own, with the memories of his grandparents and their life lessons well learnt.

Omar, from Jaén, Perú



In Emas's world the most special place on Earth is where my friends live. In Emas's world the most valuable lesson we can learn on this planet is humanism. In Emas's world we never make plans, we simply go with the flow of the day. In Emas's world, it doesn't matter at all what other people think of you, just give your best to be proud of yourself. In Emas's world, the happiest moment is when good friends surround you.

More than two years has passed since I started traveling around the world. During this time I have done almost everything. For example, I swam with whale sharks in Cebu, went skydiving in New Zealand, and dared to eat a cuy in Peru. This journey has taught me a lot. The greatest lesson? The hearts filled with humanity that you meet. I still remember how it all started. It was long before packing my bags and heading to the airport for the first time. In Seoul, my hometown, I have a friend who is more like family to me. I've shared all my moments with him. We have laughed and cried together since we were kids. We both like unique things, so we made unique plans. One of them was to travel around the world. In South Korea, there is mandatory military service. I signed up right after finishing high school. But that's when our roads parted. He decided to sign up two years later when I had already finished the service. And that's when I started the preparations for the trip around the world. When the moment to set off finally arrived, I waited for his call, but there was no sign of him. I felt really bad, and I didn't know what to do. When I was already checking in, I saw a man in a uniform approaching me. It was him. I couldn't avoid it, I started to cry. It turned out that my friend had hurt his leg during the military training, and that he hadn't told me because he didn't want to make me worried nor interrupt my preparations for the trip.

Now, on 20 May 2014, I'm in India, my last stop. Today I'm going to take a bus to Mumbai. The heat is almost unbearable, and I'm going to spend 16 hours travelling in a bus with no air conditioning. But I'm excited because I'll be the only foreigner in the bus, and I came to India to see how people live here. This is how I have set out the whole trip. To go to a place and become one with the local people. And to be happy. I'm sure that 70% of illnesses are caused by your mental state. If you are happy, you are healthy. I never take any medicine, and I'm always in good health. If I had to give advice to someone, I'd say: "Always be happy. Life is short. Never ever make yourself ill."

I've travelled the five continents, visited unexpected places, and most importantly, I've made many friends who will stay with me forever, in my mind and in my heart. Many things that I never even imagined happened. I remember when I met this crazy French guy in Las Vegas, already a year ago, and he introduced me to his friends. We traveled in the United States together for about 10 days. When we said goodbye, I knew that we would meet again. But I never suspected that our roads would cross one year later in Paris. There, in his company, I felt like home. It's one of the best things that has happened to me during this trip. I can't even describe how happy I felt. Well, maybe I can: when I'm happy, I drink; when I'm sad, I never drink. I was in Paris for 9 days. I didn't pass even one day without drinking.

This trip has changed my life. Life is a choice. And we are here to create our own life, not just to live it. I've met many people who sold all their things: their houses, their cars, just to be able to travel. Even people who quit their job to travel. Also those who had no money, and worked hard for a while, saved up, and moved on little by little to make their dream come true. That's what life is, a choice. Mine was to travel around the world for two years. And to try to understand what kind of a person I really am. I would live this experience again and again. And most of all, I'd go back to the places where my friends are, the people who offered me their hospitality, without asking anything in return, and hardly knowing me. Because in Emas's world the best place to be is the place where the good friends are.



The happiest moment of my life was when my daughter was born. I was simply overwhelmed by all the feelings, I can't describe it. And this was already 32 years ago.

The truth is that it was a shotgun wedding, as they used to say before. I met my ex-wife in Costa Brava, where I was working as a waiter. She was just passing through, as she lived in Germany, and it was a short-lived passion. But when I found out she was pregnant, I moved to Germany, for my daughter.

When the day of her birth finally arrived, I just don't have words to describe it. To tell the truth I didn't expect to have a baby, but the first time I held her in my arms was incredible. My arms were shaking. There is no way to express it. It is something that cannot be explained in words.

Three years later, I had to go back to Spain due to the compulsory military service. These three years that I spent in Germany with them were the best. Amazing. After finishing the military service, I went back. Maybe it was my own fault that, in the end, I left home, but I never lost contact with my daughter. Now she's a pilot in the USA. And we have a wonderful relationship. Whenever she can, she comes to visit me. Now I hope she will get married soon. 

Paco from Almería, Spain