As I write this I am sitting at home, in Roseburg, still completely unsure if the last four months of my life actually happened or if it was all a dream. I don't know, when you come home you expect some sort of grand welcome and you expect the world to have stopped or changed drastically. Honestly everything just feels the same.
My last two weeks in Spain passed by in a series of lasts: My last trip up the hill to the Alhambra, my last time running along the river, my last sunny afternoon spent in Garcia Lorca Park, my last night hanging out with my Spanish friends and dancing at Camborio, the last tapa, the last churros con chocolate, the last lunch with my host family...
When you study abroad no one really warns you how darn hard it is to come home. I mean, you look forward to seeing family and friends but it's not the same. Granada became home and I have so many friends and great people and places I left behind. I really do want to see them again in Granada but no matter how much I promise it's always really difficult to know if you ever will really go back. And if you do, will it be the same? Foreign study is like taking a slice of your life and physically moving it and putting it in a different location. So, it makes sense that when you return, you do leave a little bit of yourself behind. I just didn't expect the tears or the profound sadness that would come along with leaving.
Now that I am home, I am happy to be here and looking forward to Christmas and going back to Willamette. But I also am scared I will lose what I learned from Granada. Of course, I am referring to my Spanish but also to the way of life I lived for the past several months. The "no pasa nada" mentality of not taking anything too seriously and of not getting stressed out is something I definitely want to take back with me. But I guess the most important lesson I learned from my time in Granada is to value connections with people above all and to remember that regardless of cultural differences, people are people everywhere.
So if I could sum up the experience in a sentence? The most exhilarating and dynamic period of my life in which I have no regrets and only great memories. Now time to bring a bit of Spain back to the US.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Marruecos
Well I know it´s been a bit since I have written but finally I have something interesting to talk about. I just got back from a world-wind 5 day trip to Morocco which was quite the experience to say the least. I mean, the contrasts between it and Spain are startling, especially considering the distance (or lack of it) between the two. Basically I went without having any specific plans - just a good guide book and an idea of where I wanted to go, with my friend from my school. I am sure my parents don´t want to hear this, but I had a much better time flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants as it were then if I had planned it. I think Morocco does that to you: life is just more chaotic there and rightly so.
Anyway on Friday we took the fast ferry from Algeciras, Spain to Tangiers and arrived in the dark. I had heard stories about Tangiers and have to admit was a little nervous arriving. My book said the hostel was a close walk to the ferry terminal and despite being hassled by a cab driver who told us we would be robbed, we walked off on our own. I´m glad we did - it would have been a waste of money to go with him. As we walked though, the first thing I noticed was the lack of women on the streets. I mean there were a few but they were always accompanied by men and almost all covered, at least with a headscarf. We continued on our way and realized we didn´t know where we were going so finally we asked a waiter outside of a nearby restaurant. Instead of just directing us, he offered to show us the way which made me a little nervous but luckily we decided to trust him because it took several dark and windy streets to reach our hostel which was nice and comfortable enough although I am happy to be back in a country where there are actual toilets and toilet paper. The next morning we wandered around Tangiers for a bit searching for a restaurant. The theme of our trip was to be this: every café we walked by was just filled with men. All sitting at tables smoking and all sitting in chairs facing out the same direction out into the street. This made me a bit uncomfortable to say the least but nothing I couldn´t handle.
Next we hopped a train to Fez, which was a 5 hour ride. We had our own compartment that we shared with a very nice Moroccan family. The daughter could speak Spanish and between her and the mom sharing her bananas and apples and even a sandwhich with us, I felt right at home. It was interesting to watch the Moroccan countryside speed by in a blur of agricultural villages where donkeys seemed to be the main modes of transportation and to actually see the green of grassy fields. Of course, by the time we got to Fez, it was a lot more dry and we were definitely in a big city. Again we just decided to go to the hostel recommened by my guidebook and luckily the owner spoke English (I was getting worred since all the signs were either in French or Arabic). Fez is chaotic and traditional and modern all at the same time. It was just as common to see women in jeans and heels as to see them fully covered or men in robes as men in Armani. The medina is absolutely crazy with 900 unmarked streets and everything from donkeys to Converse shoes to vegetables to turtles on sale. We met an artisan who invited us into his shop and gave us mint tea while he explained the different kinds of carpets and berber symbols to us. I definitely ate my fair share of delicious cous-cous and tajine (vegetable soup) and the mint tea I had with every meal was out of this world. At one point we hiked up to some ruins overlooking the city and just looked down at the madness of it all. Hearing the hundreds of calls to prayer over the loudspeakers of the hundreds of mosques as the sun shone over the snow-capped Atlas Mountains in the distance was surreal to say the least.
On Monday morning we hopped a bus to Chef Chaouen, a mountainside village in the Rif Range famous for its tourism. The bus ride was comfortable enough if you ignored the pit toilets at the station or the women getting sick behind me every 10 minutes or so. I really enjoyed seeing the countryside and I also feel like I actually got to see real Morocco - a country dependent on its agriculture, where there are a large number of people who live in startling poverty. However, everyone I met was extremeley nice and open and interested in getting to know Americans, even if they were just trying to sell me something. I feel like that is something a lot of "more developed" countries have lost: the personal day-to-day contact that reminds us of our shared humanity.
That being said, Chef Chaouen was super touristy but still beautiful. The city is painted white with varying shades of blue in the heart of the Rif mountains. It was a relaxing change of pace after Fez although I can´t help but think if you only came to Chef Chaouen, you would really be missing the real Morocco. After this, on Tuesday morning we hopped on a rather ram-shackled looking bus which sped us towards Ceuta, the Spanish owned city of Morocco. The closer we got to the border, the more resorts seemed to spring up alongside the coastline, almost making me forget I was still in Morocco. At least until I saw mosques and signs in arabic and heard the call to prayer. After crossing the border on foot, I immediately felt like I had been transported to another world.I guess I would say it was one more materialistic at that. All in all, I really enjoyed Morocco, perhaps because at times I felt uncomfortable or a little uneasy.I am glad it was my last major trip because it was so different. For a country and people who have so little, I felt like I was given a lot....
Anyway on Friday we took the fast ferry from Algeciras, Spain to Tangiers and arrived in the dark. I had heard stories about Tangiers and have to admit was a little nervous arriving. My book said the hostel was a close walk to the ferry terminal and despite being hassled by a cab driver who told us we would be robbed, we walked off on our own. I´m glad we did - it would have been a waste of money to go with him. As we walked though, the first thing I noticed was the lack of women on the streets. I mean there were a few but they were always accompanied by men and almost all covered, at least with a headscarf. We continued on our way and realized we didn´t know where we were going so finally we asked a waiter outside of a nearby restaurant. Instead of just directing us, he offered to show us the way which made me a little nervous but luckily we decided to trust him because it took several dark and windy streets to reach our hostel which was nice and comfortable enough although I am happy to be back in a country where there are actual toilets and toilet paper. The next morning we wandered around Tangiers for a bit searching for a restaurant. The theme of our trip was to be this: every café we walked by was just filled with men. All sitting at tables smoking and all sitting in chairs facing out the same direction out into the street. This made me a bit uncomfortable to say the least but nothing I couldn´t handle.
Next we hopped a train to Fez, which was a 5 hour ride. We had our own compartment that we shared with a very nice Moroccan family. The daughter could speak Spanish and between her and the mom sharing her bananas and apples and even a sandwhich with us, I felt right at home. It was interesting to watch the Moroccan countryside speed by in a blur of agricultural villages where donkeys seemed to be the main modes of transportation and to actually see the green of grassy fields. Of course, by the time we got to Fez, it was a lot more dry and we were definitely in a big city. Again we just decided to go to the hostel recommened by my guidebook and luckily the owner spoke English (I was getting worred since all the signs were either in French or Arabic). Fez is chaotic and traditional and modern all at the same time. It was just as common to see women in jeans and heels as to see them fully covered or men in robes as men in Armani. The medina is absolutely crazy with 900 unmarked streets and everything from donkeys to Converse shoes to vegetables to turtles on sale. We met an artisan who invited us into his shop and gave us mint tea while he explained the different kinds of carpets and berber symbols to us. I definitely ate my fair share of delicious cous-cous and tajine (vegetable soup) and the mint tea I had with every meal was out of this world. At one point we hiked up to some ruins overlooking the city and just looked down at the madness of it all. Hearing the hundreds of calls to prayer over the loudspeakers of the hundreds of mosques as the sun shone over the snow-capped Atlas Mountains in the distance was surreal to say the least.
On Monday morning we hopped a bus to Chef Chaouen, a mountainside village in the Rif Range famous for its tourism. The bus ride was comfortable enough if you ignored the pit toilets at the station or the women getting sick behind me every 10 minutes or so. I really enjoyed seeing the countryside and I also feel like I actually got to see real Morocco - a country dependent on its agriculture, where there are a large number of people who live in startling poverty. However, everyone I met was extremeley nice and open and interested in getting to know Americans, even if they were just trying to sell me something. I feel like that is something a lot of "more developed" countries have lost: the personal day-to-day contact that reminds us of our shared humanity.
That being said, Chef Chaouen was super touristy but still beautiful. The city is painted white with varying shades of blue in the heart of the Rif mountains. It was a relaxing change of pace after Fez although I can´t help but think if you only came to Chef Chaouen, you would really be missing the real Morocco. After this, on Tuesday morning we hopped on a rather ram-shackled looking bus which sped us towards Ceuta, the Spanish owned city of Morocco. The closer we got to the border, the more resorts seemed to spring up alongside the coastline, almost making me forget I was still in Morocco. At least until I saw mosques and signs in arabic and heard the call to prayer. After crossing the border on foot, I immediately felt like I had been transported to another world.I guess I would say it was one more materialistic at that. All in all, I really enjoyed Morocco, perhaps because at times I felt uncomfortable or a little uneasy.I am glad it was my last major trip because it was so different. For a country and people who have so little, I felt like I was given a lot....
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
La Otra Cuidad de Las Luces
If you talk to anyone who has come to vacation in Spain, their first sentence usually is some variation of the following: " You´re going to Spain? Oh you have to go to Barcelona, it is one of my favorite cities ever!" So with my expectations high, I hopped on a late-night plane to see if what everyone said was true.
Of course, walking down Las Ramblas at 1 AM was probably not the best welcome to the city. Trying to avoid the groups of men selling beer cans and all of the club promoters while looking at a map and for directions to our hostel was a bit of a challenge, but soon we passed through the narrow and dark streets of the Gothic Quarter of the city to our small but nice hostel.
We slept in a little the next morning and then headed out to explore the city by day. In the light, the long pedestrian walkway of Las Ramblas had taken on a completely different personality. It was full of people selling everything from chicken and guinea pigs to flowers to paintings to massages. And of course, I have to mention the human art. All along the walkway were people dressed up as anything you could imagine, trying to get your attention and your coins. For example there was a man painted all in white sitting on a toilet or a person completely covered in fruit and dressed as a fruit stand. On our way up Las Ramblas, we stopped by the famous La Boquería market which if full of fresh seafood, meat, cheese, olives, spices, fruit, vegetables, basically all the goodies you could want.
Finally we managed to escape the madness of Plaza Catalunya and started our walk down tree-lined streets to visit Gaudí´s modern masterpiece, La Sagrada Familia. I have to say Barcelona reminds me of Paris architecturally speaking and definitely has a different feel than Madrid. Anyway when we got to La Sagrada Familia I was stunned. I mean it´s still under construction so there were cranes and tarps everywhere but the spires full of carvings to resemble trees and the brightly colored fruit-balls on the top alongside statues representing Jesus were a rather strange combination. But I have to say of all of the Cathedrals I´ve seen and all of the churches, it´s my favorite perhaps because it´s so eccentric and light-hearted.
Then we hopped on the metro to visit Gaudi´s park Guell. The park is bomb!!! There´s no other word to describe it. The longest park bench in the world, covered with mosaics rings a huge dirt plaza overlooking the city, the Mediterranean Ocean and the park itself including a house that looks like it should be out of Hansel and Gretel and a forest made completely of mosaic columns. The sun was shining, everyone was out enjoying the park and for once, I could sit and actually let it sink in that I was in Europe. Incredible.
Anyway that night we went out to a discoteca that turned out to be a long metro ride away plus a 40 minute walk. It was fun but at one point my friends and I left the dance floor to get some fresh air and when we came back everyone our age had suddenly disappeared and I swear that the youngest people there were two 28 year olds from Brazil that we met. So our night out in Barcelona wasn´t all that great but oh well, we discovered a very cool tiki bar that lit our drinks on fire at least.
The next day we spent shopping and wandering around by the waterfront and yes, I´m ashamed to admit it, eating at Hard Rock Cafe. I needed that 10 euro hamburger and 6 euro milkshake after all of that traveling. After filling ourselves up with chocolate crepes on the pier, we went to the neighborhood of Montjuic to watch a fountain show. But it wasn´t just any old fountain show. Oh no. The fountain had lights and a water flow that were choreographed to music and sat at the foot of the beautiful museum of modern art surrounded by cascading waterfalls. And did I mention it was free? Needless to say, we sat around being mesmorized by that for quite a while. I think that was my favorite part of Barcelona in the end. Then it was off to an Irish pub to watch the famous Fútbol Club Barça take on Bilbao. Although Barça is the best team in the league, they ended up tying the game. Oh well, I am still definitely getting into this fútbol thing!
So, my opinion of Barcelona? Okay, well it´s huge, people kept responding to me in English when I spoke Spanish, there were a lot more ummm, for lack of a better word, crazies around, and for the first time in Spain I didn´t always feel 100% safe or secure. However, it is beautiful, has a ton to do and awesome Gaudí architecture and I made sure to drink out of the lucky fountain to make sure I would return to the city someday. Still, it definitely made me appreciate how luck I am to study in Granada. ¡ Hasta el proxímo.....
Of course, walking down Las Ramblas at 1 AM was probably not the best welcome to the city. Trying to avoid the groups of men selling beer cans and all of the club promoters while looking at a map and for directions to our hostel was a bit of a challenge, but soon we passed through the narrow and dark streets of the Gothic Quarter of the city to our small but nice hostel.
We slept in a little the next morning and then headed out to explore the city by day. In the light, the long pedestrian walkway of Las Ramblas had taken on a completely different personality. It was full of people selling everything from chicken and guinea pigs to flowers to paintings to massages. And of course, I have to mention the human art. All along the walkway were people dressed up as anything you could imagine, trying to get your attention and your coins. For example there was a man painted all in white sitting on a toilet or a person completely covered in fruit and dressed as a fruit stand. On our way up Las Ramblas, we stopped by the famous La Boquería market which if full of fresh seafood, meat, cheese, olives, spices, fruit, vegetables, basically all the goodies you could want.
Finally we managed to escape the madness of Plaza Catalunya and started our walk down tree-lined streets to visit Gaudí´s modern masterpiece, La Sagrada Familia. I have to say Barcelona reminds me of Paris architecturally speaking and definitely has a different feel than Madrid. Anyway when we got to La Sagrada Familia I was stunned. I mean it´s still under construction so there were cranes and tarps everywhere but the spires full of carvings to resemble trees and the brightly colored fruit-balls on the top alongside statues representing Jesus were a rather strange combination. But I have to say of all of the Cathedrals I´ve seen and all of the churches, it´s my favorite perhaps because it´s so eccentric and light-hearted.
Then we hopped on the metro to visit Gaudi´s park Guell. The park is bomb!!! There´s no other word to describe it. The longest park bench in the world, covered with mosaics rings a huge dirt plaza overlooking the city, the Mediterranean Ocean and the park itself including a house that looks like it should be out of Hansel and Gretel and a forest made completely of mosaic columns. The sun was shining, everyone was out enjoying the park and for once, I could sit and actually let it sink in that I was in Europe. Incredible.
Anyway that night we went out to a discoteca that turned out to be a long metro ride away plus a 40 minute walk. It was fun but at one point my friends and I left the dance floor to get some fresh air and when we came back everyone our age had suddenly disappeared and I swear that the youngest people there were two 28 year olds from Brazil that we met. So our night out in Barcelona wasn´t all that great but oh well, we discovered a very cool tiki bar that lit our drinks on fire at least.
The next day we spent shopping and wandering around by the waterfront and yes, I´m ashamed to admit it, eating at Hard Rock Cafe. I needed that 10 euro hamburger and 6 euro milkshake after all of that traveling. After filling ourselves up with chocolate crepes on the pier, we went to the neighborhood of Montjuic to watch a fountain show. But it wasn´t just any old fountain show. Oh no. The fountain had lights and a water flow that were choreographed to music and sat at the foot of the beautiful museum of modern art surrounded by cascading waterfalls. And did I mention it was free? Needless to say, we sat around being mesmorized by that for quite a while. I think that was my favorite part of Barcelona in the end. Then it was off to an Irish pub to watch the famous Fútbol Club Barça take on Bilbao. Although Barça is the best team in the league, they ended up tying the game. Oh well, I am still definitely getting into this fútbol thing!
So, my opinion of Barcelona? Okay, well it´s huge, people kept responding to me in English when I spoke Spanish, there were a lot more ummm, for lack of a better word, crazies around, and for the first time in Spain I didn´t always feel 100% safe or secure. However, it is beautiful, has a ton to do and awesome Gaudí architecture and I made sure to drink out of the lucky fountain to make sure I would return to the city someday. Still, it definitely made me appreciate how luck I am to study in Granada. ¡ Hasta el proxímo.....
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Los Medicos y Otras Observaciones
So I spent a wonderful weekend in Sevilla which is as beautiful, warm and sunny (Spain just refuses to celebrate the fall) and so full of history it is ridiculously overwhelming!! The only problem with all of this wonderful traveling is that I have a sinus infection. And it can´t just be any usual sinus infection but in fact is the most painful one I have ever experienced.
Because of my travel plans, I caved in and went to the doctor with my program director yesterday. I know I have spoken about how cheap healthcare is in Spain but let me just reiterate the numbers for you. An office visit: 40 euros. Four medications, including an antibiotic: 26 euros. Another interesting thing is that when you arrive in a doctor´s office, you have to find out who the last person in line in front of you is in the waiting room. No one calls out your name -- you just have to keep an eye on the door. Anyway I was in the room for all of about 2 minutes while the doctor felt my sinuses and prescribed a mountain of cures. I am definitely feeling a lot better now though.
Other than this little bump in my daily schedule, things have been moving along quite well. Other than sleep and homework, life has been going by as usual: nights spent at bars eating tapas or churros y chocolate, days spent window shopping and hanging out with the host family. I spent a rather crowded and smokey night watching France beat Ireland in a heated World Cup qualifier. Although I was there with several Frenchies, I was definitely cheering for Ireland. I mean, at least I can cheer for them in my own language! I am also leaving for a weekend in Barcelona tonight and I am very excited about seeing all of Gaudí´s works and the "Paris of Spain". I will definitely let you know how that goes, especially since I am going to Morocco next weekend and so I should be trying to keep up on my posting a bit.
Once again, another short post. I just don´t seem to have the time to write anything that interesting anymore!! Too much fun to be had out and about!
Because of my travel plans, I caved in and went to the doctor with my program director yesterday. I know I have spoken about how cheap healthcare is in Spain but let me just reiterate the numbers for you. An office visit: 40 euros. Four medications, including an antibiotic: 26 euros. Another interesting thing is that when you arrive in a doctor´s office, you have to find out who the last person in line in front of you is in the waiting room. No one calls out your name -- you just have to keep an eye on the door. Anyway I was in the room for all of about 2 minutes while the doctor felt my sinuses and prescribed a mountain of cures. I am definitely feeling a lot better now though.
Other than this little bump in my daily schedule, things have been moving along quite well. Other than sleep and homework, life has been going by as usual: nights spent at bars eating tapas or churros y chocolate, days spent window shopping and hanging out with the host family. I spent a rather crowded and smokey night watching France beat Ireland in a heated World Cup qualifier. Although I was there with several Frenchies, I was definitely cheering for Ireland. I mean, at least I can cheer for them in my own language! I am also leaving for a weekend in Barcelona tonight and I am very excited about seeing all of Gaudí´s works and the "Paris of Spain". I will definitely let you know how that goes, especially since I am going to Morocco next weekend and so I should be trying to keep up on my posting a bit.
Once again, another short post. I just don´t seem to have the time to write anything that interesting anymore!! Too much fun to be had out and about!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Es que no quiero salir
A month and a week. That is all that remains of my time here in Granada. And I am very sad about it. I know, less than two months ago I was complaining about life here and how much I miss home, but now I truly feel like I have made a connection with the city and the country and the prospect of returning home to the same routine and real life is daunting. Plus I know that change in constant and what I will be coming back to will be different, as will I.
My friend Olivia came to visit me here this last week and playing tourist with her just made my appreciation of Granada grow. And it made me realize just how amazing my host family and my friends and even the city itself are. We spent some time in the Mediterranean town of Málaga which was fun but returning home to show Olivia the sites was a wake-up call. I got to see the city through a newcomer´s eyes again and I also got to return to some of my favorite places. We spent a lot of time at various bars or cafés, just people watching and talking, or wandering the streets and stumbling upon tiny plazas and local markets. I am almost regretting my decision to go to Bacelona for a weekend because that is a weekend I am not in Granada. And as far as my Morocco trip goes, I am still debating when I could possibly tear myself away from here.
It was at this point that I realized I can´t imagine leaving Spanish life behind. First of all I had two exams this week and for once, I didn´t spend hours studying and I didn´t stress about them as I would have at home. Instead, I did what I felt like doing, which including going out for tapas or churros with my friends because time is getting too short here. Okay so maybe my grades won´t turn out that well but I have much fonder memories now than I would have had I sat around poring over my notes. I say "yes" here so much more than I do back home and every single day is an adventure. Plus when you are abroad, so much of your mentality is about meeting new people and trying new things and I hate to say it, but getting back into that Willamette bubble just takes that away from you. I have seriously contemplated staying here for the full year but you and I both know I can´t... not only do I think my parents would shoot me dead but I guess I can´t avoid real life forever, and graduation requirements and jobs and internships and the future are still staring me in the face.
So I know this post may have turned into a stream-of-consciousness ramble but I feel better for having put it all out there, especially given some of my previous posts. Where I used to tear up thinking about all I am missing out on back home, I get misty-eyed thinking of all I will be leaving behind. I guess this just means I will have to make the most of my time left here but I am sure that no matter what, there will always be that feeling that there is so much more I could be doing. Any way I need to stop now. Thanks for listening.
My friend Olivia came to visit me here this last week and playing tourist with her just made my appreciation of Granada grow. And it made me realize just how amazing my host family and my friends and even the city itself are. We spent some time in the Mediterranean town of Málaga which was fun but returning home to show Olivia the sites was a wake-up call. I got to see the city through a newcomer´s eyes again and I also got to return to some of my favorite places. We spent a lot of time at various bars or cafés, just people watching and talking, or wandering the streets and stumbling upon tiny plazas and local markets. I am almost regretting my decision to go to Bacelona for a weekend because that is a weekend I am not in Granada. And as far as my Morocco trip goes, I am still debating when I could possibly tear myself away from here.
It was at this point that I realized I can´t imagine leaving Spanish life behind. First of all I had two exams this week and for once, I didn´t spend hours studying and I didn´t stress about them as I would have at home. Instead, I did what I felt like doing, which including going out for tapas or churros with my friends because time is getting too short here. Okay so maybe my grades won´t turn out that well but I have much fonder memories now than I would have had I sat around poring over my notes. I say "yes" here so much more than I do back home and every single day is an adventure. Plus when you are abroad, so much of your mentality is about meeting new people and trying new things and I hate to say it, but getting back into that Willamette bubble just takes that away from you. I have seriously contemplated staying here for the full year but you and I both know I can´t... not only do I think my parents would shoot me dead but I guess I can´t avoid real life forever, and graduation requirements and jobs and internships and the future are still staring me in the face.
So I know this post may have turned into a stream-of-consciousness ramble but I feel better for having put it all out there, especially given some of my previous posts. Where I used to tear up thinking about all I am missing out on back home, I get misty-eyed thinking of all I will be leaving behind. I guess this just means I will have to make the most of my time left here but I am sure that no matter what, there will always be that feeling that there is so much more I could be doing. Any way I need to stop now. Thanks for listening.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Madrid
If Granada is like Santa Fe, Madrid is, well, New York. It is huge, bustling, and full of things to do and see. Yet at the same time, it still has that Spanish charm that I seem to just find everywhere. I mean every corner you turn, there is some plaza or other or an incredibly beautiful building predating anything I have seen in the US.
So we started off our visit in Madrid in the museum of modern art, known as the Reina Sofia. I hate to say it, but I have never laughed so hard at any artwork before. I guess I just can´t appreciate things like the ´untitled box for standing in´ or a completely white exhibit room that is actually an exhibit in itself. The Picasso´s, Dalí´s and Miró´s were interesting enough but just not really my cup of tea. In reality, they just weirded me out a bit. However, next on our list was the Museo de Prado which is basically just second to the Louvre in Europe. Now this museum is incredible - it has works by Velzquez, El Greco, Goya, Ribera, Rembrandt and more. It is amazing how lifelike some of the pictures are and you could spend whole days just getting lost in the building. The problem was that I was rather tired and though I hate to admit it, I was feeling overwhelmed with all of the art after only 2 mere hours. So, like any American tourist, I went to Starbucks to get some sustenance.
Our next stop was The Escorial which is the huge and rather austere palace from the reign of King Felipe II. The library was impressive, as was the maseleoum were all of Spain´s kings and queens since Felipe´s time are buried along with other members of the royal family. I think I probably saw about 2000 coffins that day, which was fitting as it was halloween. To continue in that same vein, we drove up the the Valle de Los Caidos where Franco is buried. It is an incredible monument and I was very conflicted regarding my feelings towards it. First of all, it is where 50,000 nationalist soldiers are buried and Franco built it as a testament to the strength of Spain under his rule. However, the monument itself is incredible, carved straight into the mountain with the second largest basilica in the world. The cross that towers overhead is much taller than the Eiffel Tower and the whole thing overlooks a massive valley and can be seen from miles away. However, when I would stop to think about how many people died in the civil war and how much suffering came about from it, I was not particularly fond of the monument. But I can still appreciate it. If you ask any Spaniard, they seem to express the same feelings. After all, their conflict was much more recent than our civil war and there are still many remains today.
Anyway, all seriousness aside, I was excited to celebrate halloween in Madrid. People actually do dress up and it is a rather popular holiday for young people. So we met up with a friend who lived in Madrid that we had met earlier and went out to a delicious dinner before meeting up with some other Spaniards, Mexicans, Venezuelans, and Costa Ricans to go dancing. It was rather fun but before long, all of us Americans were ready to head back and go to sleep. Of course, no one could believe that we would want to go home at 4:30 in the morning as the night was just getting started in Madrid. One day, I am sure I am just going to see the sun rise. In fact, the next morning when I woke up at 8 to get breakfast, there were many people walking along the streets still in costume, just heading home for the day.
I spent a glorious afternoon in the Parque de Retiro in Madrid which is basically equivalent to Central Park. The sun was shining, it was warm, the park was full of trees with autumn leaves, and everyone was out, either taking a walk, paddling a boat on the lake, watching the street performers, or just sitting in the grass. I have to say I really miss grass and decidious trees here in Granada, so it was so nice to actually feel like it was fall. If there is only one thing the Europeans do right -which I know they actually do a lot of things right- it´s that there are parks everywhere.
The next two excursions we took were to Segovia to see the impressive and more than a thousand year old roman acqueduct, and then to Toledo to visit the medieval city where Don Quixote was born. Both were charming and full of fall sunshine. In Segovia, I visited the royal palace which is supposedly the model for the castle in ´Snow White.´ During both excursions though, I was feeling a bit tired and sick so I probably didn´t appreciate them as much as a should have. But I have to say, after visiting Madrid, I am finding that it will be harder and harder for me to leave here. Don´t get me wrong, I can´t wait to see all of you, but I am finally settling into Spanish life and I know that there are many aspects of it that I will miss, much more than I originally thought.
So we started off our visit in Madrid in the museum of modern art, known as the Reina Sofia. I hate to say it, but I have never laughed so hard at any artwork before. I guess I just can´t appreciate things like the ´untitled box for standing in´ or a completely white exhibit room that is actually an exhibit in itself. The Picasso´s, Dalí´s and Miró´s were interesting enough but just not really my cup of tea. In reality, they just weirded me out a bit. However, next on our list was the Museo de Prado which is basically just second to the Louvre in Europe. Now this museum is incredible - it has works by Velzquez, El Greco, Goya, Ribera, Rembrandt and more. It is amazing how lifelike some of the pictures are and you could spend whole days just getting lost in the building. The problem was that I was rather tired and though I hate to admit it, I was feeling overwhelmed with all of the art after only 2 mere hours. So, like any American tourist, I went to Starbucks to get some sustenance.
Our next stop was The Escorial which is the huge and rather austere palace from the reign of King Felipe II. The library was impressive, as was the maseleoum were all of Spain´s kings and queens since Felipe´s time are buried along with other members of the royal family. I think I probably saw about 2000 coffins that day, which was fitting as it was halloween. To continue in that same vein, we drove up the the Valle de Los Caidos where Franco is buried. It is an incredible monument and I was very conflicted regarding my feelings towards it. First of all, it is where 50,000 nationalist soldiers are buried and Franco built it as a testament to the strength of Spain under his rule. However, the monument itself is incredible, carved straight into the mountain with the second largest basilica in the world. The cross that towers overhead is much taller than the Eiffel Tower and the whole thing overlooks a massive valley and can be seen from miles away. However, when I would stop to think about how many people died in the civil war and how much suffering came about from it, I was not particularly fond of the monument. But I can still appreciate it. If you ask any Spaniard, they seem to express the same feelings. After all, their conflict was much more recent than our civil war and there are still many remains today.
Anyway, all seriousness aside, I was excited to celebrate halloween in Madrid. People actually do dress up and it is a rather popular holiday for young people. So we met up with a friend who lived in Madrid that we had met earlier and went out to a delicious dinner before meeting up with some other Spaniards, Mexicans, Venezuelans, and Costa Ricans to go dancing. It was rather fun but before long, all of us Americans were ready to head back and go to sleep. Of course, no one could believe that we would want to go home at 4:30 in the morning as the night was just getting started in Madrid. One day, I am sure I am just going to see the sun rise. In fact, the next morning when I woke up at 8 to get breakfast, there were many people walking along the streets still in costume, just heading home for the day.
I spent a glorious afternoon in the Parque de Retiro in Madrid which is basically equivalent to Central Park. The sun was shining, it was warm, the park was full of trees with autumn leaves, and everyone was out, either taking a walk, paddling a boat on the lake, watching the street performers, or just sitting in the grass. I have to say I really miss grass and decidious trees here in Granada, so it was so nice to actually feel like it was fall. If there is only one thing the Europeans do right -which I know they actually do a lot of things right- it´s that there are parks everywhere.
The next two excursions we took were to Segovia to see the impressive and more than a thousand year old roman acqueduct, and then to Toledo to visit the medieval city where Don Quixote was born. Both were charming and full of fall sunshine. In Segovia, I visited the royal palace which is supposedly the model for the castle in ´Snow White.´ During both excursions though, I was feeling a bit tired and sick so I probably didn´t appreciate them as much as a should have. But I have to say, after visiting Madrid, I am finding that it will be harder and harder for me to leave here. Don´t get me wrong, I can´t wait to see all of you, but I am finally settling into Spanish life and I know that there are many aspects of it that I will miss, much more than I originally thought.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Menos que un mitad
So my life continues without my computer and so does the long Indian summer we´ve been having here. Not only is it tshirt and shorts weather but the sun is out full force. I can´t believe it! So much for that red peacoat I just bought.
My experience is more than halfway over and I have to say I´m excited for the next two months but also looking forward to coming home (though not to the rain and clouds). The only problem is that it is just now that I seem to be making more international friends and it is also just starting now that I will be busy almost every weekend. Our program is going to Madrid for five days starting tomorrow, then my friend Olivia is coming to visit and we are going to Malaga (right in the midst of midterms too!), then our program goes to Sevilla, then I have plane tickets to Barcelona, and then I plan on going to Morocco. Whew... I am disappointed that going to Portugal doesn´t seem to be like much of an option now but I guess I can´t go everywhere. There´s just not enough time! It´s frustrating though because there´s still so much to do and see but I am also feeling a lot lazier about traveling. Mainly that I never want to see the inside of the Granada bus station ever again.
My classes are going fine although rather disappointing in that I feel I am not learning anything new about the economy or much about translation. It was frustrating today because my econ professor showed us a video by Glen Beck when we were talking about immigration. Of course, I can´t stand Glen Beck but then the professor went on to say he should be censored and that he doesn´t understand why nudity is so taboo in the US while anyone can basically say anything when it comes to political rhetoric. I tried to explain to him about free speech laws in the US but he just kept saying ¨we have free speech in Spain but no one here would be allowed to say the Mexican president is lazy and stupid.¨ Then he went on to say that someone´s cultural level should be determined by how much school they went to. For example, he says in Spain the ¨cultural level¨is close to 30% meaning that 30% of people are university educated. We tried to tell him that culture and education have nothing to do with one another per se but he just kept negating our viewpoint. Needless to say it was a frustrating experience, especially since we could only speak in Spanish.
Well that´s all for now - I have to head home for lunch soon. I will let you know how Madrid goes though! ¡Hasta hora!
My experience is more than halfway over and I have to say I´m excited for the next two months but also looking forward to coming home (though not to the rain and clouds). The only problem is that it is just now that I seem to be making more international friends and it is also just starting now that I will be busy almost every weekend. Our program is going to Madrid for five days starting tomorrow, then my friend Olivia is coming to visit and we are going to Malaga (right in the midst of midterms too!), then our program goes to Sevilla, then I have plane tickets to Barcelona, and then I plan on going to Morocco. Whew... I am disappointed that going to Portugal doesn´t seem to be like much of an option now but I guess I can´t go everywhere. There´s just not enough time! It´s frustrating though because there´s still so much to do and see but I am also feeling a lot lazier about traveling. Mainly that I never want to see the inside of the Granada bus station ever again.
My classes are going fine although rather disappointing in that I feel I am not learning anything new about the economy or much about translation. It was frustrating today because my econ professor showed us a video by Glen Beck when we were talking about immigration. Of course, I can´t stand Glen Beck but then the professor went on to say he should be censored and that he doesn´t understand why nudity is so taboo in the US while anyone can basically say anything when it comes to political rhetoric. I tried to explain to him about free speech laws in the US but he just kept saying ¨we have free speech in Spain but no one here would be allowed to say the Mexican president is lazy and stupid.¨ Then he went on to say that someone´s cultural level should be determined by how much school they went to. For example, he says in Spain the ¨cultural level¨is close to 30% meaning that 30% of people are university educated. We tried to tell him that culture and education have nothing to do with one another per se but he just kept negating our viewpoint. Needless to say it was a frustrating experience, especially since we could only speak in Spanish.
Well that´s all for now - I have to head home for lunch soon. I will let you know how Madrid goes though! ¡Hasta hora!
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
La Vida Simple
Technology: Can't live with it, can't live without it. I never understood just how dicey this relationship was until my time abroad. You see, my computer crashed on Sunday. Completely and utterly will not work. Which in any case is awful but it is especially worse when you are abroad. After all, it's my contact with the outside world and without it, how will I write this blog that I know you are all anxiously awaiting every Sunday and Wednesday (Yeah about that... I know it´s Tuesday. My writing may be a little less regular now that I'm computerless at home? More importantly, how will I keep up with Mad Men or Gossip Girl or the Tudors?
In reality, what seemed like an end of the world scenario to me has proven to be almost a blessing in disguise. You see, I have been spending way more time online at my home here than I care to admit. And now that I must walk 20 minutes to the school to use the internet, I am actually doing what I initially set out to do: read more, study more, watch more Spanish tv, and just plain get out of the house. I am not completely cut off from the world because my cell phone still works and I do have computer access at school, but it is forcing me to actually be productive. I have been finding it so easy here to sit around for most of the afternoon, spending hours on facebook or watching those American tv series I think I can´t live without.
My disc to reformat my hard drive should be arriving next week and I have my pictures online and on an external hard drive so all is not lost. At this point, I am (almost) happy it happened. Especially since I stumbled upon a tv channel last night that was showing the dubbed version of a Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes episode. Just remember, if you don´t hear from me for a while, I am [probably] not stranded in a small Spanish village without food, water or money. Rather, I am taking a long walk or trying to figure out what all those weird Spanish words in Unamuno´s book mean. ¡Que guay!
In reality, what seemed like an end of the world scenario to me has proven to be almost a blessing in disguise. You see, I have been spending way more time online at my home here than I care to admit. And now that I must walk 20 minutes to the school to use the internet, I am actually doing what I initially set out to do: read more, study more, watch more Spanish tv, and just plain get out of the house. I am not completely cut off from the world because my cell phone still works and I do have computer access at school, but it is forcing me to actually be productive. I have been finding it so easy here to sit around for most of the afternoon, spending hours on facebook or watching those American tv series I think I can´t live without.
My disc to reformat my hard drive should be arriving next week and I have my pictures online and on an external hard drive so all is not lost. At this point, I am (almost) happy it happened. Especially since I stumbled upon a tv channel last night that was showing the dubbed version of a Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes episode. Just remember, if you don´t hear from me for a while, I am [probably] not stranded in a small Spanish village without food, water or money. Rather, I am taking a long walk or trying to figure out what all those weird Spanish words in Unamuno´s book mean. ¡Que guay!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
La gente sale a las 4:30 por la manana...
I am sure you will all be glad to know that yours truly has returned from yet another weekend getaway without a scratch (but perhaps with much darker circles under my eyes). I spent our four day weekend in the north of Spain in a town known as Santiago de Compostela situated in the region of Galicia.
Galicia is known for its rain and happily, it was misting a little while we were there. Seriously, I enjoyed every last drop! It is also much greener and actually has some fir trees and grass which is a scarce commodity down south in Andalucia. Most of the houses are stone and judging by the smells throughout the city, fishing is big business.
Anyway I decided to go to Santiago de Compostela to see a different part of Spain but also to visit the famous Cathedral. Santiago was one of the apostles and his body is buried in the Cathedral. While I am not familiar with the whole story, there is something about Santiago being told by God to follow a star and he ended up in what is now Compostela where he died. Anyway, people from all over the world make pilgrimages to the cathedral, some starting as far away as France or Portugal and walking for over a month! When I went to mass on Sunday to see the huge incense burner, there were probably over 1000 people inside the church and many more outside waiting to get in. Crazy.
The cathedral was beautiful and old (originally founded in 1072) and I made sure to hug the gold bust of Santiago for luck. But it was really the city that made the trip great. For some reason, people seemed much more open and happy to talk to us there and the tiny medieval cobblestoned streets and huge plazas were, quite honestly, charming. I know, that's such a horrible cliche word to use but I really can't think of anyway else to describe it. However, one aspect of the trip I did not quite agree with. So, like our 60 year old hostel owner, my host mom, and every other Spaniard of any age, creed, or religion will tell you to do, we decided to go out on Saturday night. Of course, by now we are somewhat accustomed to the late hours here and we went to a bar before trying to go dancing at around 2 AM. The first discoteca we entered was completely empty except for us. The next was filled with 30-40 year olds trying out their amazing salsa skills. So as not to embarrass ourselves, we moved on. By 3:30 AM, after similar luck at 4 other empty discotecas around the downtown area, we collapsed by the cathedral, deciding just to take in the view and night air. A few of our Spanish contemporaries were walking by so we stopped them out of curiosity to ask where everyone was. I mean, Santiago is a university town after all. We were informed that no one even goes to the clubs in the city until 4:30. In the morning! As much as I wanted to dance, I do also have a very human need for sleep, so we gave up.
We ate pulpo a la gallego -- octopus cooked with potatoes. It is completely delicious! I also did my fair share of pastry eating which I feel is an essential element to any trip abroad, even daily during my extended "trip" to Granada. Also, I was happy to find a crepe restaurant serving spinach and goat cheese crepes on the plaza which was a very nice change: I hadn't eaten much in the way of vegetables since my carrot in Paris. Perhaps the best meal though was the one we bought at the grocery store in Noia, a small fishing village about an hour away from Santiago, and ended up eating at a bus stop. We were looking for a beach but hunger got the best of us and once again we showed our true red, white, and blue colors, eating on the side of the road which would horrify any self-respecting Spaniard.
Basically it was a nice relaxing trip after the whirlwind that was Ireland and Paris. I finally am going to stay in Granada for a little bit, at least until the end of the month when we have a long excursion to Madrid. I am exhausted of airports, buses, and metros though I can now navigate all like a pro. After that? Sevilla? Barcelona? Morocco? Portugal? Maybe all, although my bank account may not be agreeing with me at the moment.
Un saludo, Jenny
Galicia is known for its rain and happily, it was misting a little while we were there. Seriously, I enjoyed every last drop! It is also much greener and actually has some fir trees and grass which is a scarce commodity down south in Andalucia. Most of the houses are stone and judging by the smells throughout the city, fishing is big business.
Anyway I decided to go to Santiago de Compostela to see a different part of Spain but also to visit the famous Cathedral. Santiago was one of the apostles and his body is buried in the Cathedral. While I am not familiar with the whole story, there is something about Santiago being told by God to follow a star and he ended up in what is now Compostela where he died. Anyway, people from all over the world make pilgrimages to the cathedral, some starting as far away as France or Portugal and walking for over a month! When I went to mass on Sunday to see the huge incense burner, there were probably over 1000 people inside the church and many more outside waiting to get in. Crazy.
The cathedral was beautiful and old (originally founded in 1072) and I made sure to hug the gold bust of Santiago for luck. But it was really the city that made the trip great. For some reason, people seemed much more open and happy to talk to us there and the tiny medieval cobblestoned streets and huge plazas were, quite honestly, charming. I know, that's such a horrible cliche word to use but I really can't think of anyway else to describe it. However, one aspect of the trip I did not quite agree with. So, like our 60 year old hostel owner, my host mom, and every other Spaniard of any age, creed, or religion will tell you to do, we decided to go out on Saturday night. Of course, by now we are somewhat accustomed to the late hours here and we went to a bar before trying to go dancing at around 2 AM. The first discoteca we entered was completely empty except for us. The next was filled with 30-40 year olds trying out their amazing salsa skills. So as not to embarrass ourselves, we moved on. By 3:30 AM, after similar luck at 4 other empty discotecas around the downtown area, we collapsed by the cathedral, deciding just to take in the view and night air. A few of our Spanish contemporaries were walking by so we stopped them out of curiosity to ask where everyone was. I mean, Santiago is a university town after all. We were informed that no one even goes to the clubs in the city until 4:30. In the morning! As much as I wanted to dance, I do also have a very human need for sleep, so we gave up.
We ate pulpo a la gallego -- octopus cooked with potatoes. It is completely delicious! I also did my fair share of pastry eating which I feel is an essential element to any trip abroad, even daily during my extended "trip" to Granada. Also, I was happy to find a crepe restaurant serving spinach and goat cheese crepes on the plaza which was a very nice change: I hadn't eaten much in the way of vegetables since my carrot in Paris. Perhaps the best meal though was the one we bought at the grocery store in Noia, a small fishing village about an hour away from Santiago, and ended up eating at a bus stop. We were looking for a beach but hunger got the best of us and once again we showed our true red, white, and blue colors, eating on the side of the road which would horrify any self-respecting Spaniard.
Basically it was a nice relaxing trip after the whirlwind that was Ireland and Paris. I finally am going to stay in Granada for a little bit, at least until the end of the month when we have a long excursion to Madrid. I am exhausted of airports, buses, and metros though I can now navigate all like a pro. After that? Sevilla? Barcelona? Morocco? Portugal? Maybe all, although my bank account may not be agreeing with me at the moment.
Un saludo, Jenny
Thursday, October 8, 2009
La Regresa
Sorry to have missed my last post but I was quite busy. You know, traveling around Ireland and Paris will do that to you. Paris was absolutely lovely too despite the short time I spent there and the weather. I need to go back though -- there was so much I missed.
Anyway I actually have to use this blog to write about an assignment or two while I am abroad (lame, right?). Actually I hope it's interesting to you guys. So here's the prompt: It is very common for students to experience a sense of “homecoming” when they return from their mid-semester break. Take the time now to reflect on this phenomenon and write down your thoughts.
Coming back to Spain after my week away in Ireland and Paris was rather bittersweet. What many may have thought would have been a relief was also a bit sad. I almost experienced the opposite feeling when I arrived in Ireland: it felt like coming home. However, as time wore on, I began to miss my bed, my host family, and living in a city where I know exactly where everything is and how things work. I hate to say it, but my friends and I who were traveling together actually spent a fair bit of time comparing Spain to Ireland and this served to cast Granada in a negative light in our minds for a while.
That being said, Paris was a bit of a different story. We were only there a short while and people were very nice and helpful but I also felt more vulnerable not knowing any of the language. Between our Spanish and English skills and a smattering of French vocabulary, we got along fine and were soon riding the metro like locals. But when we were waiting for our flight to Madrid, it was nice to hear Spanish again. I had forgotten how much I loved hearing the language rolling off of people's tongues. It just has a quality that French and English do not.
I guess what I noticed the most after we arrived in Madrid was not necessarily a sense of homecoming but of comfort. We started making fun of various things in Spain, like the scary drivers and the fact that it didn't take long to hear a catcall or two. It was then that I realized that you only truly can call a place home if you can make fun of it. I know it may sound weird to say, but think of all of the Roseburg or Salem or even Oregon jokes you hear. No one but a native has a right to bash on their hometown. I did breath a sigh of relief when we finally arrived in Granada again, though this may have been because it was 4:30 AM and I had class in four hours so I was looking forward to some quick sleep.
As I am leaving Granada again this evening to head north to Santiago de Compostela on the Atlantic coast for a few days, I think that I will be even happier to return. As much fun as traveling is, it certainly takes a lot of you. It's nice to have a home base to come back to, no matter where it is and despite everything, Granada is where I am most comfortable here in Europe. Maybe it's because we have such good comfort food here...
Anyway I actually have to use this blog to write about an assignment or two while I am abroad (lame, right?). Actually I hope it's interesting to you guys. So here's the prompt: It is very common for students to experience a sense of “homecoming” when they return from their mid-semester break. Take the time now to reflect on this phenomenon and write down your thoughts.
Coming back to Spain after my week away in Ireland and Paris was rather bittersweet. What many may have thought would have been a relief was also a bit sad. I almost experienced the opposite feeling when I arrived in Ireland: it felt like coming home. However, as time wore on, I began to miss my bed, my host family, and living in a city where I know exactly where everything is and how things work. I hate to say it, but my friends and I who were traveling together actually spent a fair bit of time comparing Spain to Ireland and this served to cast Granada in a negative light in our minds for a while.
That being said, Paris was a bit of a different story. We were only there a short while and people were very nice and helpful but I also felt more vulnerable not knowing any of the language. Between our Spanish and English skills and a smattering of French vocabulary, we got along fine and were soon riding the metro like locals. But when we were waiting for our flight to Madrid, it was nice to hear Spanish again. I had forgotten how much I loved hearing the language rolling off of people's tongues. It just has a quality that French and English do not.
I guess what I noticed the most after we arrived in Madrid was not necessarily a sense of homecoming but of comfort. We started making fun of various things in Spain, like the scary drivers and the fact that it didn't take long to hear a catcall or two. It was then that I realized that you only truly can call a place home if you can make fun of it. I know it may sound weird to say, but think of all of the Roseburg or Salem or even Oregon jokes you hear. No one but a native has a right to bash on their hometown. I did breath a sigh of relief when we finally arrived in Granada again, though this may have been because it was 4:30 AM and I had class in four hours so I was looking forward to some quick sleep.
As I am leaving Granada again this evening to head north to Santiago de Compostela on the Atlantic coast for a few days, I think that I will be even happier to return. As much fun as traveling is, it certainly takes a lot of you. It's nice to have a home base to come back to, no matter where it is and despite everything, Granada is where I am most comfortable here in Europe. Maybe it's because we have such good comfort food here...
Friday, October 2, 2009
Irlanda
"May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your field,
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand"
Growing up as a member of the Leahy clan (my mom's side of the family), Irish blessings and proverbs were always prevalent, especially the one above. Which makes my being in Ireland right now all the more special. I do love Spain, but when that plane was flying into Dublin and touched down at the airport, it felt like I had arrived home. People were speaking English, the green of the nearby hills was astounding, and I literally could not stop smiling.
I have come to Ireland to visit a friend that is studying in Belfast this semester but now that I am here, I know that I have really come more for myself. Dublin was a revelation. Walking through the sun-dappled campus of Trinity College as the leaves were starting to change for the fall made me almost decide right then and there to stay and never leave the city. Later, even after the rain came and we were no longer able to lay out in front of Christchurch chapel on the soft grass, the streets were still alive. We rented bikes and rode through Phoenix Park, the largest park in Europe, and were treated to the sight of the President of Ireland speeding by towards her home in a motorcade. Around the corner, we came across hundreds of deer grazing in the woods before stopping at a cafe next to a small castle and having hot chocolate and crisps.
I apologize if I am waxing way too poetic about this country, but I can't really help it. Even on the bus ride from Dublin to Belfast, I was shocked by how much it resembled parts of northern Oregon. Except for that green. I have never seen grass so vibrant before in my life. And the small towns we drove through on our way here were bursting with rock walls, neat rows of houses with colorful doors, and rivers meandering through the center.
So I look forward to my next few days here before I depart for Paris and head back to Granada. I definitely will come back here in whatever way I can. After all, the hostel I stayed at in Dublin is hiring......
May the wind be always at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your field,
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand"
Growing up as a member of the Leahy clan (my mom's side of the family), Irish blessings and proverbs were always prevalent, especially the one above. Which makes my being in Ireland right now all the more special. I do love Spain, but when that plane was flying into Dublin and touched down at the airport, it felt like I had arrived home. People were speaking English, the green of the nearby hills was astounding, and I literally could not stop smiling.
I have come to Ireland to visit a friend that is studying in Belfast this semester but now that I am here, I know that I have really come more for myself. Dublin was a revelation. Walking through the sun-dappled campus of Trinity College as the leaves were starting to change for the fall made me almost decide right then and there to stay and never leave the city. Later, even after the rain came and we were no longer able to lay out in front of Christchurch chapel on the soft grass, the streets were still alive. We rented bikes and rode through Phoenix Park, the largest park in Europe, and were treated to the sight of the President of Ireland speeding by towards her home in a motorcade. Around the corner, we came across hundreds of deer grazing in the woods before stopping at a cafe next to a small castle and having hot chocolate and crisps.
I apologize if I am waxing way too poetic about this country, but I can't really help it. Even on the bus ride from Dublin to Belfast, I was shocked by how much it resembled parts of northern Oregon. Except for that green. I have never seen grass so vibrant before in my life. And the small towns we drove through on our way here were bursting with rock walls, neat rows of houses with colorful doors, and rivers meandering through the center.
So I look forward to my next few days here before I depart for Paris and head back to Granada. I definitely will come back here in whatever way I can. After all, the hostel I stayed at in Dublin is hiring......
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
La Corrida de Toros
Between studying for two tests and preparing for my upcoming trip to Ireland and Paris, I have had little time for many cultural adventures. That is until this weekend. I visited the Capilla Real where King Ferdinand and Queen Isabel are buried, as well as the enormous Cathedral built by Carlos V. And not only did I attend my first bullfight but I also got to wade through the craziness that is the celebration of the Virgin of Angustias. I know I have mentioned this whole saint thing before but today was the day that the wooden figurine of the Virgin was paraded all around town and the place was packed! Stall after stall of vendors selling dried fruit and chestnuts literally roasting on an open fire filled the streets. The most popular places were those selling the "Torta de la Virgin" which is basically a huge pastry filled with chocolate. What would have usually taken me a 30 minute walk to get home from the Plaza de Toros took closer to an hour because of the crowd.
But back to this bullfight. I know I have mentioned the Spanish tradition of bullfighting before but now having actually seen a complete corrida here in Granada, I feel like I have a little more to go on than just here-say from various Spaniards. So yes, here in Spain the bull is killed and at first, I was shocked and a little disgusted watching it. However as the corrida went on, despite my best intentions, I began to enjoy it. I don't think I can ever get used to the killing part but there really is something noble about the bulls. Think about it this way: (PETA people are going to hate me) hundreds of thousands of cows go to slaughter every day for our hamburgers, yet here, that animal is glorified. Red meat is not very popular in Spain and I actually had a hamburger the other day made of ham. The bulls used in corridas are worth thousands of dollars and are viewed by fans as the protagonist in the whole show and treated with respect.
So here is how it works. First, the matador uses his bandera to get the bull to charge just to show the audience how strong the bull actually is. I think at this point, if the bull was viewed to be not fit to the task, they would send it home. Then two men on horseback (their horses are covered with armor and wear blindfolds. This is the part that bothers me the most) known as picadors come out and stab the back of the bull once. Usually the bull ends up charging the horse who stands there and takes it, though I assume the horse doesn't get hurt because of the armor but I don't really know for sure. Then the matador is given smaller stakes to put in the bull's back, which he does with no protection. Finally, he uses the smaller red cape to do some amazing fancy footwork before killing the bull with a carefully aimed sword.
In this particular corrida, one of the matadors actually was shoved to the ground and his leg was mauled bad enough that he was bleeding through his pants and had to wear a sort of tourniquet. However, he came back better than ever and proceeded to do some crazy maneuvering. For example, once he got on his knees and coaxed the bull over with his bandera; he did this more than once. Another time, he had one hand on the bull's back and it was almost like the two of them were dancing together. When a matador does really well, the audience will stand up and wave white flags and if the bull is exceptionally brave, they will display the body to the audience.
I know this may sound horrible and as we left the stadium and were greeted by a few protesters, reality set back in, but I actually really enjoyed the experience. I have heard that in Mexico, they do not actually kill the bull so that would perhaps be better to see. However, now I feel like I understand a little more about the sport and the culture behind it. One thing I do have to say though. Do not, DO NOT watch your first bullfight on TV. Without the atmosphere and the band playing the Paso Doble in the background, I can imagine that would be horrible...
But back to this bullfight. I know I have mentioned the Spanish tradition of bullfighting before but now having actually seen a complete corrida here in Granada, I feel like I have a little more to go on than just here-say from various Spaniards. So yes, here in Spain the bull is killed and at first, I was shocked and a little disgusted watching it. However as the corrida went on, despite my best intentions, I began to enjoy it. I don't think I can ever get used to the killing part but there really is something noble about the bulls. Think about it this way: (PETA people are going to hate me) hundreds of thousands of cows go to slaughter every day for our hamburgers, yet here, that animal is glorified. Red meat is not very popular in Spain and I actually had a hamburger the other day made of ham. The bulls used in corridas are worth thousands of dollars and are viewed by fans as the protagonist in the whole show and treated with respect.
So here is how it works. First, the matador uses his bandera to get the bull to charge just to show the audience how strong the bull actually is. I think at this point, if the bull was viewed to be not fit to the task, they would send it home. Then two men on horseback (their horses are covered with armor and wear blindfolds. This is the part that bothers me the most) known as picadors come out and stab the back of the bull once. Usually the bull ends up charging the horse who stands there and takes it, though I assume the horse doesn't get hurt because of the armor but I don't really know for sure. Then the matador is given smaller stakes to put in the bull's back, which he does with no protection. Finally, he uses the smaller red cape to do some amazing fancy footwork before killing the bull with a carefully aimed sword.
In this particular corrida, one of the matadors actually was shoved to the ground and his leg was mauled bad enough that he was bleeding through his pants and had to wear a sort of tourniquet. However, he came back better than ever and proceeded to do some crazy maneuvering. For example, once he got on his knees and coaxed the bull over with his bandera; he did this more than once. Another time, he had one hand on the bull's back and it was almost like the two of them were dancing together. When a matador does really well, the audience will stand up and wave white flags and if the bull is exceptionally brave, they will display the body to the audience.
I know this may sound horrible and as we left the stadium and were greeted by a few protesters, reality set back in, but I actually really enjoyed the experience. I have heard that in Mexico, they do not actually kill the bull so that would perhaps be better to see. However, now I feel like I understand a little more about the sport and the culture behind it. One thing I do have to say though. Do not, DO NOT watch your first bullfight on TV. Without the atmosphere and the band playing the Paso Doble in the background, I can imagine that would be horrible...
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Because I'm tired of putting a few of my photos here instead of letting you see all of them...
http://jsewardsespana.shutterfly.com/
La Alhambra
Sometimes a place is so famous that you think there is no way it can live up to all of the hype surrounding it. You know that the moment you enter inside, it will be a let-down and no matter how much you try to build it up in your mind, it will never resemble the place that you imagined. The Alhambra is not this place.
Exactly four weeks after my initial arrival in Granada, we took our first tour of the Generalife and the Alhambra. The Generalife was the royal family's residence and The Alhambra (mainly the Palacio de los Nazaries) was the Sultan's palace during the Arabic rule in Granada which lasted from 711-1492. Despite the crowd of tourists and the restoration of various areas of the palace, it was an incredible experience.
First walking into the Palacio de los Nazaries, I kept thinking "wow, this is it?" Sure there were mosaics and intricate designs on the walls but especially after our guide told us they were made from moldings, I was a little underwhelmed. However, we continued through the room and entered into the first patio. The fountain in the center was low set since Arab rulers did not have thrones -- they sat on carpets. But the facades of the buildings were completely covered with Arabic characters and designs in plaster. If you looked closely, it was amazing how many actual words were written and apparently, these form poems and phrases, welcoming visitors and describing parables.
We moved on to one of the most famous parts of The Palace where foreign visitors would enter to meet with The Sultan. Here a long pool reflected the imposing arches of the entryway. Once inside, the entire tower was again covered with Arabic figures and detail which at one point were painted in reds, blues, and greens. The ceiling was a marvel too, made of dark wood with a spiral design of stars and planets to represent the seven levels of heaven. I am sure that back at the peak of the Muslim Empire with the floor covered in carpets and the brilliant mosaics shining above the water, the palace must have been spectacular. It still is.
I know that describing a place to someone via a blog is perhaps boring for some of you, dear readers. However, if you never see The Alhambra, I feel it is a duty of mine to describe it to you. Seriously, it should be one of the seven wonders of the world, even if it is missing some color...
Exactly four weeks after my initial arrival in Granada, we took our first tour of the Generalife and the Alhambra. The Generalife was the royal family's residence and The Alhambra (mainly the Palacio de los Nazaries) was the Sultan's palace during the Arabic rule in Granada which lasted from 711-1492. Despite the crowd of tourists and the restoration of various areas of the palace, it was an incredible experience.
First walking into the Palacio de los Nazaries, I kept thinking "wow, this is it?" Sure there were mosaics and intricate designs on the walls but especially after our guide told us they were made from moldings, I was a little underwhelmed. However, we continued through the room and entered into the first patio. The fountain in the center was low set since Arab rulers did not have thrones -- they sat on carpets. But the facades of the buildings were completely covered with Arabic characters and designs in plaster. If you looked closely, it was amazing how many actual words were written and apparently, these form poems and phrases, welcoming visitors and describing parables.
We moved on to one of the most famous parts of The Palace where foreign visitors would enter to meet with The Sultan. Here a long pool reflected the imposing arches of the entryway. Once inside, the entire tower was again covered with Arabic figures and detail which at one point were painted in reds, blues, and greens. The ceiling was a marvel too, made of dark wood with a spiral design of stars and planets to represent the seven levels of heaven. I am sure that back at the peak of the Muslim Empire with the floor covered in carpets and the brilliant mosaics shining above the water, the palace must have been spectacular. It still is.
I know that describing a place to someone via a blog is perhaps boring for some of you, dear readers. However, if you never see The Alhambra, I feel it is a duty of mine to describe it to you. Seriously, it should be one of the seven wonders of the world, even if it is missing some color...
Sunday, September 20, 2009
La Mezquita
First off, let me apologize for being so remiss in my duties as to not update this blog on Wednesday. But, honestly, I really didn't have that much to write about. Now that I am really starting to settle in here, life is becoming quite a bit more routine. Well, other than the fact that I'm in Spain. In the interest of keeping things short and sweet, I will attempt to give a brief run-down for the week and of course, I will be adding some pictures as soon as my internet connection get its act together.
On Tuesday, I met up with my intercambio partner again. She had friends visiting from Seville so we wandered around the city. The best part was eating piononos (small, custardy tarts that the Granada area is famous for) while watching the surrounding city celebrate the Virgin of Anguish. Basically every city in Spain has a saint and every saint has a day. On the 15 of September, La Virgen de Angustias got special treatment. People lined up for hours to decorate the front of the church with flowers, and planes actually flew overhead and sprinkled flowers on the esplanade near the church. It was quite a sight.
Then on Wednesday I actually went to eat lunch with my intercambio partner and her family. It was a lot of fun and I was really surprised with how much of the conversation I could understand. As far as the food goes, it incorporated all of my favorite ingredients: a salad with olives, corn, tomatoes; a baguette; french fries; ham; and fried eggs. Oh yeah, sounds super healthy right? And for dessert? A lovely watermelon. It was definitely nice to get out of my usual routine and my intercambio partner is very fun to hang out with. Plus, I got to speak and listen to a lot of Spanish. And then Wednesday night it was time to go dancing with my American friends! At a nearby discotech, international students got in for free, so we boogied on the dance floor for an hour or two to American music of course (it's frustrating because they don't play much else here!) before calling it a night. Not bad for the hump day of the week.
On Thursday, a large group of us went out for Chinese food (random I know, but I'd been craving it). It was delicious and cheap which is always good. Afterward, our group headed to Hannigan's for Karaoke. Now I know what you all are thinking: Why would Jenny be going to sing American songs at an Irish pub in Spain? Well, basically because it was one of the most fun nights I have had here! The place was packed and I have to say my rendition of RESPECT by Aretha Franklin was well-received. Of course, "American Pie" and the Spice Girls also were big crowd pleasers. As much as I would like to go every week, I have decided to adhere to the philosophy that some things are great because they happen just once or a few times so I think I will have to leave Hannigan's again for another month.
Fasting forward through Friday (went to the botellon and then dancing with the girls -- nothing much to report. It was fun but not incredible or anything) and Saturday (I didn't do much and went to bed at about 11), we arrive at today. As part of our program, our group went to Cordoba (accent on the first "o" mind you. It is not CorDOba) to see the ancient Mezquita and to partake in two deliciously relaxing hours in the Arab baths.
After driving through the countryside littered with olive groves and the occasional small town dominated overhead by an impressive castle, we arrived at the Guadilquivir River. It is the first real river I have yet seen here in Spain. The water was muddy and shallow but nevertheless, I was impressed. Crossing the bridge, we came to the old town and the Jewish Quarter. At first, we had some free time so I headed to the Alcazar or Castle built by the Christian conquerors in the 13th century. The gardens were absolutely amazing and I felt for a bit like I was in Alice in Wonderland. Long pools filled with carp, flowers, and well groomed hedges and statues lined the walkways. Once inside the ramparts I couldn't help but be reminded by Edgar Allen Poe's "The Pit and the Pendulum." Something tells me The Inquisition made good use of the place.
Then our group partook in the Arab baths. Of course the building was a replica but that did not take away from the experience. Basically in an Arab bath there are three baths and a turkish sauna and you rotate between them. The first is the lukewarm pool, then the hot pools/ sauna, and lastly the cold water. Then to top things off, we received a 15 minute massage. Needless to say, I think I chose the right study abroad program for me.
Then we took a tour of the Mezquita. There are really no words to describe the place."Incredible" just does not do it justice. It was first built by the Caliphate of Cordoba in the 10th century and then added on to by other Arab rulers and later, by the Catholic Church. The whole of the building is filled with arches built of brick and rock and the walls and ceilings are decorated with intricately carved designs typical of moorish architecture. What really becomes interesting are the Christian additions to the building. Between the arches, there are richly painted murals depicting scenes from the bible and right smack dab in the middle of temple is a Catholic Cathedral. It was all beautiful separately, but together, some things felt a little out of place.
On Tuesday, I met up with my intercambio partner again. She had friends visiting from Seville so we wandered around the city. The best part was eating piononos (small, custardy tarts that the Granada area is famous for) while watching the surrounding city celebrate the Virgin of Anguish. Basically every city in Spain has a saint and every saint has a day. On the 15 of September, La Virgen de Angustias got special treatment. People lined up for hours to decorate the front of the church with flowers, and planes actually flew overhead and sprinkled flowers on the esplanade near the church. It was quite a sight.
Then on Wednesday I actually went to eat lunch with my intercambio partner and her family. It was a lot of fun and I was really surprised with how much of the conversation I could understand. As far as the food goes, it incorporated all of my favorite ingredients: a salad with olives, corn, tomatoes; a baguette; french fries; ham; and fried eggs. Oh yeah, sounds super healthy right? And for dessert? A lovely watermelon. It was definitely nice to get out of my usual routine and my intercambio partner is very fun to hang out with. Plus, I got to speak and listen to a lot of Spanish. And then Wednesday night it was time to go dancing with my American friends! At a nearby discotech, international students got in for free, so we boogied on the dance floor for an hour or two to American music of course (it's frustrating because they don't play much else here!) before calling it a night. Not bad for the hump day of the week.
On Thursday, a large group of us went out for Chinese food (random I know, but I'd been craving it). It was delicious and cheap which is always good. Afterward, our group headed to Hannigan's for Karaoke. Now I know what you all are thinking: Why would Jenny be going to sing American songs at an Irish pub in Spain? Well, basically because it was one of the most fun nights I have had here! The place was packed and I have to say my rendition of RESPECT by Aretha Franklin was well-received. Of course, "American Pie" and the Spice Girls also were big crowd pleasers. As much as I would like to go every week, I have decided to adhere to the philosophy that some things are great because they happen just once or a few times so I think I will have to leave Hannigan's again for another month.
Fasting forward through Friday (went to the botellon and then dancing with the girls -- nothing much to report. It was fun but not incredible or anything) and Saturday (I didn't do much and went to bed at about 11), we arrive at today. As part of our program, our group went to Cordoba (accent on the first "o" mind you. It is not CorDOba) to see the ancient Mezquita and to partake in two deliciously relaxing hours in the Arab baths.
After driving through the countryside littered with olive groves and the occasional small town dominated overhead by an impressive castle, we arrived at the Guadilquivir River. It is the first real river I have yet seen here in Spain. The water was muddy and shallow but nevertheless, I was impressed. Crossing the bridge, we came to the old town and the Jewish Quarter. At first, we had some free time so I headed to the Alcazar or Castle built by the Christian conquerors in the 13th century. The gardens were absolutely amazing and I felt for a bit like I was in Alice in Wonderland. Long pools filled with carp, flowers, and well groomed hedges and statues lined the walkways. Once inside the ramparts I couldn't help but be reminded by Edgar Allen Poe's "The Pit and the Pendulum." Something tells me The Inquisition made good use of the place.
Then our group partook in the Arab baths. Of course the building was a replica but that did not take away from the experience. Basically in an Arab bath there are three baths and a turkish sauna and you rotate between them. The first is the lukewarm pool, then the hot pools/ sauna, and lastly the cold water. Then to top things off, we received a 15 minute massage. Needless to say, I think I chose the right study abroad program for me.
Then we took a tour of the Mezquita. There are really no words to describe the place."Incredible" just does not do it justice. It was first built by the Caliphate of Cordoba in the 10th century and then added on to by other Arab rulers and later, by the Catholic Church. The whole of the building is filled with arches built of brick and rock and the walls and ceilings are decorated with intricately carved designs typical of moorish architecture. What really becomes interesting are the Christian additions to the building. Between the arches, there are richly painted murals depicting scenes from the bible and right smack dab in the middle of temple is a Catholic Cathedral. It was all beautiful separately, but together, some things felt a little out of place.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Que Guay
Another weekend has come and gone in Granada, and with it, any possibility of sleep for me. This weekend started out on Thursday night with the 21st birthday of one of the students on our program. To celebrate, almost 20 people from the program went to the botellon. To understand the botellon, you must first be aware that 1) it is expensive to go out to bars all the time, and 2) There are tens of thousands of students in Granada. So basically the botellon is a large park in which it is legal to drink outside of restaurants and bars. And since a bottle of wine can be found at the Mercadona for .78 euro cents, this is definitely the way to socialize and save money. I did not stay out for that long but it was an interesting experience nonetheless -- there are police monitoring it to make sure it's safe around the area and I am pretty sure I spotted some 11-12 year olds hanging around the vicinity. If this hadn't been Spain, I would have felt like asking "do your parents know you're here?" but as they say, no pasa nada.
After class on Friday, I took a nice long nap before meeting a few girls from our class for churros and chocolate which is about one of the most delicious creations known to mankind. Then we just wandered around until around 12, taking in the city sights and sounds before the weather starts to get cooler (rain in the forecast!). I love that I can be walking home at 12:30, feel absolutely safe, and have to dodge 80 year old couples still strolling around, long after any of their US counterparts would be asleep back in the states.
Saturday dawned rather too early, as I had to get to the bus station to hike in the Alpujarras, which is a region of the Sierra Nevada mountains. The ride was about 2 hours and I have never been on such a windy, curvy road in my life. I feel lucky that I managed to avoid any carsickness on the trip up and back. We (me and four other girls from my program) arrived in Pampaneira, a tiny whitewashed town perched in the mountains and above a river with the highest point in continental Spain, the Mulhacen, towering above. It could have been out of a fairy tale: narrow streets, all the houses bursting with flowers over the balconies, a tiny plaza and church serving as the town watering hole. Most of the towns in the mountains are within several kilometers of each other so we decided to leave Pampaneira behind and climb up to Capileira via Bubion. The man at the information desk told us the trail was well marked and gave us a map. However, after we had been walking for about 30 minutes, we felt like we were lost -- the trail had narrowed and we were scrambling over loose rocks above the canyon. We were also finding many abandoned houses made of stone, remnants of the silver and agriculture boom days. But we really did not want to turn back. So (Dad you'd be proud), we bushwhacked up the hill to the town of Bubion, finally reaching a parking lot where the trailhead to Capileira began. This time, we definitely were on the right trail and in the end, climbed about 2000 feet and hiked a good 6-7 miles. Needless to say, we were happy to arrive in Capileira. Once in town, we walked through deserted streets until we ended up at a small restaurant where the owner, an older man named Pepe, gave us free tapas and made delicious omelets. We also made friends with a local dog and two older men who were concerned we were not prepared for the weather as we waited for the bus. True, it had rained a bit, but it wasn't too terribly cold. All of this and the sheer beauty of the place definitely makes Capileira a place I would like to return or even retire to!
After a hot shower at home and dinner, I headed out once again to a music festival that was about a 30 minute walk from my house. It was very impressive, completely free, and well organized. On one side were vendors selling hamburgers, bocadillos and kebabs, as well as clothing and jewelry, and on the other side were all sorts of carnival rides. In a nearby field was a huge stage where artists were performing literally all night long. Unfortunately, while we were there, an older pair of men were playing English rock/ country (including "Bule Bule,") so I can't say it was completely a cultural experience. But it was a lot of fun and unfortunately I once again lost track of time and got home in the early morning.
Today the Vuelta a Espana came through Granada. Although this bike race isn't exactly as famous as the Tour de France, it definitely has quite a following and it was a lot of fun to take pictures of all the cyclists and try to figure out what the announcer was saying about all of them. Plus who could pass up free hats and lanyards? All in all, I would say a busy and great weekend. Now, time for a siesta.
After class on Friday, I took a nice long nap before meeting a few girls from our class for churros and chocolate which is about one of the most delicious creations known to mankind. Then we just wandered around until around 12, taking in the city sights and sounds before the weather starts to get cooler (rain in the forecast!). I love that I can be walking home at 12:30, feel absolutely safe, and have to dodge 80 year old couples still strolling around, long after any of their US counterparts would be asleep back in the states.
Saturday dawned rather too early, as I had to get to the bus station to hike in the Alpujarras, which is a region of the Sierra Nevada mountains. The ride was about 2 hours and I have never been on such a windy, curvy road in my life. I feel lucky that I managed to avoid any carsickness on the trip up and back. We (me and four other girls from my program) arrived in Pampaneira, a tiny whitewashed town perched in the mountains and above a river with the highest point in continental Spain, the Mulhacen, towering above. It could have been out of a fairy tale: narrow streets, all the houses bursting with flowers over the balconies, a tiny plaza and church serving as the town watering hole. Most of the towns in the mountains are within several kilometers of each other so we decided to leave Pampaneira behind and climb up to Capileira via Bubion. The man at the information desk told us the trail was well marked and gave us a map. However, after we had been walking for about 30 minutes, we felt like we were lost -- the trail had narrowed and we were scrambling over loose rocks above the canyon. We were also finding many abandoned houses made of stone, remnants of the silver and agriculture boom days. But we really did not want to turn back. So (Dad you'd be proud), we bushwhacked up the hill to the town of Bubion, finally reaching a parking lot where the trailhead to Capileira began. This time, we definitely were on the right trail and in the end, climbed about 2000 feet and hiked a good 6-7 miles. Needless to say, we were happy to arrive in Capileira. Once in town, we walked through deserted streets until we ended up at a small restaurant where the owner, an older man named Pepe, gave us free tapas and made delicious omelets. We also made friends with a local dog and two older men who were concerned we were not prepared for the weather as we waited for the bus. True, it had rained a bit, but it wasn't too terribly cold. All of this and the sheer beauty of the place definitely makes Capileira a place I would like to return or even retire to!
After a hot shower at home and dinner, I headed out once again to a music festival that was about a 30 minute walk from my house. It was very impressive, completely free, and well organized. On one side were vendors selling hamburgers, bocadillos and kebabs, as well as clothing and jewelry, and on the other side were all sorts of carnival rides. In a nearby field was a huge stage where artists were performing literally all night long. Unfortunately, while we were there, an older pair of men were playing English rock/ country (including "Bule Bule,") so I can't say it was completely a cultural experience. But it was a lot of fun and unfortunately I once again lost track of time and got home in the early morning.
Today the Vuelta a Espana came through Granada. Although this bike race isn't exactly as famous as the Tour de France, it definitely has quite a following and it was a lot of fun to take pictures of all the cyclists and try to figure out what the announcer was saying about all of them. Plus who could pass up free hats and lanyards? All in all, I would say a busy and great weekend. Now, time for a siesta.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
La Comida y Las Bebidas
I am feeling a little more optimistic after my last post, especially since I met my intercambio language partner (basically a Spanish student who I hang out with and we spend half our time talking in English and half our time talking in Spanish) who is very nice and a lot of fun to talk to. However, I would prefer to spend a larger part of this post addressing that which I know most of you have been waiting for with abetted breath: food and drink in Spain.
As you well know, lunch is sacred here and breakfast and dinner are little more than afterthoughts. Of course, my homestay may be different because my roommate and I basically have free range of the kitchen for breakfast and dinner instead of having my mom make dinner for us, so my usual breakfast is cereal and my usual dinner is yogurt, cheese, a croissant or something like that. And I am learning to like black coffee (with milk of course). Though there is a specialty coffee shop called "Starbars" near campus, for the most part, it's hard to find anything fancier than an espresso.
As for lunch, you would be surprised by the variety. For example, on Sunday we had paella which is rice, some vegetables and shrimp seasoned with saffron. However yesterday, we had roasted chicken and french fries. I am definitely a fan of my host mom's lentil soup with sausage and the quintessential Spanish tortilla which is basically like a quiche with just egg and potato. At every lunch, we always have a salad of iceberg lettuce and tomato smothered in olive oil and balsamic vinegar and a baguette of some sort. Water is the lunchtime beverage. Dessert is usually a piece of fruit or yogurt or cheese. As a whole, I feel like vegetables are not an important part of the Spanish diet.
Outside of the house, tapas are definitely the way to go. I usually order a tinto de verano which is red wine, club soda, and lemon juice and with that come tapas. Of course, if you don't care about being labeled a guiri (the word for foreigner or gringo here), you can go for the sangria. Alhambra beer and red wine is also acceptable as is manzanilla, a sweeter, crisper white wine I had the other day. And if you want soda, the only choice is Coca-cola... or maybe a Fanta -- no Pepsi in sight. Most of these drinks cost between 2-3 euros which, at least in Granada, comes with tapas or small plates of food for free. A word about the beer -- I am not a beer drinker by nature so I usually order wine but let's just say that outside of the weak local beer, there's Guinness and Hefeweizen (sorry Dad and Uncle Paul).
Tapas are an art. You learn early on which places are good (I had a bocadilla with ham, cheese, and olive oil that was amazing and a plate of mussels at one place) and which places are disappointing (a plate of olives hardly counts). There were even tiny hamburgers on the menu along with anchovies, calamari, and tuna. And of course after that tapa, you need ice cream. There has to be one gelato shop for every two people in this city and the same with pastry shops. I think I have eaten gelato here almost every day since I arrived and I still haven't returned to the same place twice.
Thus, you can see where all that hard earned money of mine is really going. If you know me you know I have trouble practicing self-control when it comes to food... and here's not the place to start.
As you well know, lunch is sacred here and breakfast and dinner are little more than afterthoughts. Of course, my homestay may be different because my roommate and I basically have free range of the kitchen for breakfast and dinner instead of having my mom make dinner for us, so my usual breakfast is cereal and my usual dinner is yogurt, cheese, a croissant or something like that. And I am learning to like black coffee (with milk of course). Though there is a specialty coffee shop called "Starbars" near campus, for the most part, it's hard to find anything fancier than an espresso.
As for lunch, you would be surprised by the variety. For example, on Sunday we had paella which is rice, some vegetables and shrimp seasoned with saffron. However yesterday, we had roasted chicken and french fries. I am definitely a fan of my host mom's lentil soup with sausage and the quintessential Spanish tortilla which is basically like a quiche with just egg and potato. At every lunch, we always have a salad of iceberg lettuce and tomato smothered in olive oil and balsamic vinegar and a baguette of some sort. Water is the lunchtime beverage. Dessert is usually a piece of fruit or yogurt or cheese. As a whole, I feel like vegetables are not an important part of the Spanish diet.
Outside of the house, tapas are definitely the way to go. I usually order a tinto de verano which is red wine, club soda, and lemon juice and with that come tapas. Of course, if you don't care about being labeled a guiri (the word for foreigner or gringo here), you can go for the sangria. Alhambra beer and red wine is also acceptable as is manzanilla, a sweeter, crisper white wine I had the other day. And if you want soda, the only choice is Coca-cola... or maybe a Fanta -- no Pepsi in sight. Most of these drinks cost between 2-3 euros which, at least in Granada, comes with tapas or small plates of food for free. A word about the beer -- I am not a beer drinker by nature so I usually order wine but let's just say that outside of the weak local beer, there's Guinness and Hefeweizen (sorry Dad and Uncle Paul).
Tapas are an art. You learn early on which places are good (I had a bocadilla with ham, cheese, and olive oil that was amazing and a plate of mussels at one place) and which places are disappointing (a plate of olives hardly counts). There were even tiny hamburgers on the menu along with anchovies, calamari, and tuna. And of course after that tapa, you need ice cream. There has to be one gelato shop for every two people in this city and the same with pastry shops. I think I have eaten gelato here almost every day since I arrived and I still haven't returned to the same place twice.
Thus, you can see where all that hard earned money of mine is really going. If you know me you know I have trouble practicing self-control when it comes to food... and here's not the place to start.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Los Echo de Menos
For me, Sundays have always been a kind of day for reflection because usually they're the day when I am the least busy. So today, my first lazy weekend day spent in Granada, I am feeling a little homesick. Maybe it's just because I'm tired or because it is actually raining in Oregon, but I really really just want to be home now, relaxing and watching the Travel Channel. Things always seem better and more exciting when someone else is doing them. Traveling, or I guess in my case, living abroad, is plain tiring, especially once the novelty wears off.
At the same time, I feel like I haven't been taking full advantage of this experience. Sure I've already seen a lot in Andalucia, but the day to day living is what's not exactly turning out to be like I planned. For one, it's really hard to speak Spanish all the time with American students here. We either forget we're supposed to be speaking it at all or it's really hard to get to know people through their various levels of Spanish ability. Furthermore I have yet to meet any actual Spaniards apart from my teachers and host family. Sure I've gone into stores or restaurants and spoken to them but I want to make Spanish friends which is also proving hard since I'm only taking classes with American students.
I guess I'm just past the so-called "honeymoon" stage of studying abroad. I'm not really sure what I should be doing differently but as they say, something's got to give. Or maybe I should just lower my expectations. When I told people I was coming to Spain they always said it sounded amazing. Yeah, it is, but at the same time, it's like living anywhere else. And it's still not home.
At the same time, I feel like I haven't been taking full advantage of this experience. Sure I've already seen a lot in Andalucia, but the day to day living is what's not exactly turning out to be like I planned. For one, it's really hard to speak Spanish all the time with American students here. We either forget we're supposed to be speaking it at all or it's really hard to get to know people through their various levels of Spanish ability. Furthermore I have yet to meet any actual Spaniards apart from my teachers and host family. Sure I've gone into stores or restaurants and spoken to them but I want to make Spanish friends which is also proving hard since I'm only taking classes with American students.
I guess I'm just past the so-called "honeymoon" stage of studying abroad. I'm not really sure what I should be doing differently but as they say, something's got to give. Or maybe I should just lower my expectations. When I told people I was coming to Spain they always said it sounded amazing. Yeah, it is, but at the same time, it's like living anywhere else. And it's still not home.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
La Vida Diaria
First of all, can I just say thanks everyone for reading and commenting? Emily and Zach-- how the heck are you? Katie, haha I'm not going to try the oven thing. And Dad, hey you want to know the truth, right?
So I have started to settle into a sort of schedule and though it may sound boring, it's definitely nice to have a sense of normalcy. I have 4 hours of intensive Spanish classes every day, from 9AM-1PM which I'm actually enjoying because then I don't have to walk to school in the heat of the morning. The walk to school is about 30 minutes and we're even starting to recognize the same people. One of my favorite cafes, Cafe Futbol which has the best churros and chocolate in the city, is beginning to become a familiar place. There's even one waiter that recognizes us by sight when we walk by and says "buenos dias" every day. Then it's home again for lunch, a siesta, some facebook or homework time, maybe even a telenovela or two. My culture class usually starts at 5 or 6 in the afternoon after which we will take our time walking back or do a little window shopping on the way home. Dinner is generally tiny (and similar to breakfast) and at around 10 PM.
I'm still sure I'm going to get hit by a car or run over by a moped. There is no way they should be able to fit down those streets but somehow, they manage. I've learned to suck in my stomach to avoid those rear-view mirrors. Jaywalking is also a studied art here as you never know when someone will run a light or when exactly that red light means stop. This may seem somewhat risky but it's either that or stand out in the sunshine longer than necessary and at least cars are good about stopping for pedestrians. I'm also learning to seek out shady areas of sidewalks and streets, darting from side to side of the street like a lizard. In other words, I'm feeling more and more like a local.
Night has become my favorite time of day to walk around since between 9-12 everyone is out on the streets, buying ice cream or just sitting in the plazas. I've decided that if I could choose, I would like to be an old Spanish man in Granada. Let me explain. Everywhere you go, there are old men with canes and hats and dressed to the 9s, sitting in the plazas watching people pass by or talking fervently with the bar owners after the main lights of the bars have been shut off and everyone has gone home for the night. They're never in a hurry, will tip their hat to you on your walk by and seem to be great friends with every other old man living in Granada.
As for Spaniards in general, they are definitely talkative and open, although direct as a whole. They love to talk about what they love about Spain but they are also ready to be critical of the country as well. They take their time walking and almost never say "excuse me" when they brush into you on the street. Despite warnings from friends that all Europeans like to talk to you in English, I'm finding that most Andalucians are content to have me muddle through with my Spanish and they will respond to me in Spanish at least. And yes, I have to wear shoes around the house...
So I have started to settle into a sort of schedule and though it may sound boring, it's definitely nice to have a sense of normalcy. I have 4 hours of intensive Spanish classes every day, from 9AM-1PM which I'm actually enjoying because then I don't have to walk to school in the heat of the morning. The walk to school is about 30 minutes and we're even starting to recognize the same people. One of my favorite cafes, Cafe Futbol which has the best churros and chocolate in the city, is beginning to become a familiar place. There's even one waiter that recognizes us by sight when we walk by and says "buenos dias" every day. Then it's home again for lunch, a siesta, some facebook or homework time, maybe even a telenovela or two. My culture class usually starts at 5 or 6 in the afternoon after which we will take our time walking back or do a little window shopping on the way home. Dinner is generally tiny (and similar to breakfast) and at around 10 PM.
I'm still sure I'm going to get hit by a car or run over by a moped. There is no way they should be able to fit down those streets but somehow, they manage. I've learned to suck in my stomach to avoid those rear-view mirrors. Jaywalking is also a studied art here as you never know when someone will run a light or when exactly that red light means stop. This may seem somewhat risky but it's either that or stand out in the sunshine longer than necessary and at least cars are good about stopping for pedestrians. I'm also learning to seek out shady areas of sidewalks and streets, darting from side to side of the street like a lizard. In other words, I'm feeling more and more like a local.
Night has become my favorite time of day to walk around since between 9-12 everyone is out on the streets, buying ice cream or just sitting in the plazas. I've decided that if I could choose, I would like to be an old Spanish man in Granada. Let me explain. Everywhere you go, there are old men with canes and hats and dressed to the 9s, sitting in the plazas watching people pass by or talking fervently with the bar owners after the main lights of the bars have been shut off and everyone has gone home for the night. They're never in a hurry, will tip their hat to you on your walk by and seem to be great friends with every other old man living in Granada.
As for Spaniards in general, they are definitely talkative and open, although direct as a whole. They love to talk about what they love about Spain but they are also ready to be critical of the country as well. They take their time walking and almost never say "excuse me" when they brush into you on the street. Despite warnings from friends that all Europeans like to talk to you in English, I'm finding that most Andalucians are content to have me muddle through with my Spanish and they will respond to me in Spanish at least. And yes, I have to wear shoes around the house...
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
La enfermedad
Well after only 2 days in the country, I ended up with a sore throat and a bit of a fever. Part of the problem is that it gets so hot here during the day that the bedrooms don't really cool down that much at night. Anyway so on Thursday night, I had taken some cold/ flu medicine and planned on going to bed early. Except I couldn't stop sweating and I don't think I have ever felt so hot in my whole entire life. Trying not to be the whining, annoying American, I was all prepared to tough it out. Until I started thinking about swine flu. In my feverish state I was convinced I had swine flu and had a high fever and would therefore die and/or suffer brain damage. Suffice it to say, I was a little delirious. So I finally asked my host mom to take my temperature and told her what I was afraid of. She just laughed and offered me some water and yogurt or food when it turned out I had a temp of 37 degrees celsius. So basically, I was going to pull through.
Anyway, the rest of the week passed without any problems other than the heat and my seemingly super effective cooling system (I sweat a lot here). Friday night we went out for some early tapas and sangria before going to bed since we had an early day in Ronda planned for Saturday. Ronda is an amazing city perched over a precipice, with an old bullfighting ring, whitewashed houses, and amazing gardens. The most interesting part was learning about bullfighting which most Spaniards are actually rather conflicted about. I mean, it really is an art form but at the same time brutal. We learned that the bulls used live in complete freedom for 5 years and are well taken care of. And if a matador thinks that they are of good quality, he can actually stop the fight and petition to save the bull for breeding purposes. The reason why the bull is killed is because they are so smart, that if they were around longer than 20 minutes, they would figure out the matador's movements and could kill them instead. Still though, it will be interesting once we actually get to see a real bullfight in Sevilla. I'm not sure how I'll feel about it.
All of this we learned on our long tour, and we had plenty of time to appreciate all the beauty of Ronda. Seriously, I could see myself living there. Unfortunately I am becoming rather good at embracing this whole Spanish sense of relaxation. So instead of spending our free afternoon wandering around and visiting museums and other points of historical interest, I took a nap in the park. Then I went and spent two hours sitting with some of the other students at a cafe. Oh well, as they say here, no pasa nada.
On Saturday night it was finally time for us to go out and explore. I am coming to realize that most of my money here will be spent on drinks: either water or alcohol. It is much cheaper to drink a glass of wine than basically anything else here but still adds up. After checking out a few bars, we decided to go dancing for a little bit before calling it a night. Even though it was 1 AM, the place was completely empty! I was coming to find out that nights don't really actually start here until early morning.
Today was the day for the beach, which was an hour's bus ride south to a small Mediterranean town called Salobrena. Basically the Mediterranean was everything I expected it to be: beautiful, warm, clear, salty and crowded. It was amazing how buoyant I was and I literally just floated in the water for most of the day, only pausing for a bocadillo of ham, tomatoes, olive oil and cheese and to drink some more water. It is amazing how the Spanish sense of having a good time transfers to the beach -- everyone was there, from topless sunbathing grandmas to tiny tots, jetsetting yacht owners to vendors from Africa selling sunglasses. Needless to say, coming back to my homework was a disappointment.
Oh yeah, and as to my flu: I feel fine. Other than losing my voice yesterday, getting a red sunburn on my back today, and feeling really tired, I'm fit and in fighting shape. I miss you all!
Jenny
Anyway, the rest of the week passed without any problems other than the heat and my seemingly super effective cooling system (I sweat a lot here). Friday night we went out for some early tapas and sangria before going to bed since we had an early day in Ronda planned for Saturday. Ronda is an amazing city perched over a precipice, with an old bullfighting ring, whitewashed houses, and amazing gardens. The most interesting part was learning about bullfighting which most Spaniards are actually rather conflicted about. I mean, it really is an art form but at the same time brutal. We learned that the bulls used live in complete freedom for 5 years and are well taken care of. And if a matador thinks that they are of good quality, he can actually stop the fight and petition to save the bull for breeding purposes. The reason why the bull is killed is because they are so smart, that if they were around longer than 20 minutes, they would figure out the matador's movements and could kill them instead. Still though, it will be interesting once we actually get to see a real bullfight in Sevilla. I'm not sure how I'll feel about it.
All of this we learned on our long tour, and we had plenty of time to appreciate all the beauty of Ronda. Seriously, I could see myself living there. Unfortunately I am becoming rather good at embracing this whole Spanish sense of relaxation. So instead of spending our free afternoon wandering around and visiting museums and other points of historical interest, I took a nap in the park. Then I went and spent two hours sitting with some of the other students at a cafe. Oh well, as they say here, no pasa nada.
On Saturday night it was finally time for us to go out and explore. I am coming to realize that most of my money here will be spent on drinks: either water or alcohol. It is much cheaper to drink a glass of wine than basically anything else here but still adds up. After checking out a few bars, we decided to go dancing for a little bit before calling it a night. Even though it was 1 AM, the place was completely empty! I was coming to find out that nights don't really actually start here until early morning.
Today was the day for the beach, which was an hour's bus ride south to a small Mediterranean town called Salobrena. Basically the Mediterranean was everything I expected it to be: beautiful, warm, clear, salty and crowded. It was amazing how buoyant I was and I literally just floated in the water for most of the day, only pausing for a bocadillo of ham, tomatoes, olive oil and cheese and to drink some more water. It is amazing how the Spanish sense of having a good time transfers to the beach -- everyone was there, from topless sunbathing grandmas to tiny tots, jetsetting yacht owners to vendors from Africa selling sunglasses. Needless to say, coming back to my homework was a disappointment.
Oh yeah, and as to my flu: I feel fine. Other than losing my voice yesterday, getting a red sunburn on my back today, and feeling really tired, I'm fit and in fighting shape. I miss you all!
Jenny
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Al Principio
After more than 30 sleepless hours spent in planes or in airports, I finally managed to make it to Granada in one piece. I have to say that I was quite proud of the way I used my Spanish once we got to Madrid but that was short-lived. On my way through security there I forgot to take out my laptop from my backpack. So, the man working at the computer asked me to remove it to rescan the thing. Unfortunately, here they're called "ordenadors" and not "computadoras" so I just kept thinking he was telling me how I should order/ organize the stuff in my backpack. With that one miscommunication under my belt, I stayed fairly quiet in the cab ride from the airport, hoping against all hope that my taxi driver actually would know where to drop me off and how I should enter the house. Since I had just been given a name, address and phone number, I had no clue. And here, everyone lives in apartment buildings with gates, locks, and weird numbering. So, the taxi driver ended up calling my host mom twice to figure out how to get in. But, finally, after lugging my two suitcases to the second floor (with the help of my roommate from Seattle), I arrived.
My host mom, Nati, was waiting with her daughter and granddaughter for us. Judging by the number of Portland, Oregon magnets on her refrigerator and Oregon cookbooks, I'd say she's hosted quite a few exchange students before. Nati is talkative, super nice, and fairly easy to understand. Needless to say though, the next few hours spent unpacking, talking with Nati, playing with her granddaughter Lola, and trying to understand Spanish game shows (a cross between Who Wants to be a Millionaire, Password, and Wheel of Fortune), I was so exhausted who knows what I said in Spanish. Probably the highlight of my day was finding out that cereal is eaten here and that the last week at home I spent hoarding Cinnamon Toast Crunch was unnecessary, but in hindsight still well worth it.
This morning after a breakfast of yogurt and croissants with cheese we headed off to our school. It's about a 15 minute walk if we don't get lost which is nice. Basically Granada looks exactly like a Spanish city should: lots of shaded plazas and cafes, tree-lined broader streets bustling with people, and tiny narrow alleys in which you are lucky to avoid approaching cars and the walls of the stucco buildings at the same time. At around 3, it was time to return home for a lunch of ham (which I just typed with a "j"...looks like my Spanish is already getting better), pasta, salad,and bread and a much needed siesta which brings me to about right now. I did say I would try to post every Wednesday, didn't I? Anyway this evening, a small group of us are meeting up for our homework which is basically a walking tour of the nearby neighborhood. Even though Granada is a fairly safe city,after all the warnings we got in class,I'm thinking that my main goal should be avoiding being robbed. Sounds good, right?
My host mom, Nati, was waiting with her daughter and granddaughter for us. Judging by the number of Portland, Oregon magnets on her refrigerator and Oregon cookbooks, I'd say she's hosted quite a few exchange students before. Nati is talkative, super nice, and fairly easy to understand. Needless to say though, the next few hours spent unpacking, talking with Nati, playing with her granddaughter Lola, and trying to understand Spanish game shows (a cross between Who Wants to be a Millionaire, Password, and Wheel of Fortune), I was so exhausted who knows what I said in Spanish. Probably the highlight of my day was finding out that cereal is eaten here and that the last week at home I spent hoarding Cinnamon Toast Crunch was unnecessary, but in hindsight still well worth it.
This morning after a breakfast of yogurt and croissants with cheese we headed off to our school. It's about a 15 minute walk if we don't get lost which is nice. Basically Granada looks exactly like a Spanish city should: lots of shaded plazas and cafes, tree-lined broader streets bustling with people, and tiny narrow alleys in which you are lucky to avoid approaching cars and the walls of the stucco buildings at the same time. At around 3, it was time to return home for a lunch of ham (which I just typed with a "j"...looks like my Spanish is already getting better), pasta, salad,and bread and a much needed siesta which brings me to about right now. I did say I would try to post every Wednesday, didn't I? Anyway this evening, a small group of us are meeting up for our homework which is basically a walking tour of the nearby neighborhood. Even though Granada is a fairly safe city,after all the warnings we got in class,I'm thinking that my main goal should be avoiding being robbed. Sounds good, right?
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Preparation
I hate packing. There's just something so demeaning about cramming basically all your important personal possessions into a tiny cramped bag, not to mention the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that you've forgotten something important or that you are entirely too superficial and that no one should bring this much stuff with them to the airport. What will my host family think when I show up on their doorstep weighed down by luggage? Worse still, what will security think? Obviously I'm having a little trouble figuring out what's important for this trip. Thus, my dilemma was how to pack for 4 months in Spain. It'll be hot but it will rain; I will mostly be living in Granada, however I plan to travel around a little too. So four days, a messy room, and some cramming, cursing, and crushing later, I am packed -- two suitcases and a backpack. Please don't judge....
Anyway as far as the trip itself is concerned, I am ready. I've been ready. Hell, I've been planning for this experience since I was a sophomore in High School. Being around Willamette's campus this summer has made me a little nostalgic for missing out on fall semester but I have to say that I am perfectly okay with not seeing the bright-eyed freshmen, eating at Goudy (except for Dee Dee's sandwiches), and yes, even working/ studying (if that's what you can call it) at the library. So, with that, welcome to my blog. I will only promise that I will try my best to write about life in Spain and I will try to write regularly (maybe a post by every Wed/ Sun kind of thing). Please leave me comments, complaints, concerns; whatever you feel like. Knowing that someone is actually reading this will make writing much much easier. Hasta prontisimo!
Anyway as far as the trip itself is concerned, I am ready. I've been ready. Hell, I've been planning for this experience since I was a sophomore in High School. Being around Willamette's campus this summer has made me a little nostalgic for missing out on fall semester but I have to say that I am perfectly okay with not seeing the bright-eyed freshmen, eating at Goudy (except for Dee Dee's sandwiches), and yes, even working/ studying (if that's what you can call it) at the library. So, with that, welcome to my blog. I will only promise that I will try my best to write about life in Spain and I will try to write regularly (maybe a post by every Wed/ Sun kind of thing). Please leave me comments, complaints, concerns; whatever you feel like. Knowing that someone is actually reading this will make writing much much easier. Hasta prontisimo!
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