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!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
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......
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