I had a great, special experience this weekend. Jose-mi, a guy I had met the first time very briefly at a meeting for people wanting to do language exchanges (intercambios), invited me to his hometown. He did so we met for the first time since our first introduction. It was crazy how much faith he had put in me as a friend! He then invited me to his flat for lunch where I met his two roommates, one of which was his brother. We had hit it off well.
His Dad got us on Friday afternoon and we zipped into the mountains to the town of Benalup. After meeting his fantastic family, we went off around town. I met his uncle and grandma first, then his friends who we visited in a matter of minutes (small town). After that, we met his other uncle who was at a little bar having some drinks at the local bar. Then, home again for merienda (snack), some TV, some dinner, and out on the town we went. The whole place was tiny! It’s not like Naselle where everything is spread out, it is a compressed little community. That sort of structure makes centralization of public places easy and also attracts all the youngins to the same part of town. We gave the town a gander, stopped to see an old man that was either drunk or the village idiot. I felt bad since we were there for just a laugh. After deciding the streets were not full of fun, we called it a night. The next day was slow and uneventful. We went back out that night though, doing a little botellin. We went over to his friend’s place where I met a whole bunch of his friends. I was a little weirded out by the fact that I was the oldest one there, Jose-mi at 18 the oldest Spaniards, and the rest: 15, 16, and a couple 17. Regardless, we all talked and I was indeed the spectacle. All along the conversations were in Spanish - a huge help to my overall skills. We went out to the discoteca. I was amazed that there was even a club in the town. There I met tons more people there. It was packed and was evidence that every town in Spain, including Benalup, has a place for young people to dance and get drunk.
Sunday was lazy and after lunch we headed back to Cadiz. I had a great time just experiencing the small town life of a Spanish family. The family had a really strong bond that was admirable. It seems almost all Spanish families have that bond and I wish that it would spread throughout American society too. In Spain, as it did drastically in America and still does, the family is losing the traditional importance. But, it is more due to lack of marriage and divorce. The Spanish family continues to have huge weight.
There was little to do in Benalup but I enjoyed it. His dad is a worker for the state’s water potency division and was really intelligent. Talking to him and Jose-mi’s brother (who is 22) I realized that Jose-mi, despite being ridiculously nice, was not that interesting of a person. His family would call him “delicado” (delicate) since he didn’t like to try new things and had to very clean all the time. He was certainly a pretty boy. Also, he wasn’t that interesting. Any academic topic I brought up would lead to him not being interested and me talking a lot. Regardless, the experience was great and I have an open invite to come back whenever I’m back in the area.
domingo, 25 de noviembre de 2007
domingo, 11 de noviembre de 2007
11-08/11-07 Cáceres, Salamanca, Mérida
This weekend we again did a whole program excursion, but this one took us to a completely different part of Spain. We left Andalucia and header north to Extremadura and Castilla y Leon. Extremadura es a very rural region of Spain. It is one of the poorest consequently. Castilla la Mancha is a little more prosperous and has some relatively important cities within it. Since it is a little north and around an area of higher elevation and mountains, it was gonna be cold!
First stop was in the town of Cáceres, which was about halfway to our furthest destination Salamanca and in Extremadua. There we spent a few hours looking around the city. It is a quaint little medieval town that made me feel llke we were still in the middle ages. There wasn’t a whole bunch of historical junk to go wonder over but the city itself was good enough! We were there after midday, which meant during lunch/siesta time! In Cadiz it isn’t too big a deal and people are still usually, to an extent, out and about. Cáceres was DEAD! It was a good view of a small town’s sleepy daytime hour. After a little wandering, it was back to the bus to finish our last few hours of the 7/8-hour bus ride.
Salamanca was fantastic, for sure one of my favorite cities in Spain. It, like Granada, is a college town. The University of Salamanca, I believe, is the biggest in Spain (also laden with foreigners I hear). Our hotel was nothing special, but it did have some odd rules. No food or drink in the rooms (including alcohol!) as well as no one was allowed in a room unless they were actually staying in that room. We proceeded to break every rule, aside from the one previously unmentioned, putting out cigarettes on the floor. With no smokers it was hard to be the full sweep.
We went out that night in search of some dinner and found a little restaurant tucked down an alley called “Casa de las Murcillas”. Murcilla is a type of sausage that is amazingly tasty and this place had like 100 different kinds. Mike, John, and Jon were there with me and we had a fantastic meal of meat, potatoes, and bread. Very Spanish. If you’re wondering what exactly Murcilla is you can ask me, thought I recommend trying it first… As we headed out on the town we went to the center of the old part of town to Plaza Mayor. It was gorgeous, a huge square tucked in the center of the city and illuminated brilliantly. I can’t remember what exactly went down there, but the city hall was located there and at one point in history the Reyes Cristianos, Ferdinand and Isabel, hung out there. The city had a much cathedral as they all do, and since Salamanca was once a super important city it was especially nice. Generally the city was done up well. The roads were wide, the buildings a little better kept. It is most likely since it’s age of importance was much more recent than those of the medieval towns of Andalucia.
The Cathedral was very cool since it was there that they also held job interviews for those that wanted to work at the University of Salamanca. The U of Salamanca is the third oldest in Europe. There in one of the rooms of the Cathedral they would hold oral interviews, but were more or less tests of ability. Even all of the 30 or 40 people giving the interview did not approve, the applicant failed. They were normally very prestigious figures. If a new professor was approved, he was allowed to write his name on a wall of university (in bull’s blood) and then there were many days of fiesta following. If not, they were quietly let out the a back door since out the front the people were awaiting the news that would let them party for days.
Another university related story is that of the famous frog of Salamanca. On the wall of a certain building there is hidden a frog. It’s small, and it was said that those who found it would have good luck. Therefore, it became tradition for students to go find the frog before final exams. Previously, the superstition had been the opposite, saying bad luck would come to those who found the frog. Some students back in the day reversed the story and today it is no hard task to find the frog. All you have to do is use the numerous postcards with photos of it as a guide. The frog is on top of a skull, making it even more ominous.
That evening we went back out and bought baked goods at a convent where the nuns which comprised it were never allowed to leave the compound. It had very specific hours, amounts, and prices, but all the pastries were great! After that we headed over to a Roman Bridge, still standing from long long ago. There we experienced a taste of fall that made us all ridiculously nostalgic since it was very Seattle weather. We played in the leaves, strolled on the bridge, and I tackled Josh on the grass, dragging him around a little, grass-staining his pants. It was fantastic to see grass again! On the way back we hit up H&M, a low cost clothing store that has some good-looking clothes and occasional great deals. Then, we went to an all you can eat Chinese buffet. It was actually pretty damn good. Mike had been there for lunch but came to join us during dinner anyways. He ate a total of 6 heaping plates of Chinese goodness. That night we were out to the street again. We started with a bar where John and I met a few local girls. We spent most of the night with them and I were home at a decent hour (3/4 AM?).
On Saturday morning Josh and I headed out early so we could hit up a couple last sites. We found a museum of modern art-deco which had some cool pieces (abinacos, statues, stain glass) and some rather ridiculous things (LOTS of dolls). We then stumbled upon a free museum that the government was sponsoring about the presence of the Stone Masons in Spain. The mason secret society was extensive and there is evidence of it even in Salamanca.
Mérida was also great fun. There were many roman ruins such as a fort, bridge, aqueduct, theater, and amphitheater. All were fantastic, especially the bridge which is the longest roman bridge in Spain and maybe also the world. A highlight was walking around seeing the quaint city and how much quieter it was than Cadiz. For lunch Sunday we went to a well know Italian restaurant and had some fantastic food. It was pretty damn authentic and a great way to end the trip.
I had a lot of thoughts going through my mind that trip about my image to others and whether I really cared what others thought about me. I realize that I need to be me a little more and that others will think what they may regardless. Most will eventually adapt to me, and those who cannot I don’t need to associate with. I’ll make concessions as well, as in any healthy relationship, but there should be a balance. I am a pleaser, but I don’t need to have everyone on my side. By standing with my own opinions (as soon as I figure them out) I’ll be more confident and in the end much happier.
First stop was in the town of Cáceres, which was about halfway to our furthest destination Salamanca and in Extremadua. There we spent a few hours looking around the city. It is a quaint little medieval town that made me feel llke we were still in the middle ages. There wasn’t a whole bunch of historical junk to go wonder over but the city itself was good enough! We were there after midday, which meant during lunch/siesta time! In Cadiz it isn’t too big a deal and people are still usually, to an extent, out and about. Cáceres was DEAD! It was a good view of a small town’s sleepy daytime hour. After a little wandering, it was back to the bus to finish our last few hours of the 7/8-hour bus ride.
Salamanca was fantastic, for sure one of my favorite cities in Spain. It, like Granada, is a college town. The University of Salamanca, I believe, is the biggest in Spain (also laden with foreigners I hear). Our hotel was nothing special, but it did have some odd rules. No food or drink in the rooms (including alcohol!) as well as no one was allowed in a room unless they were actually staying in that room. We proceeded to break every rule, aside from the one previously unmentioned, putting out cigarettes on the floor. With no smokers it was hard to be the full sweep.
We went out that night in search of some dinner and found a little restaurant tucked down an alley called “Casa de las Murcillas”. Murcilla is a type of sausage that is amazingly tasty and this place had like 100 different kinds. Mike, John, and Jon were there with me and we had a fantastic meal of meat, potatoes, and bread. Very Spanish. If you’re wondering what exactly Murcilla is you can ask me, thought I recommend trying it first… As we headed out on the town we went to the center of the old part of town to Plaza Mayor. It was gorgeous, a huge square tucked in the center of the city and illuminated brilliantly. I can’t remember what exactly went down there, but the city hall was located there and at one point in history the Reyes Cristianos, Ferdinand and Isabel, hung out there. The city had a much cathedral as they all do, and since Salamanca was once a super important city it was especially nice. Generally the city was done up well. The roads were wide, the buildings a little better kept. It is most likely since it’s age of importance was much more recent than those of the medieval towns of Andalucia.
The Cathedral was very cool since it was there that they also held job interviews for those that wanted to work at the University of Salamanca. The U of Salamanca is the third oldest in Europe. There in one of the rooms of the Cathedral they would hold oral interviews, but were more or less tests of ability. Even all of the 30 or 40 people giving the interview did not approve, the applicant failed. They were normally very prestigious figures. If a new professor was approved, he was allowed to write his name on a wall of university (in bull’s blood) and then there were many days of fiesta following. If not, they were quietly let out the a back door since out the front the people were awaiting the news that would let them party for days.
Another university related story is that of the famous frog of Salamanca. On the wall of a certain building there is hidden a frog. It’s small, and it was said that those who found it would have good luck. Therefore, it became tradition for students to go find the frog before final exams. Previously, the superstition had been the opposite, saying bad luck would come to those who found the frog. Some students back in the day reversed the story and today it is no hard task to find the frog. All you have to do is use the numerous postcards with photos of it as a guide. The frog is on top of a skull, making it even more ominous.
That evening we went back out and bought baked goods at a convent where the nuns which comprised it were never allowed to leave the compound. It had very specific hours, amounts, and prices, but all the pastries were great! After that we headed over to a Roman Bridge, still standing from long long ago. There we experienced a taste of fall that made us all ridiculously nostalgic since it was very Seattle weather. We played in the leaves, strolled on the bridge, and I tackled Josh on the grass, dragging him around a little, grass-staining his pants. It was fantastic to see grass again! On the way back we hit up H&M, a low cost clothing store that has some good-looking clothes and occasional great deals. Then, we went to an all you can eat Chinese buffet. It was actually pretty damn good. Mike had been there for lunch but came to join us during dinner anyways. He ate a total of 6 heaping plates of Chinese goodness. That night we were out to the street again. We started with a bar where John and I met a few local girls. We spent most of the night with them and I were home at a decent hour (3/4 AM?).
On Saturday morning Josh and I headed out early so we could hit up a couple last sites. We found a museum of modern art-deco which had some cool pieces (abinacos, statues, stain glass) and some rather ridiculous things (LOTS of dolls). We then stumbled upon a free museum that the government was sponsoring about the presence of the Stone Masons in Spain. The mason secret society was extensive and there is evidence of it even in Salamanca.
Mérida was also great fun. There were many roman ruins such as a fort, bridge, aqueduct, theater, and amphitheater. All were fantastic, especially the bridge which is the longest roman bridge in Spain and maybe also the world. A highlight was walking around seeing the quaint city and how much quieter it was than Cadiz. For lunch Sunday we went to a well know Italian restaurant and had some fantastic food. It was pretty damn authentic and a great way to end the trip.
I had a lot of thoughts going through my mind that trip about my image to others and whether I really cared what others thought about me. I realize that I need to be me a little more and that others will think what they may regardless. Most will eventually adapt to me, and those who cannot I don’t need to associate with. I’ll make concessions as well, as in any healthy relationship, but there should be a balance. I am a pleaser, but I don’t need to have everyone on my side. By standing with my own opinions (as soon as I figure them out) I’ll be more confident and in the end much happier.
domingo, 4 de noviembre de 2007
11-01/04-07 Morocco
To start off my Moroccan adventure, which was a Thursday-Sunday deal, I stayed out all night Wednesday, grabbed my stuff, and got on the bus to Tarifa. Our final destination was Fez, Morocco, the religious center of Morocco and one of two main cultural centers along with Marrakesh. Eight of us went, eight of fortunately returned.
Getting there: Bus to Tarifa at 6:45, 9:00 ferry to Tangiers, 11:00 train to Fez, 4:00 taxis to riad.
How getting there went: All tired and still drunk we get on the bus, we get to Tarifa a little later than expected and sprint to the ferry that ends up leaving late anyways, take the fast ferry that gets us to Africa in 35 min, almost get charged two euros too much for a taxi but wisely go to the official taxi stand, get to the train station and buy second class tickets that are supposed to be pretty crappy and end up being pretty comfortable, meet an argentine couple as well as a man that works in the Fez tourism office, get to Fez many hours later where a guide the man from the tourism office hooked us up with meets us, we take two ridiculously expensive taxis to the Medina (200 Dirham as apposed to 45 Dirham), are led through the Medina to our fantastic riad.
The Argentine couple we met were great people. I talked to them for a while and found out that they lived in Spain, though they could be living in the US. Their reason was a little different than what I’ve heard. The woman didn’t like American life and therefore didn’t want to live there. Cataluña, the most industrialized and progressive area of Spain, she also didn’t like to live in because she felt that it was like the America of Spain. The man, a computer scientist, gave up getting a very good job in the US to be an internet analyst in Spain where he works 9 hours a day and gets paid much much less. The other guy we met, Mohamed the tourism office guy, gave us all the run down on Fez and was super nice. He even called the house we were staying at to get our taxis set up. He also hooked us up with a guide (which we at the time thought was really awesome)…Idriss, our amiable, multilingual guide seemed like all good times from the very beginning. Even though he was a great guy, he definitely had alternate interests when leading us around.
A riad, such as the one we stayed in, is a traditional Moroccan home. Many have been restored and turned into to hostels/hotels. The one we were in was a small one, it only had 5 bedrooms, a kitchen, a central open area that extends up to the roof, a rooftop terrace with it’s own kitchen and a dinning table where we ate dinner. It had cushions and sofas everywhere, the beds were big and comfortable, and we lived it large. We had the whole house all to ourselves. The place cost a little more than a normal European hostel but it was worth it.
Thursday evening we did some medina walking. A medina is an old imperial city/market place. The one in Fez is the oldest and largest in the world with over 9000 small streets and the largest old mosque in Morocco (there is a newer mosque in Casablanca that is enormous). Fez and Marrakesh, along with a city who’s name I don’t remember were imperial cities of Morocco before the current one, Rebat. Surprise surprise Morocco is a constitutional monarchy. The whole Medina in Fez is a fantastic experience. There are a million little stores selling a million things. The food all looked super tasty and we were constantly tempted to buy up the plethora of fake Nikes and Pumas we passed. We were shown the doors to the big mosque which is tucked into the Medina and has 14 different doors for people to enter from. After some exploring we had dinner at a restaurant that, for the record, was not the one that our friend Mohamed had asked Idriss to take us. Aside from the lamb kebabas that were great, it wasn’t too fantastic of food. My couscous was pretty bland. Since John, Jocelyn, Jonathan, and I had been going since 8 AM the previous day’s morning we decided to head home after wards and sleeeeept.
Friday = Tiny bit of history, Shopping.
The day started with visits to the former Koranic school of Fez, the most holy Islamis site outside of Mecca (called the poor man’s Mecca since many poor people that cannot make it to Mecca come there to fulfill their Hajj), and to a former grand riad that was converted into a very pricey restaurant.
Then, we went straight off to hit up every government owned merchandise coop that we could. We started with rugs. The riad where the business was, was a “medium” sized riad and was huge. I can’t even imagine what a big one would be like. They took us to see a woman who was knotting a carpet. The loom and system in general looked really complicated and I was really impressed at the quality of the pattern that the woman could maintain. These rugs, which were all certified as the highest quality, had about 480,000 knots in a square meter. There were really durable and looked good on both sides. They are certified stain proof and easily cleaned without deterioration. After they showed us a million and one rugs and planted the idea of buying a rug to sell for profit in the US, we bought some rugs. John and I went in together on a medium rug to sell, Jonathan and Jocelyn did the same, and then Jonathan and I each got a smaller one for ourselves. It cost a lot, but it’ll hopefully turn out to be a big profit and pay for a lot of my European gallivanting. Also, if we pull it off it’s a good skill to have so that in my future travels I can do the same. Next we hit up the tannery of Fez which is very well known. Morocco itself is known for it’s high quality leather. The process of making leather is very time consuming and smelly. They gave us all some mint to smell while we looked over the actual tannery. There were many circular containers with chemicals and dyes in them where the skin was put to by conditioned and colored. There were many people taking sheep pelts and pulling off the wool. That wool is called dead wool and is used to make the lower quality carpets. Ours are all made with live wool. They make leather using sheep, goat, and camel skin. Of course, after seeing the leather making process, we were led to the buying areas! I held back there since the prices my “friend” (as every shop owner quickly became, I have NO idea why…) was giving me ridiculous prices.
After some weighty purchasing we were all decently hungry and had some kebab sandwiches. They were super tasty though Stephanie had a mental block towards it because of the sketchiness of roadside Moroccan food. Here, again, Idriss had us spending too much money. We all paid 25 Dirham and the next day Jonathan found that the normal price for what we had was 10. After lunch we went shopping for Berber Blankets. Also handmaid and beautiful. We haggled and got them down to a third of their price though still felt a little ripped off in the end. It was hard going to all these government stores. They were not a bargainable and Idriss wasn’t offering us other places to go. Can anyone say “commission”? After that we went to my favorite place, the spice shop!!
The walls were laden with spices and herbs for all sorts of uses. The man that owned the shop started to go through the most popular things. I got myself some lemon cumin, hot chili, all-spice, 5-spice, jiggy jiggy root (natural Viagra BUT also good for concentration, I’m going to dominata my finals next quarter). Others got magic lipstick (it’s green and turns red), henna, saffron lip balm, and saffron (most expensive spice in the world, made from a flower’s stamen). It was awesome, I bought tons and felt bad about none of it. Our last stop was a clothing place where they clothed us all in traditional Moroccan outfits but none of us caved in there.
The whole day of buying was deceptively expensive. A Euro is about 10 Dirham which isn’t too big of a difference. Yet, after Spain living and prices in another currency everything seemed so cheap and I wanted to buy it all!
That night we wanted to get some wine to share so Idriss was a great pal and took 3 of us in a car to a supermarket to buy us some alcohol. First though, Idriss took us to his house to have some tea, a snack, and pick up his wife. He really changed our perception about Morocco or at least Fez. It is not s Islamic conservative as you might think. It is pretty modern when it comes to tolerance and human rights. There were not many Burkahs and Idriss and his wife were very equal. The supermarket he took us to was HUGE. It was reverse culture shock to see that in Morocco after all the non-modernity we had experienced. Unfortunately, since alcohol isn’t too popular to the non-drinking Muslims it was all pretty pricy. We spent the night hanging out together, having a fantastic time together. I got lucky and went with some great people.
The next day Idriss took us on a half day excursion to see the ceramics workshop and buy some gorgeous mosaic ceramics. We then went to the king’s palace in Fez. Pretty damn impressive. It was great the Idriss was with us since the Medina is a huge maze and we would have lost ourselves a million times. Now that we’ve been there once we would be able to find our own way around next time, but having a guide at first was essential and it was nice to have him do some explaining of the city. He could have maybe gotten us some better prices on our purchases, but eh, what ya gonna do!
After saying goodbye to Idriss, John, Josh, and I went fake shoe shopping. Later that day we did probably the most new (for us) and cultural thing Morocco had to offer us. We went to the hammams which are turkish baths. With us we brought shampoo, soap, towels, and a Moroccan that was the manager of the riad we were staying in. When we arrived we stripped to our underwear and were given a large stack of buckets. The place had three subsequent rooms, each one hotter and steamier. The water was in the last room. There we filled each bucket with some hot water and some cold. The cold water is straight from the ground. The hot is heated by cedar fires which are far from the actial water but carries heat in the form of steam forced through pipes to the hammam. We proceeded to be massaged (more like stretched and thrown around), exfoliated, and scrubbed down by two Moroccan men. I can’t say that it was incredible but it wasn’t half bad and my skin certainly felt good after! The skin that flaked off us all was copious and revolting. We were all pretty dead-skinny due to the Spanish tans we had before the Moroccans stole them!
That evening Josh, John, and I went on some independent adventuring and ended up seeing some great views and getting back to the supermarket with some hand signals since none of us had any French knowledge and the taxi drivers didn’t know any English. We made pasta, mmmm.
The next day we headed home, and it was not as nice of a trip as the way there. The train trip took longer since the train we took required a transfer and it also was ridiculously slow. The return ferry also wasn’t as nice. There were some huge waves that got a lot of our stomachs churning. To top it all off, the bus to Cadiz (the last of the night) almost didn’t have enough room for us. We took exactly the last 8 seats on the bus. It was pretty stressful, but in the end we made it (though considerably poorer)!
Getting there: Bus to Tarifa at 6:45, 9:00 ferry to Tangiers, 11:00 train to Fez, 4:00 taxis to riad.
How getting there went: All tired and still drunk we get on the bus, we get to Tarifa a little later than expected and sprint to the ferry that ends up leaving late anyways, take the fast ferry that gets us to Africa in 35 min, almost get charged two euros too much for a taxi but wisely go to the official taxi stand, get to the train station and buy second class tickets that are supposed to be pretty crappy and end up being pretty comfortable, meet an argentine couple as well as a man that works in the Fez tourism office, get to Fez many hours later where a guide the man from the tourism office hooked us up with meets us, we take two ridiculously expensive taxis to the Medina (200 Dirham as apposed to 45 Dirham), are led through the Medina to our fantastic riad.
The Argentine couple we met were great people. I talked to them for a while and found out that they lived in Spain, though they could be living in the US. Their reason was a little different than what I’ve heard. The woman didn’t like American life and therefore didn’t want to live there. Cataluña, the most industrialized and progressive area of Spain, she also didn’t like to live in because she felt that it was like the America of Spain. The man, a computer scientist, gave up getting a very good job in the US to be an internet analyst in Spain where he works 9 hours a day and gets paid much much less. The other guy we met, Mohamed the tourism office guy, gave us all the run down on Fez and was super nice. He even called the house we were staying at to get our taxis set up. He also hooked us up with a guide (which we at the time thought was really awesome)…Idriss, our amiable, multilingual guide seemed like all good times from the very beginning. Even though he was a great guy, he definitely had alternate interests when leading us around.
A riad, such as the one we stayed in, is a traditional Moroccan home. Many have been restored and turned into to hostels/hotels. The one we were in was a small one, it only had 5 bedrooms, a kitchen, a central open area that extends up to the roof, a rooftop terrace with it’s own kitchen and a dinning table where we ate dinner. It had cushions and sofas everywhere, the beds were big and comfortable, and we lived it large. We had the whole house all to ourselves. The place cost a little more than a normal European hostel but it was worth it.
Thursday evening we did some medina walking. A medina is an old imperial city/market place. The one in Fez is the oldest and largest in the world with over 9000 small streets and the largest old mosque in Morocco (there is a newer mosque in Casablanca that is enormous). Fez and Marrakesh, along with a city who’s name I don’t remember were imperial cities of Morocco before the current one, Rebat. Surprise surprise Morocco is a constitutional monarchy. The whole Medina in Fez is a fantastic experience. There are a million little stores selling a million things. The food all looked super tasty and we were constantly tempted to buy up the plethora of fake Nikes and Pumas we passed. We were shown the doors to the big mosque which is tucked into the Medina and has 14 different doors for people to enter from. After some exploring we had dinner at a restaurant that, for the record, was not the one that our friend Mohamed had asked Idriss to take us. Aside from the lamb kebabas that were great, it wasn’t too fantastic of food. My couscous was pretty bland. Since John, Jocelyn, Jonathan, and I had been going since 8 AM the previous day’s morning we decided to head home after wards and sleeeeept.
Friday = Tiny bit of history, Shopping.
The day started with visits to the former Koranic school of Fez, the most holy Islamis site outside of Mecca (called the poor man’s Mecca since many poor people that cannot make it to Mecca come there to fulfill their Hajj), and to a former grand riad that was converted into a very pricey restaurant.
Then, we went straight off to hit up every government owned merchandise coop that we could. We started with rugs. The riad where the business was, was a “medium” sized riad and was huge. I can’t even imagine what a big one would be like. They took us to see a woman who was knotting a carpet. The loom and system in general looked really complicated and I was really impressed at the quality of the pattern that the woman could maintain. These rugs, which were all certified as the highest quality, had about 480,000 knots in a square meter. There were really durable and looked good on both sides. They are certified stain proof and easily cleaned without deterioration. After they showed us a million and one rugs and planted the idea of buying a rug to sell for profit in the US, we bought some rugs. John and I went in together on a medium rug to sell, Jonathan and Jocelyn did the same, and then Jonathan and I each got a smaller one for ourselves. It cost a lot, but it’ll hopefully turn out to be a big profit and pay for a lot of my European gallivanting. Also, if we pull it off it’s a good skill to have so that in my future travels I can do the same. Next we hit up the tannery of Fez which is very well known. Morocco itself is known for it’s high quality leather. The process of making leather is very time consuming and smelly. They gave us all some mint to smell while we looked over the actual tannery. There were many circular containers with chemicals and dyes in them where the skin was put to by conditioned and colored. There were many people taking sheep pelts and pulling off the wool. That wool is called dead wool and is used to make the lower quality carpets. Ours are all made with live wool. They make leather using sheep, goat, and camel skin. Of course, after seeing the leather making process, we were led to the buying areas! I held back there since the prices my “friend” (as every shop owner quickly became, I have NO idea why…) was giving me ridiculous prices.
After some weighty purchasing we were all decently hungry and had some kebab sandwiches. They were super tasty though Stephanie had a mental block towards it because of the sketchiness of roadside Moroccan food. Here, again, Idriss had us spending too much money. We all paid 25 Dirham and the next day Jonathan found that the normal price for what we had was 10. After lunch we went shopping for Berber Blankets. Also handmaid and beautiful. We haggled and got them down to a third of their price though still felt a little ripped off in the end. It was hard going to all these government stores. They were not a bargainable and Idriss wasn’t offering us other places to go. Can anyone say “commission”? After that we went to my favorite place, the spice shop!!
The walls were laden with spices and herbs for all sorts of uses. The man that owned the shop started to go through the most popular things. I got myself some lemon cumin, hot chili, all-spice, 5-spice, jiggy jiggy root (natural Viagra BUT also good for concentration, I’m going to dominata my finals next quarter). Others got magic lipstick (it’s green and turns red), henna, saffron lip balm, and saffron (most expensive spice in the world, made from a flower’s stamen). It was awesome, I bought tons and felt bad about none of it. Our last stop was a clothing place where they clothed us all in traditional Moroccan outfits but none of us caved in there.
The whole day of buying was deceptively expensive. A Euro is about 10 Dirham which isn’t too big of a difference. Yet, after Spain living and prices in another currency everything seemed so cheap and I wanted to buy it all!
That night we wanted to get some wine to share so Idriss was a great pal and took 3 of us in a car to a supermarket to buy us some alcohol. First though, Idriss took us to his house to have some tea, a snack, and pick up his wife. He really changed our perception about Morocco or at least Fez. It is not s Islamic conservative as you might think. It is pretty modern when it comes to tolerance and human rights. There were not many Burkahs and Idriss and his wife were very equal. The supermarket he took us to was HUGE. It was reverse culture shock to see that in Morocco after all the non-modernity we had experienced. Unfortunately, since alcohol isn’t too popular to the non-drinking Muslims it was all pretty pricy. We spent the night hanging out together, having a fantastic time together. I got lucky and went with some great people.
The next day Idriss took us on a half day excursion to see the ceramics workshop and buy some gorgeous mosaic ceramics. We then went to the king’s palace in Fez. Pretty damn impressive. It was great the Idriss was with us since the Medina is a huge maze and we would have lost ourselves a million times. Now that we’ve been there once we would be able to find our own way around next time, but having a guide at first was essential and it was nice to have him do some explaining of the city. He could have maybe gotten us some better prices on our purchases, but eh, what ya gonna do!
After saying goodbye to Idriss, John, Josh, and I went fake shoe shopping. Later that day we did probably the most new (for us) and cultural thing Morocco had to offer us. We went to the hammams which are turkish baths. With us we brought shampoo, soap, towels, and a Moroccan that was the manager of the riad we were staying in. When we arrived we stripped to our underwear and were given a large stack of buckets. The place had three subsequent rooms, each one hotter and steamier. The water was in the last room. There we filled each bucket with some hot water and some cold. The cold water is straight from the ground. The hot is heated by cedar fires which are far from the actial water but carries heat in the form of steam forced through pipes to the hammam. We proceeded to be massaged (more like stretched and thrown around), exfoliated, and scrubbed down by two Moroccan men. I can’t say that it was incredible but it wasn’t half bad and my skin certainly felt good after! The skin that flaked off us all was copious and revolting. We were all pretty dead-skinny due to the Spanish tans we had before the Moroccans stole them!
That evening Josh, John, and I went on some independent adventuring and ended up seeing some great views and getting back to the supermarket with some hand signals since none of us had any French knowledge and the taxi drivers didn’t know any English. We made pasta, mmmm.
The next day we headed home, and it was not as nice of a trip as the way there. The train trip took longer since the train we took required a transfer and it also was ridiculously slow. The return ferry also wasn’t as nice. There were some huge waves that got a lot of our stomachs churning. To top it all off, the bus to Cadiz (the last of the night) almost didn’t have enough room for us. We took exactly the last 8 seats on the bus. It was pretty stressful, but in the end we made it (though considerably poorer)!
domingo, 21 de octubre de 2007
10-19/21-07 Córdoba and Granada
For our second round of organized entire program trips, we headed to the two former Spanish Muslim capitals and former Caliphate capitals of the world – Córdoba and Granada. Leaving early Friday morning we spent the day in Córdoba. The old area of the city, named the Judería is full of tiny streets and white buildings like the majority of Medieval Spanish towns and was a pleasure to walk through. Our first stop was one of the 3 or 4 synagogues left in Spain. At the very end of the 15th century, the Spanish inquisition took full force and did it’s best to purge the Spanish kingdom of non-Catholics. The synagogue was tiny and through a no conspicuous door. We then saw an ancient door to the city, the disgustingly dirty Guadalquivir river which runs through, and then headed back to town to get some beers and tapas while we waited until our tour of the Mesquita/Cathedral of Córdoba to begin. Córdoba is the home to a traditional Spanish dish called Salmorejo. It is very similar to Gazpacho but with more bread (to make it thicker) and garlic and many little chucks of ham added at the end. It is creamier and is eaten like soup. The Salmorejo we had was godly. The region around Córdoba has a special type of vinegar that they use in it, and man was it amazing.
The Mesquita/Cathedral of Córdoba is the main attraction of the city. It is by far the most impressive and well known historical site. That was our last stop and, though I had seen it before, it was different because we had a guide taking us around. By seeing something so historical and gorgeous before, I could listen and learn as well as appreciate since I wasn’t as awestruck. The building was built in the 7th century as a Mesquita (Mosque) by the Caliphate (religious leader of the Islamic world) when he was exiled from Syria and forced to make southern Spain the new capital of the Muslim empire. The following Caliphates added to the Mesquita making it one of the biggest in the world. There are four parts, each created by a different man. After the Spanish Inquisition in 1492, the Mesquita was converted into a Cathedral by the Christian victors. The center of the Mesquita was more of less rooted out for the Cathedral to exist. Many columns were removed and it remains an odd mix of Christianity and Islam.
After our Córdoba excursion we headed to Granada. There we were put up in a hotel that was a nice change after many hostels. We all headed out after a little bit of relaxing and getting ready. We went out to a bar to celebrate a birthday and in the process drank and ate a ton! Dinner was all of the tapas that came with the drinks we ordered. In Granada, each drink comes with a free tapa (a little sandwich or some small but tasty snack). The night was relaxing but not too eventful.
The next day we headed to possibly the most historic site in Spain, the Alhambra. Gorgeous, hard to really explain. There is a palace, a fort, and gardens. The section called the Generalife is the gardens where the king used to stroll and escape the palace life. In the actual palace you see rooms where justice was served and many important decisions were made, including the spot directly upon which Queen Isabel granted Columbus the funding for his westward quest.
The day was filled with more cerveza, more free tapas, and a short siesta. I got my first hair cut at the nearby superstore since for some reason on Saturday afternoons no small hair place, none, are open. We therefore, sadly, paid too much and paid it to the big businessman.
That night, though, was one of the most interesting I’ve had since getting to Spain. John and I peeled of the big group and together went to a club. There we found a huge group of Erasmus students (a European study abroad program) from the nearby town of Murcia. I met Italians, Checks, Irish, British, Dutch, Belgian, French, and more. Great diversity! Early on I met a medical student who gave me a non-hangover drink mix to take before I started drinking. I’m still too skeptical to try it. And later, a group of Jack Daniels cowboy hat wearing, bush loving, Spaniards. It was insane! They were an anomaly and I had a ridiculously interesting talk with them. Their main support of our president was that he is a strong leader who makes strong decisions…hmmm…I was not quite in agreement. Regardless, interesting encounter. Then, after a falafel and a half hour lost wandering around the area looking for another bar, John and I ran into the exact opposite. Walking down a street we heard “Putas Americanas” yelled at us. That means, more or less, American Bitches. I, a little bit influenced by the drink, turned to go talk to these guys. There were three of them. I asked them why they said that about us even though they know nothing about who I am. A long conversation ensued and we listened and tried to correct their ignorant stereotypes. We received an apology, hearing that we weren’t like the others, that we were good Americans. I don’t think we made an impact on their stereotypic mindset. The night ended soon after but was certainly not a disappointment.
The next day Josh, Robert, and I left the group at the hotel and went to see the Capilla Real where the tombs of Ferdinand and Isabel reside. Really cool to see and think about the magnitude of importance they had in Spanish and world history (for those of us not up to date on European history, they led the Spanish Inquisition of 1492). Next we weaved our way on a cool back path up to the Mirador de San Nicolas that has a gorgeous view of Granada and met the group that had driven up there a little earlier. We all then had lunch together. It was amazing; the food we had was almost all vegetarian but consisted of some crazy vegetable combinations, falafel, humus, babaganoush, cinnamon rice, and an incredible rich dessert to finish it off.
After a long bus ride home (4 hours) and teaching Jeni how to roll her R’s I settled in the plaza where I steal internet to check up on everyone back home. While sitting there, I heard someone shouting. I looked up, and a window full of Spanish girls were calling for my attention.
All in all the trip was fantastic. I don’t know what it exactly was, but everything went great, ambience was always good, and that Sunday night I felt fantastic.
The Mesquita/Cathedral of Córdoba is the main attraction of the city. It is by far the most impressive and well known historical site. That was our last stop and, though I had seen it before, it was different because we had a guide taking us around. By seeing something so historical and gorgeous before, I could listen and learn as well as appreciate since I wasn’t as awestruck. The building was built in the 7th century as a Mesquita (Mosque) by the Caliphate (religious leader of the Islamic world) when he was exiled from Syria and forced to make southern Spain the new capital of the Muslim empire. The following Caliphates added to the Mesquita making it one of the biggest in the world. There are four parts, each created by a different man. After the Spanish Inquisition in 1492, the Mesquita was converted into a Cathedral by the Christian victors. The center of the Mesquita was more of less rooted out for the Cathedral to exist. Many columns were removed and it remains an odd mix of Christianity and Islam.
After our Córdoba excursion we headed to Granada. There we were put up in a hotel that was a nice change after many hostels. We all headed out after a little bit of relaxing and getting ready. We went out to a bar to celebrate a birthday and in the process drank and ate a ton! Dinner was all of the tapas that came with the drinks we ordered. In Granada, each drink comes with a free tapa (a little sandwich or some small but tasty snack). The night was relaxing but not too eventful.
The next day we headed to possibly the most historic site in Spain, the Alhambra. Gorgeous, hard to really explain. There is a palace, a fort, and gardens. The section called the Generalife is the gardens where the king used to stroll and escape the palace life. In the actual palace you see rooms where justice was served and many important decisions were made, including the spot directly upon which Queen Isabel granted Columbus the funding for his westward quest.
The day was filled with more cerveza, more free tapas, and a short siesta. I got my first hair cut at the nearby superstore since for some reason on Saturday afternoons no small hair place, none, are open. We therefore, sadly, paid too much and paid it to the big businessman.
That night, though, was one of the most interesting I’ve had since getting to Spain. John and I peeled of the big group and together went to a club. There we found a huge group of Erasmus students (a European study abroad program) from the nearby town of Murcia. I met Italians, Checks, Irish, British, Dutch, Belgian, French, and more. Great diversity! Early on I met a medical student who gave me a non-hangover drink mix to take before I started drinking. I’m still too skeptical to try it. And later, a group of Jack Daniels cowboy hat wearing, bush loving, Spaniards. It was insane! They were an anomaly and I had a ridiculously interesting talk with them. Their main support of our president was that he is a strong leader who makes strong decisions…hmmm…I was not quite in agreement. Regardless, interesting encounter. Then, after a falafel and a half hour lost wandering around the area looking for another bar, John and I ran into the exact opposite. Walking down a street we heard “Putas Americanas” yelled at us. That means, more or less, American Bitches. I, a little bit influenced by the drink, turned to go talk to these guys. There were three of them. I asked them why they said that about us even though they know nothing about who I am. A long conversation ensued and we listened and tried to correct their ignorant stereotypes. We received an apology, hearing that we weren’t like the others, that we were good Americans. I don’t think we made an impact on their stereotypic mindset. The night ended soon after but was certainly not a disappointment.
The next day Josh, Robert, and I left the group at the hotel and went to see the Capilla Real where the tombs of Ferdinand and Isabel reside. Really cool to see and think about the magnitude of importance they had in Spanish and world history (for those of us not up to date on European history, they led the Spanish Inquisition of 1492). Next we weaved our way on a cool back path up to the Mirador de San Nicolas that has a gorgeous view of Granada and met the group that had driven up there a little earlier. We all then had lunch together. It was amazing; the food we had was almost all vegetarian but consisted of some crazy vegetable combinations, falafel, humus, babaganoush, cinnamon rice, and an incredible rich dessert to finish it off.
After a long bus ride home (4 hours) and teaching Jeni how to roll her R’s I settled in the plaza where I steal internet to check up on everyone back home. While sitting there, I heard someone shouting. I looked up, and a window full of Spanish girls were calling for my attention.
All in all the trip was fantastic. I don’t know what it exactly was, but everything went great, ambience was always good, and that Sunday night I felt fantastic.
miércoles, 17 de octubre de 2007
10-17-07 Dropping the UCA class
The class through the university, Social and Economic History of Contemporary Spain, and I were not meant to be. I struggled from the start of real assignments due to the level of the writing that we were reading. The material was extremely academic and considering that I have not taken a single Spanish language course, it was no fun to read. Once we went over the paper in class, it was a little clearer but I still felt lost. My decision was made about 2/3 of the way into class Monday. I want to enjoy Spain, I want to have a full cultural experience, keep myself busy socially and make my Spanish grow that way. The course was not uninteresting but nothing exciting enough to make me want to work as hard as I would have needed to. I sacrificed some intense in school learning for cultural exposure. It does make me sad, not taking the class, because it would be ridiculously helpful to my Spanish. The material from the class can be learned in any country of the world, but experiencing Spain/Cadiz can only happen in one. Dropping the class was easy, regret will fade, pleasure is due to ensue.
lunes, 15 de octubre de 2007
10-15-07 Cooking School
Today I had the most amazing and valuable Spanish experience so far. Instead of my regular civilization class of 1.5 hours, it lasted for 3 hours and took place at the School of Hospitality. The school has two majors available – cooking and restaurant service. We were given a tour of the facilities as well as a short explanation of the way in which the school functioned. It was really interesting, and a cooking major would be something I would do in a heartbeat if it didn’t take 2 years of full university-level concentration.
Now, the main purpose of having class there was for us to get to learn to make a whole bunch of authentic Spanish dishes. And eat them. It was amazing and I loved every minute of it. The chefs were all ridiculously nice. We sat in our desks like good students watching them whip together professionally made ethnic dishes, while they explained to us the origins of the dishes and the tips/tricks they new. The chefs were all teachers/professors at the school so knew their stuff. The menu was as follows:
Gazpacho – a blend of tomatoes, garlic, green pepper, cucumber, onions, and a little bread into a cold, easy, and delicious soup
Tortilla de Camarones – A batter with tons of mini shrimp mixed in and fried. Sort of like onion rings with tiny shrimp.
Tortilla de Patatas – Potato pancake, really really common here. It is a mixture of egg (to keep it all together), potato (to provide filing), and a little onion (for some flavor).
Paella (Andaluz Style) – The most well known of Spanish dishes internationally, it is a mixture of veggies, rice, and various meats. Paella means pan in the language native to Valencia and is therefore the name of the dish AND the pan it is made in. The one we ate was made in the style of Andalucia (the region of Spain I’m in). It is extravagant and contains a huge array of items which are all the choices of the cook. The veggies consisted of red peppers, onions, peas, green beans, carrots, a tiny bit of tomato, and some garlic. Meat was chicken, pork, clams, oysters, large shrimp, and calamari. One of the most important ingredients, which gives the true flavor and fluffs the rice (which is added raw), is a broth made from the meat cuts not added to the paella. Another special ingredient is saffron (super-expensive spice which is a flower’s stamen), which gives a light flavor and a tint of color. All together it becomes amazing.
Arroz con Leche (Rice with Milk) – A very traditional dessert that is fantastic. It is made with some lemon rind, cinnamon, milk, sugar, and rice. Simple and tasty.
Tocino de Cielo (Heaven Bacon) – The name is a complete misdirection as to what the dish is. It is a SUPER sweet flan-like dessert that involves 22 egg yokes and 1 kilo of sugar. I though it was decent, but was a little confused by the eggy-sugaryness.
I ate it all, and lots of it. I had the seafood ridden Paella and though I avoided the clams and oysters, I actually tried and thoroughly enjoyed the shrimp and calamari. Also, I ate 2 or 3 Tortillas de Camarones, which I really liked (mom, I know you probably figured I would considering my love of Kupuk). The whole experience was great and has given me a ton of great new recipes to bring home and try out on everyone! My only worry is going broke considering the only oil they use (and swear that is the only one that can be used) was extra virgin olive oil – and lots of it.
Now, the main purpose of having class there was for us to get to learn to make a whole bunch of authentic Spanish dishes. And eat them. It was amazing and I loved every minute of it. The chefs were all ridiculously nice. We sat in our desks like good students watching them whip together professionally made ethnic dishes, while they explained to us the origins of the dishes and the tips/tricks they new. The chefs were all teachers/professors at the school so knew their stuff. The menu was as follows:
Gazpacho – a blend of tomatoes, garlic, green pepper, cucumber, onions, and a little bread into a cold, easy, and delicious soup
Tortilla de Camarones – A batter with tons of mini shrimp mixed in and fried. Sort of like onion rings with tiny shrimp.
Tortilla de Patatas – Potato pancake, really really common here. It is a mixture of egg (to keep it all together), potato (to provide filing), and a little onion (for some flavor).
Paella (Andaluz Style) – The most well known of Spanish dishes internationally, it is a mixture of veggies, rice, and various meats. Paella means pan in the language native to Valencia and is therefore the name of the dish AND the pan it is made in. The one we ate was made in the style of Andalucia (the region of Spain I’m in). It is extravagant and contains a huge array of items which are all the choices of the cook. The veggies consisted of red peppers, onions, peas, green beans, carrots, a tiny bit of tomato, and some garlic. Meat was chicken, pork, clams, oysters, large shrimp, and calamari. One of the most important ingredients, which gives the true flavor and fluffs the rice (which is added raw), is a broth made from the meat cuts not added to the paella. Another special ingredient is saffron (super-expensive spice which is a flower’s stamen), which gives a light flavor and a tint of color. All together it becomes amazing.
Arroz con Leche (Rice with Milk) – A very traditional dessert that is fantastic. It is made with some lemon rind, cinnamon, milk, sugar, and rice. Simple and tasty.
Tocino de Cielo (Heaven Bacon) – The name is a complete misdirection as to what the dish is. It is a SUPER sweet flan-like dessert that involves 22 egg yokes and 1 kilo of sugar. I though it was decent, but was a little confused by the eggy-sugaryness.
I ate it all, and lots of it. I had the seafood ridden Paella and though I avoided the clams and oysters, I actually tried and thoroughly enjoyed the shrimp and calamari. Also, I ate 2 or 3 Tortillas de Camarones, which I really liked (mom, I know you probably figured I would considering my love of Kupuk). The whole experience was great and has given me a ton of great new recipes to bring home and try out on everyone! My only worry is going broke considering the only oil they use (and swear that is the only one that can be used) was extra virgin olive oil – and lots of it.
sábado, 13 de octubre de 2007
10-13-07 Getting Hit On
While I was using the Internet near the beach today I found myself victim to a grave misunderstanding. A man walked up to me and said something incomprehensible, then rephrased the previous sentence so that I sort of realized what he was saying, finally asking me, “Entiendes (do you understand)?” Now, I thought he was referring to the previous sentence, so I said, “Sí.” He plopped himself next to me and started talking to me about “amor libre” (free love) which was a little odd, but I smelled alcohol on his breath and I thought maybe he was a little depressed and wanted to talk to someone. So, why not let him vent, right? Well, just a little bit after we started talking I noticed the pierced right ear, with an earring, and no such earring in the left. Now we talked for a bit and then I finally realized that he was completely hitting on me. After we talked about love, the perfect world, and relationships, he asked me what would happen if we were together, or perhaps were to go to bed together “hypothetically” (suuure, hypothetically…). So I tried to say no thank you, I don’t swing that way. He then asked if I was going to go out tonight. I said yup, but with my friends, not you. Then he asked if I wanted to get a drink. I said no. Instead of taking the hint he got closer, asked me name, touched my shoulder and grabbed my hand, after which I promptly got angry. I am in NO way a homophobe, but I don’t like it when people assume they can start to invade my personal space when every answer previously was a no. I pushed him away, told him off, and he finally got the point. After he left I remembered how the conversation had started and felt pretty stupid. When he said, “Entiendes (do you understand)?” as we learned during intensive Spanish class but I neglected to realize, he was really asking, “Are you homosexual?” My response prompted the intent, but definitely did not garner the persistence. That was something very Spanish that made me have much more respect for the girls here and in our program that deal with that sort of attitude constantly. I guess you learn something new everyday, here were my two lessons:
1. REALLY understand before you say you do.
2. Women in Spain deserve a lot of credit for what they have to put up with.
According to my ‘mom’, what I did was very polite and much much less intense than it would have been had one of her sons been approached. That man would have received a nice black eye so I hear.
1. REALLY understand before you say you do.
2. Women in Spain deserve a lot of credit for what they have to put up with.
According to my ‘mom’, what I did was very polite and much much less intense than it would have been had one of her sons been approached. That man would have received a nice black eye so I hear.
viernes, 5 de octubre de 2007
10-01/05-07 Spanish Class and Learning
This week I started my class, the Social and Economic History of Spain. It is a real University of Cadiz course and is taught by two professors, one does the social history and the other economic history. One teaches the Monday class and the other the Tuesday class which keeps things changing. Both professors were easy enough to understand since they talked at a normal rate and with purpose. The class is made up of four groups of students- us three Americans (myself and two other girls from my program), some French girls, a few Germans, and some Spaniards. It’s not a surprise that there are so many of us foreigners since the class is sort of redundant for Spaniards. I really enjoyed and became excited for the Social side after the prof’s presentation. The woman who is teaching it is great and the issues that we’ll be going over shed light on international history and it’s effects on a nation internally. The other half, Economic history, is taught by the same man who does my Spanish Civilization course. Now, he is a really nice man but at the same time extremely boring. I think that economic history has the potential to be interesting, only I hope he doesn’t prevent that.
After class on the second day I went to talk to some of my fellow foreigners. The Germans I met were all there on the Erasmus program. It is an extremely popular program that allows any student in the European Union to apply to study at a University in another country for a year. It is much easier than exchange programs and has attracted TONS of students. The even better part, which I didn’t know about, was that their tuition is absolutely free. They get a scholarship automatically when accepted to their program. All they pay for is living expenses. Unfair!
Other than that, I had some more late nights, during one of which I had an eye opening experience. My opinion about listening to opinions of others was rattled. The situation was this – last year there was some legal trouble with a student on the program, a local, and drugs. Nothing serious but nothing fun either while on a foreign exchange program. Therefore, the said local has been given a pretty bad reputation among host mothers and program directors. My ‘mom’ had personally warned me about this local trying to get to know American students so as to promote his business. So after all that I eventually got to know him and after spending a few nights around him, playing a soccer game with him, and hearing more about the other side of the legal troubles. Though he is shady, has a sort of questionable personality, and is a little bit of a mooch – he is actually a pretty damn good guy. After all that I had heard, it was a little surprising but made me really thankful I had given him a chance.
I’ve seen that many Spanish people have very particular thoughts about most things and changing their minds is difficult. They believe something, and then, not only do they stick to it as truth, they want you to think or do the same. Therefore they are quick to tell you/teach you their way as the only right way. My mom has opinions and knowledge that are true and well thought-out, but also TONS that just do not make sense or are obviously there to promote her style of life as the best. My ‘mom’ is a relative extreme of this syndrome but I see it all over. People are not as skeptical about their way of life but extremely proud. Maybe it comes from centuries of deeply rooted tradition, but now that globalization is changing the Spanish way of life, a lot of what they claim no longer holds true. The youth, especially those at the university, are more skeptical, but the older/traditional households are not - unlike those of the US (not all but I believe most) who are for the most part aware that our society has significant flaws, but we accept it shamefully or acknowledge the hypocrisy.
After class on the second day I went to talk to some of my fellow foreigners. The Germans I met were all there on the Erasmus program. It is an extremely popular program that allows any student in the European Union to apply to study at a University in another country for a year. It is much easier than exchange programs and has attracted TONS of students. The even better part, which I didn’t know about, was that their tuition is absolutely free. They get a scholarship automatically when accepted to their program. All they pay for is living expenses. Unfair!
Other than that, I had some more late nights, during one of which I had an eye opening experience. My opinion about listening to opinions of others was rattled. The situation was this – last year there was some legal trouble with a student on the program, a local, and drugs. Nothing serious but nothing fun either while on a foreign exchange program. Therefore, the said local has been given a pretty bad reputation among host mothers and program directors. My ‘mom’ had personally warned me about this local trying to get to know American students so as to promote his business. So after all that I eventually got to know him and after spending a few nights around him, playing a soccer game with him, and hearing more about the other side of the legal troubles. Though he is shady, has a sort of questionable personality, and is a little bit of a mooch – he is actually a pretty damn good guy. After all that I had heard, it was a little surprising but made me really thankful I had given him a chance.
I’ve seen that many Spanish people have very particular thoughts about most things and changing their minds is difficult. They believe something, and then, not only do they stick to it as truth, they want you to think or do the same. Therefore they are quick to tell you/teach you their way as the only right way. My mom has opinions and knowledge that are true and well thought-out, but also TONS that just do not make sense or are obviously there to promote her style of life as the best. My ‘mom’ is a relative extreme of this syndrome but I see it all over. People are not as skeptical about their way of life but extremely proud. Maybe it comes from centuries of deeply rooted tradition, but now that globalization is changing the Spanish way of life, a lot of what they claim no longer holds true. The youth, especially those at the university, are more skeptical, but the older/traditional households are not - unlike those of the US (not all but I believe most) who are for the most part aware that our society has significant flaws, but we accept it shamefully or acknowledge the hypocrisy.
10-05/08-07 Paris on crack
I made it to Paris!! I had thought about going, but never seriously considered it. France was not a must see, but now I know that it should have been. My friend Vanessa has a friend studying there who she wanted to visit and so that she could have a partner tourist I went along. Having that connection meant free board, free tour guide, free translator, and free good company.
Getting to Paris meant us having to travel to Sevilla (2.5 hours by bus), to the airport in Sevilla from the bus station (1 hour by bus), and then fly to Paris from there (2 hours). Nothing too horrible until we got out of the airport too late to take the metro and ended up catching a taxi from the airport into town. Cost = 50 euro. No fun, but money becomes fake on vacation (consequently I didn’t spend anything the whole time I was there…maybe) so no worries were had. I was amazed at the speed of checking in and such at the airport. We got to our gate within 15 minutes of entering the airport, if not less. Unfortunately, flight left pretty late so all efficiency was lost. Charles d’Gaul airport in Paris is crazy. There are huge, long moving walkways and people tunnels crisscrossing all over. It was very spaceageish but in like a 1960s sort of way.
Meeting Heather, Vanessa’s friend, was a pleasure (as was being around here the whole trip). She’s ridiculously nice and was an amazing hostess. Her apartment had a view of the top of the Eiffel Tower. The lights on it flash once an hour for about 10-15 minutes which we saw right as we arrived. It is a spectacle for the tourists that I wasn’t too partial to. Not surprisingly, most Parisians feel likewise. Regardless, beautiful view. Getting up to her floor (the 8th) had us all crammed into a tiny elevator. The elevator fit us three and two backpacks as long as one backpack was held above our heads. This turned out to be a normal elevator size. Smaller came later. On the plus side, elevators in France are amazingly quiet.
We woke up relatively early to start what I call “Paris on Crack”. Everyone on the streets, Vanessa noticed, was dressed in very plain/preppy but stylish clothing. I was the only person that I saw that had any writing on their shirt. It seemed like the whole society dressed well. With weather that was a little chilly (a nostalgic change), we began our quest. This is how it went:
1. Saturday market – it was outdoor and extremely French.
2. French Café - coffee and a croissant.
3. Montmarte – a gorgeous neighborhood where the Moulin Rouge is located. It is up on a hill, and has a great view of the rest of Paris. It also has the largest church in Paris, which is pretty huge and very beautiful.
4. Dali Museum in Montmarte – amazing artist, amazing museum.
5. Arc de Triomph
6. Walk down the Champs-Elysée
7. Obelisk – taken from Egypt a while back; Egypt wants it back, France says too bad.
8. Eiffel Tower – We bought wine, brie, some baguettes, and mini-strawberries which we picnicked with on the lawn in front of the Tower.
9. Watched a rugby match with French peeps – It was the rugby world cup quarterfinal and France upset New Zealand (the best team in the world) 20 - 18. The Frenchies freaked out, it was awesome! Unfortunately they lost to England just the other night in the semis.
10. French house party – The elevator was the smallest in the world, I’m sure of it. Three tiny girls just barely fit in it. Barely. The apartment was also tiny but nothing too ridiculous until we saw that the shower was in the kitchen, right next to the stove! The party was alright but nothing as good as going to Nois Blanche (white night) would have been (which was that night also). It is an all night festival with street performers, art, and other fun stuff.
11. Back to the Arc de Triomph – I ran across the roundabout that encircles it because I wanted to truly feel the size of the thing (it’s HUGE). There were some cops there, they weren’t so happy with me. I got scolded but Heather’s French friend Olivier came to my rescue. He is one of the nicest guys in the world and stuck with us all night.
12. At 5:30 AM we caught the metro home. The taxis were ALL full due to Nois Blanche so we camped out at a sandwich shop until the first metro came.
The next day was not quite as jam packed, but I thought we did a good job of that the day before. After a 2pm wakeup and a 3pm lunch, Vanessa and I left Heather and hit up the two museums we most wanted to see – the Louvre and the Pompidou. The Louvre was amazing as everyone that visit it sees. I really liked the Egyptian art and the sculptures. It was crazy to see the Venus de Milo right there. Also, the Mona Lisa was a trip, mostly because of the huge crowd that gathered to see a painting that to me was surprisingly small and not as spectacular as I would have thought. A great painting for sure, but probably not worth its extreme fame. The next stop was the Pompidou which is a modern art museum. Also amazing. The art was thrilling due to the intense modernism and surrealism. There was a ton of Picasso, Miró, and Dali as well as many many many others that I did not recognize but who had amazing works.
To top off the day, we met up with heather and headed straight out to dinner. Having little time left (we left the next morning) we needed a full french cuisine experience. Oh, and that we had. I, in my odd loss of pickyness since I’ve been here, ordered a plate of greinouie (Frog’s legs), Vanessa got the escargot, Heather onion soup, and we all shared a fondue. I really really enjoyed the frog legs, the escargot was excellent too (it was in a pesto sauce, mmm), as was the soup. Our fondue was not in a pot and all melty as normal ones are. It was a hot plate on which we melted cheese that was brought to us. It lifted so that we could pour the cheese onto potatoes and ham, which were also brought on side plates. The meal was a French explosion and I’m really glad I let down all food barriers because I loved it all.
Afterwards, we made it to Notre Dame which was right next door, had a beer, and then hit the sack early so as to get up early.
The next day we woke up, had croissants for breakfast, and then found a store so that I could buy some cheese to bring back to the others. The Brie and Camembert – which I spent a hard earned 5 euro on – were taken away from us at the airport! They were (heavily French accent on) “prohibited”. The security lady was insane and spoke little English. After some exasperated haggling the cheese was thrown into a burn bin, never to be seen again…
So, aside from some tiny inconveniences, Paris rocked hard. The city is beautiful, there is a ton to do there, and from the talk of the locals and foreigners, it is also a fun place to live. Go, do Paris on crack. I highly recommend it.
Getting to Paris meant us having to travel to Sevilla (2.5 hours by bus), to the airport in Sevilla from the bus station (1 hour by bus), and then fly to Paris from there (2 hours). Nothing too horrible until we got out of the airport too late to take the metro and ended up catching a taxi from the airport into town. Cost = 50 euro. No fun, but money becomes fake on vacation (consequently I didn’t spend anything the whole time I was there…maybe) so no worries were had. I was amazed at the speed of checking in and such at the airport. We got to our gate within 15 minutes of entering the airport, if not less. Unfortunately, flight left pretty late so all efficiency was lost. Charles d’Gaul airport in Paris is crazy. There are huge, long moving walkways and people tunnels crisscrossing all over. It was very spaceageish but in like a 1960s sort of way.
Meeting Heather, Vanessa’s friend, was a pleasure (as was being around here the whole trip). She’s ridiculously nice and was an amazing hostess. Her apartment had a view of the top of the Eiffel Tower. The lights on it flash once an hour for about 10-15 minutes which we saw right as we arrived. It is a spectacle for the tourists that I wasn’t too partial to. Not surprisingly, most Parisians feel likewise. Regardless, beautiful view. Getting up to her floor (the 8th) had us all crammed into a tiny elevator. The elevator fit us three and two backpacks as long as one backpack was held above our heads. This turned out to be a normal elevator size. Smaller came later. On the plus side, elevators in France are amazingly quiet.
We woke up relatively early to start what I call “Paris on Crack”. Everyone on the streets, Vanessa noticed, was dressed in very plain/preppy but stylish clothing. I was the only person that I saw that had any writing on their shirt. It seemed like the whole society dressed well. With weather that was a little chilly (a nostalgic change), we began our quest. This is how it went:
1. Saturday market – it was outdoor and extremely French.
2. French Café - coffee and a croissant.
3. Montmarte – a gorgeous neighborhood where the Moulin Rouge is located. It is up on a hill, and has a great view of the rest of Paris. It also has the largest church in Paris, which is pretty huge and very beautiful.
4. Dali Museum in Montmarte – amazing artist, amazing museum.
5. Arc de Triomph
6. Walk down the Champs-Elysée
7. Obelisk – taken from Egypt a while back; Egypt wants it back, France says too bad.
8. Eiffel Tower – We bought wine, brie, some baguettes, and mini-strawberries which we picnicked with on the lawn in front of the Tower.
9. Watched a rugby match with French peeps – It was the rugby world cup quarterfinal and France upset New Zealand (the best team in the world) 20 - 18. The Frenchies freaked out, it was awesome! Unfortunately they lost to England just the other night in the semis.
10. French house party – The elevator was the smallest in the world, I’m sure of it. Three tiny girls just barely fit in it. Barely. The apartment was also tiny but nothing too ridiculous until we saw that the shower was in the kitchen, right next to the stove! The party was alright but nothing as good as going to Nois Blanche (white night) would have been (which was that night also). It is an all night festival with street performers, art, and other fun stuff.
11. Back to the Arc de Triomph – I ran across the roundabout that encircles it because I wanted to truly feel the size of the thing (it’s HUGE). There were some cops there, they weren’t so happy with me. I got scolded but Heather’s French friend Olivier came to my rescue. He is one of the nicest guys in the world and stuck with us all night.
12. At 5:30 AM we caught the metro home. The taxis were ALL full due to Nois Blanche so we camped out at a sandwich shop until the first metro came.
The next day was not quite as jam packed, but I thought we did a good job of that the day before. After a 2pm wakeup and a 3pm lunch, Vanessa and I left Heather and hit up the two museums we most wanted to see – the Louvre and the Pompidou. The Louvre was amazing as everyone that visit it sees. I really liked the Egyptian art and the sculptures. It was crazy to see the Venus de Milo right there. Also, the Mona Lisa was a trip, mostly because of the huge crowd that gathered to see a painting that to me was surprisingly small and not as spectacular as I would have thought. A great painting for sure, but probably not worth its extreme fame. The next stop was the Pompidou which is a modern art museum. Also amazing. The art was thrilling due to the intense modernism and surrealism. There was a ton of Picasso, Miró, and Dali as well as many many many others that I did not recognize but who had amazing works.
To top off the day, we met up with heather and headed straight out to dinner. Having little time left (we left the next morning) we needed a full french cuisine experience. Oh, and that we had. I, in my odd loss of pickyness since I’ve been here, ordered a plate of greinouie (Frog’s legs), Vanessa got the escargot, Heather onion soup, and we all shared a fondue. I really really enjoyed the frog legs, the escargot was excellent too (it was in a pesto sauce, mmm), as was the soup. Our fondue was not in a pot and all melty as normal ones are. It was a hot plate on which we melted cheese that was brought to us. It lifted so that we could pour the cheese onto potatoes and ham, which were also brought on side plates. The meal was a French explosion and I’m really glad I let down all food barriers because I loved it all.
Afterwards, we made it to Notre Dame which was right next door, had a beer, and then hit the sack early so as to get up early.
The next day we woke up, had croissants for breakfast, and then found a store so that I could buy some cheese to bring back to the others. The Brie and Camembert – which I spent a hard earned 5 euro on – were taken away from us at the airport! They were (heavily French accent on) “prohibited”. The security lady was insane and spoke little English. After some exasperated haggling the cheese was thrown into a burn bin, never to be seen again…
So, aside from some tiny inconveniences, Paris rocked hard. The city is beautiful, there is a ton to do there, and from the talk of the locals and foreigners, it is also a fun place to live. Go, do Paris on crack. I highly recommend it.
domingo, 30 de septiembre de 2007
30-09-07Toros En Sevilla (Bullfight)
The rain that greeted us on Sunday morning was more or less a down pour. But we were leaving so no harm done! We left Portugal at around 1 PM and went straight off to Sevilla (after a return trip a little ways out to get a forgotten cell phone) to watch the last bull fight of the season. After about 3 hours we arrived, and I scoured the streets for a parking place, finding one after a while (wooo!) and then leaving it for paid parking after I realized I had no way to lock the car. We were in two cars so transferred all valuables to the other and then set off to buy some tickets. Since this bullfight was the last of the season and was in arguable the most famous plaza de toros (bullring) in the world, we were quick to dish out the 21 Euros it cost (that included 6 bulls/rounds of bullfighting) and were happy to find out that it cost only 19 Euros for those of us under 21 years old. Also, this was a professional fight; these guys were really famous – like good pro athletes.
The fight was by far the most uniquely Spanish thing I had seen and have seen since arriving in Spain. My mother here classified it as an art, but it seems like there is something else there that she neglected to explain because there was something about it that wasn’t quite artistic. I thought at first that it was a machismo (of which there is a lot) but even that didn’t cover it. I’m still not sure but will do my best to find out. My feelings about it as a whole was: I thought it was interesting, just interesting. Not bad but nothing spectacular. It is indeed very systematic and practiced, and these bulls (as I was told by my mom) were all a little above average on the ferocity scale. She, like the good Spaniard she is, was watching it on TV and absolutely loved it.
So here is how a corrida de toros (bullfight) works:
1. The bull is taunted a little with the pink-and-yellow-cape-waving group of four men known as the quadrilla. Their task is to control the bull as well as to get him riled up. Some do the valiant wave the bull past with the cape deal while others dash for the sidewall and hide behind it while the bull knocks his head against it.
2. These mounted men, named picadors, come into the ring and the bull is brought close to them by the quadrilla. One picador takes his staff that has a hooked knife on it and proceeds to cut the lower neck of the bull. This is one of the steps that had most of us a little confused since it was pretty cowardly to debilitate the bull that way. His nerves are significantly damaged by the act. The horse that the man is on is blindfolded and gets absolutely pummeled by the bull. Luckily they are padded (more to come on why that is essential).
3. Next, two men, called, banderilleros, and wield pointy metal poles which are about arm’s length and proceed to run at the bull, have him turn his head, stab them into the bull’s back, and sprint for the wall. This is a lot more dangerous, I believe, and makes the bull even more confused and weak. It is also a stylistically done process as they arch their backs a certain way and must skillfully stab the bull at the correct point.
4. Now comes the part that we all know about in America and has been popularized worldwide. The torero/matador comes out and is alone with the bull in the ring. He has a red cape as we all know about, but also has a sword and a metal staff (about the same length as the sword) that has a cross on the end. The sword is used towards the end and the staff is for mistakes. So, what exactly does the matador do? Here is where art and style are really clear. The other rounds seemed more like procedure while his is a one on one session with the bull. He drives him back and forth, round and round. The matador has a noticeable advantage due to how weak the other rounds made the bull but regardless does he job as fanciful as he can. Occasionally the bull can fall to the ground in his state of weakness, showing how much of an advantage the torero is given. Nevertheless, the bulls often nick the torero, injuring and/or killing him. The animals are huge, valiant, and to me seemed even regal – which made the last part a little degrading. The last act of the matador is to stab their sword into the bull, aiming for the heart. That part – pretty damn difficult. The bull is still very alive and dangerous, and to get a good stab they must get quite close and be very exact. The bull proceeds to wobble around for a minute until it’s loss of nerves and blood/blood flow brings about its end.
5. A horse drawn harness is then brought out with a couple men leading them. This group is called Monos Sabidos (wise monkeys). Why? No idea. Not even my Spanish dad knows. They hook the bull and, while loud trumpets play, drag the bull in a circle within the ring and crack a whip, finally taking him out of the ring in triumph. So, the bull fought valiantly, us humans used our wits to overpower him in largely unfair procedure, and then pretended like what we did was amazingly impressive in the cocky and degrading fashion of dragging the combatant in circles around the ring. It would be like rounding up all the enemy casualties in a war and dragging them around the capital city. It is certainly a show catching deal but I wasn’t a fan. I would have appreciated more honor and respect for the fight the bull put up.
So that is the structure. Here are a couple interesting things I saw. The second bull was amazingly ferocious and fun to watch, but the third was able to to tip over the horse upon which was the picador and rammed incessantly into the horse’s stomach. All of us first-timers were horrified for the horse (who as you remember is blindfolded) because we didn’t know at the time that the horse had padding on his underside. Makes sense, but was scary to not know! Poor ignorant horse, mean humans. Next thing, the metal pole with a cross on the end – used to pull out the sword after an unsuccessful stab. The torero either waits for it to fall out, since if it doesn’t go in right/far enough then their job isn’t done right, and then tries again. Half of the toreros took two stabs (one having to use the cross-thingy to retrieve the sword for another go), but the third did great and hit home on his first try. The crowd loved him and waved their white handkerchiefs in the air for him. Since he did well he received at the end of the corrida a ear of the bull he killed. The most scary bull stunt, though, was done by one of the men in the cuadrilla. He would hold the cape between his legs and have the bull charge at that. THAT is impressive!
All in all, it was an experience and a half. All of us that saw the corrida were a little speechless but of course fascinated. We drove home, got in a little late, I learned how horribly difficult (and fun) driving the tiny streets of Cadiz is, and then finally made it home after a fun, eventful, and exciting trip/day.
The fight was by far the most uniquely Spanish thing I had seen and have seen since arriving in Spain. My mother here classified it as an art, but it seems like there is something else there that she neglected to explain because there was something about it that wasn’t quite artistic. I thought at first that it was a machismo (of which there is a lot) but even that didn’t cover it. I’m still not sure but will do my best to find out. My feelings about it as a whole was: I thought it was interesting, just interesting. Not bad but nothing spectacular. It is indeed very systematic and practiced, and these bulls (as I was told by my mom) were all a little above average on the ferocity scale. She, like the good Spaniard she is, was watching it on TV and absolutely loved it.
So here is how a corrida de toros (bullfight) works:
1. The bull is taunted a little with the pink-and-yellow-cape-waving group of four men known as the quadrilla. Their task is to control the bull as well as to get him riled up. Some do the valiant wave the bull past with the cape deal while others dash for the sidewall and hide behind it while the bull knocks his head against it.
2. These mounted men, named picadors, come into the ring and the bull is brought close to them by the quadrilla. One picador takes his staff that has a hooked knife on it and proceeds to cut the lower neck of the bull. This is one of the steps that had most of us a little confused since it was pretty cowardly to debilitate the bull that way. His nerves are significantly damaged by the act. The horse that the man is on is blindfolded and gets absolutely pummeled by the bull. Luckily they are padded (more to come on why that is essential).
3. Next, two men, called, banderilleros, and wield pointy metal poles which are about arm’s length and proceed to run at the bull, have him turn his head, stab them into the bull’s back, and sprint for the wall. This is a lot more dangerous, I believe, and makes the bull even more confused and weak. It is also a stylistically done process as they arch their backs a certain way and must skillfully stab the bull at the correct point.
4. Now comes the part that we all know about in America and has been popularized worldwide. The torero/matador comes out and is alone with the bull in the ring. He has a red cape as we all know about, but also has a sword and a metal staff (about the same length as the sword) that has a cross on the end. The sword is used towards the end and the staff is for mistakes. So, what exactly does the matador do? Here is where art and style are really clear. The other rounds seemed more like procedure while his is a one on one session with the bull. He drives him back and forth, round and round. The matador has a noticeable advantage due to how weak the other rounds made the bull but regardless does he job as fanciful as he can. Occasionally the bull can fall to the ground in his state of weakness, showing how much of an advantage the torero is given. Nevertheless, the bulls often nick the torero, injuring and/or killing him. The animals are huge, valiant, and to me seemed even regal – which made the last part a little degrading. The last act of the matador is to stab their sword into the bull, aiming for the heart. That part – pretty damn difficult. The bull is still very alive and dangerous, and to get a good stab they must get quite close and be very exact. The bull proceeds to wobble around for a minute until it’s loss of nerves and blood/blood flow brings about its end.
5. A horse drawn harness is then brought out with a couple men leading them. This group is called Monos Sabidos (wise monkeys). Why? No idea. Not even my Spanish dad knows. They hook the bull and, while loud trumpets play, drag the bull in a circle within the ring and crack a whip, finally taking him out of the ring in triumph. So, the bull fought valiantly, us humans used our wits to overpower him in largely unfair procedure, and then pretended like what we did was amazingly impressive in the cocky and degrading fashion of dragging the combatant in circles around the ring. It would be like rounding up all the enemy casualties in a war and dragging them around the capital city. It is certainly a show catching deal but I wasn’t a fan. I would have appreciated more honor and respect for the fight the bull put up.
So that is the structure. Here are a couple interesting things I saw. The second bull was amazingly ferocious and fun to watch, but the third was able to to tip over the horse upon which was the picador and rammed incessantly into the horse’s stomach. All of us first-timers were horrified for the horse (who as you remember is blindfolded) because we didn’t know at the time that the horse had padding on his underside. Makes sense, but was scary to not know! Poor ignorant horse, mean humans. Next thing, the metal pole with a cross on the end – used to pull out the sword after an unsuccessful stab. The torero either waits for it to fall out, since if it doesn’t go in right/far enough then their job isn’t done right, and then tries again. Half of the toreros took two stabs (one having to use the cross-thingy to retrieve the sword for another go), but the third did great and hit home on his first try. The crowd loved him and waved their white handkerchiefs in the air for him. Since he did well he received at the end of the corrida a ear of the bull he killed. The most scary bull stunt, though, was done by one of the men in the cuadrilla. He would hold the cape between his legs and have the bull charge at that. THAT is impressive!
All in all, it was an experience and a half. All of us that saw the corrida were a little speechless but of course fascinated. We drove home, got in a little late, I learned how horribly difficult (and fun) driving the tiny streets of Cadiz is, and then finally made it home after a fun, eventful, and exciting trip/day.
sábado, 29 de septiembre de 2007
27/29-09-07Portugal
To Portugal!
At 9AM, I made it to the rental car shop ready to hit the road to Lagos. We were off to Portugal from Thursday to Sunday, heading down to the coastal town of Lagos. People started to trickle to our meeting spot, but the person with our reservation, Chloe, was a good hour and a half late (which I found out later was normal). So, after another half hour of paperwork and dillydallying we headed towards the new part of town, picked up the others, and the nine of us headed out of Cadiz. I drove since Matt, who rented the car, was not familiar with the art of the manual. Also, I kind of wanted to try out the driving style on the treacherous Spanish roads. The roads here are interesting. Europeans, as always, are in a bind for space. The old parts of all the cities I’ve been to have been made up of roads big enough for one car and a person on both sidewalks – walking around the streets is sorta scary, driving is a whole different experience. People hardly even take a glance when they cross the street and need a prodding with the horn to get them to clear the road (I’m guilty of that when I’m walking too, but the sidewalks are way too small to expect us to use them all the time). The corners are ridiculously tight, and had I not been in a dumpling-like car, they would have been extremely difficult to navigate as well. Regardless, it was really fun and I enjoyed driving again too (mostly due to the fact that we were free to do whatever we pleased). Also, the nine of us got along great. We rocked, that was that.
Getting to Portugal was easy and no getting lost occurred. We drove into Lagos and sent one car off to find the apartments we were off to stay at while we waited. The scary part about that, lack of communication. A couple people had cell phones that worked but not well and it cost a ton. It’s a little uncomfortable to be so out of contact now that we’ve become accustomed to cell phones. It seems harder now than it was before cell phones to be without them. Landlines are almost nonexistent and pay phone prices are much higher since they are used much less frequently. Also, nobody knows other phone numbers anymore since every one they need is stored in their cell phone.
Lagos and the south of Portugal are generally dry but there is a gorgeous coastline. The first thing I noticed about the town was the excessive number of tourists and generally people speaking English. It seemed that the town was a popular vacation spot and possibly had many people making Lagos their summer home.
Finally, we got to eat what we wanted to eat! The apartment we were staying at had a full kitchen, so we went to a grocery store and got everything we’d been missing living with pseudo mothers. I got the ingredients for red curry chicken and cooked it that night. It was glorious. We also bought bread – a full, large, fantastic baguette for .50 Euros. Portugal, like Spain, did bread well and cheap. The US needs to figure that out. Going to a supermarket wasn’t too difficult especially due to the Americanization of food here in the Spain/Portugal region. What we normally buy in the US isn’t all there but it has similar goods and if you really wanted, you could live like an American college student, eating frozen pizza and coke (which is what Matt did). That night we took all of our food, had some drinks by the pool (apartments, chicken, AND a pool!) and then made a wonderful dinner.
The next day, our first full one, we went to the nearby beach, Luz. It had a little bit of a different structure from our beaches in Spain. It was a lot more rocky which made swimming a little treacherous. The upside was that we were right next to huge rock formations around which we climbed for a while and actually found a little secluded beach which would have been nice to discover a little earlier so that we could have spent all our time on it. We frisbee’d, walked around, swam around, and took in some more sun. Our group split up that night since the rest of them were not as interested in going into town. Josh, John, Vanessa, and I went into town to look around and possibly find some dinner. What we found – boring, tourist based menus with a huge lacking in authentic Portuguese food. There were street performers, all sorts of international food, and as I said, very little Portuguese culture. We saw two cool acts – one was a human statue set with two people, an angel in white and a demon all in black (creeeeepy); the other was by far the funniest, a Jamaican man, in Portugal, singing an American Song (Times Like These - Foo Fighters), and doing so poorly. Good times! After some debate we stayed the night in, having dinner at our place.
We woke up Saturday with the mission of actually doing something unique that we couldn’t already do in Cadiz. We went to the tourism office and booked tickets to take a tour of the numerous grottos of Lagos (water caves). The tour was nice, nothing spectacular but still cool. The caves would have been fun to swim around in and explore a little deeper than our speedboat could take us. The most awesome sight was the holes in the roofs of the caves. They were carved out over millennia by water from the sea hitting the rocks and spewing up to slowly eroding that little area of the cave. As we rode around I got to know the man driving the boat/guiding the tour. He was Portuguese and spoke relatively good English. We began talking about the USA and where within it he had traveled. When talking about his visit to L.A. and I asked him how he had liked it. His response was interesting and disheartening. He enjoyed the country but the people put him off. Due to his skin color he immediately was tagged as a Mexican. Furthermore, after he would correct their mistake, it would still be assumed that he spoke Spanish due to the fact that they believed Portugal was a part of Spain. It really embarrassed me as an American. Especially since all that lack of education was coupled with a negative treatment in general due to the anti-Hispanic sentiment a lot of grudging Southern Californians feel.
After the tour we happily walked back to our car to have our mood demolished. The lock to the car, which Matt (who wasn’t with us at the time) rented, had been tampered with and was completely unusable. All the doors were unlocked which was even scarier. Fortunately the thief had taken absolutely nothing. Maybe we got lucky and got back at the right time or someone else might have scared them off. Regardless, it was really annoying, a little depressing, and made the trip a little less fun. To finish up our Lagos tour we took a walk around the city walls and through the old part of town which, despite being tourist ridden, is really quaint and beautiful. After that, we went back to the house to be depressed a little more and take a little siesta.
Dinner – Indian food!!! We ate curry and tikka and I burned my taste buds for the first time in a looong time with my curry of 5+1 stars. The food was great and my pride was boosted by the waiter who kept coming over concerned that my food would be too hot and I kept sending him away with the, “it’s perfect,” response. We found the others at a bar in town and proceeded to party the night away in a couple different bars, one of which was four stories of dancing and drinking. I went home “early” at 3:30 AM and was to bed by 4 AM. The others, in all their intelligence and knowing we had to be out of the apartments before 12 PM got home at around 7 AM. They were a little out of it the next day as we started our journey back.
At 9AM, I made it to the rental car shop ready to hit the road to Lagos. We were off to Portugal from Thursday to Sunday, heading down to the coastal town of Lagos. People started to trickle to our meeting spot, but the person with our reservation, Chloe, was a good hour and a half late (which I found out later was normal). So, after another half hour of paperwork and dillydallying we headed towards the new part of town, picked up the others, and the nine of us headed out of Cadiz. I drove since Matt, who rented the car, was not familiar with the art of the manual. Also, I kind of wanted to try out the driving style on the treacherous Spanish roads. The roads here are interesting. Europeans, as always, are in a bind for space. The old parts of all the cities I’ve been to have been made up of roads big enough for one car and a person on both sidewalks – walking around the streets is sorta scary, driving is a whole different experience. People hardly even take a glance when they cross the street and need a prodding with the horn to get them to clear the road (I’m guilty of that when I’m walking too, but the sidewalks are way too small to expect us to use them all the time). The corners are ridiculously tight, and had I not been in a dumpling-like car, they would have been extremely difficult to navigate as well. Regardless, it was really fun and I enjoyed driving again too (mostly due to the fact that we were free to do whatever we pleased). Also, the nine of us got along great. We rocked, that was that.
Getting to Portugal was easy and no getting lost occurred. We drove into Lagos and sent one car off to find the apartments we were off to stay at while we waited. The scary part about that, lack of communication. A couple people had cell phones that worked but not well and it cost a ton. It’s a little uncomfortable to be so out of contact now that we’ve become accustomed to cell phones. It seems harder now than it was before cell phones to be without them. Landlines are almost nonexistent and pay phone prices are much higher since they are used much less frequently. Also, nobody knows other phone numbers anymore since every one they need is stored in their cell phone.
Lagos and the south of Portugal are generally dry but there is a gorgeous coastline. The first thing I noticed about the town was the excessive number of tourists and generally people speaking English. It seemed that the town was a popular vacation spot and possibly had many people making Lagos their summer home.
Finally, we got to eat what we wanted to eat! The apartment we were staying at had a full kitchen, so we went to a grocery store and got everything we’d been missing living with pseudo mothers. I got the ingredients for red curry chicken and cooked it that night. It was glorious. We also bought bread – a full, large, fantastic baguette for .50 Euros. Portugal, like Spain, did bread well and cheap. The US needs to figure that out. Going to a supermarket wasn’t too difficult especially due to the Americanization of food here in the Spain/Portugal region. What we normally buy in the US isn’t all there but it has similar goods and if you really wanted, you could live like an American college student, eating frozen pizza and coke (which is what Matt did). That night we took all of our food, had some drinks by the pool (apartments, chicken, AND a pool!) and then made a wonderful dinner.
The next day, our first full one, we went to the nearby beach, Luz. It had a little bit of a different structure from our beaches in Spain. It was a lot more rocky which made swimming a little treacherous. The upside was that we were right next to huge rock formations around which we climbed for a while and actually found a little secluded beach which would have been nice to discover a little earlier so that we could have spent all our time on it. We frisbee’d, walked around, swam around, and took in some more sun. Our group split up that night since the rest of them were not as interested in going into town. Josh, John, Vanessa, and I went into town to look around and possibly find some dinner. What we found – boring, tourist based menus with a huge lacking in authentic Portuguese food. There were street performers, all sorts of international food, and as I said, very little Portuguese culture. We saw two cool acts – one was a human statue set with two people, an angel in white and a demon all in black (creeeeepy); the other was by far the funniest, a Jamaican man, in Portugal, singing an American Song (Times Like These - Foo Fighters), and doing so poorly. Good times! After some debate we stayed the night in, having dinner at our place.
We woke up Saturday with the mission of actually doing something unique that we couldn’t already do in Cadiz. We went to the tourism office and booked tickets to take a tour of the numerous grottos of Lagos (water caves). The tour was nice, nothing spectacular but still cool. The caves would have been fun to swim around in and explore a little deeper than our speedboat could take us. The most awesome sight was the holes in the roofs of the caves. They were carved out over millennia by water from the sea hitting the rocks and spewing up to slowly eroding that little area of the cave. As we rode around I got to know the man driving the boat/guiding the tour. He was Portuguese and spoke relatively good English. We began talking about the USA and where within it he had traveled. When talking about his visit to L.A. and I asked him how he had liked it. His response was interesting and disheartening. He enjoyed the country but the people put him off. Due to his skin color he immediately was tagged as a Mexican. Furthermore, after he would correct their mistake, it would still be assumed that he spoke Spanish due to the fact that they believed Portugal was a part of Spain. It really embarrassed me as an American. Especially since all that lack of education was coupled with a negative treatment in general due to the anti-Hispanic sentiment a lot of grudging Southern Californians feel.
After the tour we happily walked back to our car to have our mood demolished. The lock to the car, which Matt (who wasn’t with us at the time) rented, had been tampered with and was completely unusable. All the doors were unlocked which was even scarier. Fortunately the thief had taken absolutely nothing. Maybe we got lucky and got back at the right time or someone else might have scared them off. Regardless, it was really annoying, a little depressing, and made the trip a little less fun. To finish up our Lagos tour we took a walk around the city walls and through the old part of town which, despite being tourist ridden, is really quaint and beautiful. After that, we went back to the house to be depressed a little more and take a little siesta.
Dinner – Indian food!!! We ate curry and tikka and I burned my taste buds for the first time in a looong time with my curry of 5+1 stars. The food was great and my pride was boosted by the waiter who kept coming over concerned that my food would be too hot and I kept sending him away with the, “it’s perfect,” response. We found the others at a bar in town and proceeded to party the night away in a couple different bars, one of which was four stories of dancing and drinking. I went home “early” at 3:30 AM and was to bed by 4 AM. The others, in all their intelligence and knowing we had to be out of the apartments before 12 PM got home at around 7 AM. They were a little out of it the next day as we started our journey back.
miércoles, 26 de septiembre de 2007
24/26-09-07HomeworkInAPlaza
I love the fact that the city is open all night every night. This first have of the week has been absolutely sleep deprived. I got home at 5/6 AM Sunday night, 3:30ish Monday, similar Tuesday, and 2:30 Wednesday (but only because I had to drive a car to Portugal in the morning). Due to classes and such I’ve had between 4 and 6 hours of sleep and due to the insatiable need to go to the beach daily didn’t make up for that with siestas. I really didn’t mind though. At night I’d walk around plazas and go to the beach and watch the waves. Kind of sappy, but awesomely awesome.
On Monday night I actually had homework that had to get done. I did some at home and then went to a plaza in the old part of town where I finished it all. Three others and me sat around studying for our first exam and I finished writing/editing the essay I needed to turn in early for Spanish (also we saw a youtube video on Basilisks – crazy frickin lizards that can run across water). The other reason we met up that night in the plaza and the reason that I had to finish my essay early was to plan our trip to Portugal that would have us skipping class on Friday. After the homework was done, we had a couple drinks and then departed for the night a few hours later.
‘Mom’ vs. Eli – Round 75. Lunch on Tuesday was a complete victory on my part. After the first plate was done she attempted to give me twice as much of the second as I wanted. She left the room with two portions, warmed them up, brought it back, went back with another one portion to warm up for my ‘dad’, during which I gave my ‘dad’ the one portion I didn’t want but would satisfy him. When she got back, the last one she warmed up she could eat herself, and I ate what I wanted. To make the peace after the fancy maneuver I told her I would eat it for dinner (not something I did because I forgot I had plans for dinner already, though I would have!). I would have felt bad about it all but the Spanish mothers just haven’t gotten their minds around Tupperware. If something isn’t finished, they get completely nervous, sometimes leaving out till dinner, others covering it with a plate or some plastic wrap and sticking it in the fridge, or as they do all to often throw it away. The society seems to be getting in general richer and be receiving the same sort of disposable tendencies we see in the US. It’s a little sad, but inevitable as the rest of the world sees the efficiencies rather than degradation of discipline of a disposable culture.
That night we went out to a bar/restaurant well known for their tapas. Amazing, fantastic, so great. We ordered a beef in “spicy” sauce, a veggie mixture with sauce, montaditos (little sandwiches) – one of salmon and one of jam, and my favorite by far – a big old chorizo (spiced sausage). The beef was tasty but far from spicy, but that chorizo was absolutely fantastic. I know that it must have had a 100 grams of fat in it, but the flavor was so glorious that it matters not. I solemnly promise that I will be back to eat me another quite soon. The other great part is that I again did not eat too much, and spent just five euros for two dishes and a beer. Not a bad price at all.
As time goes on living in my house with my ‘parents’ and spending time with friends around the city I realize I sort of feel like I’m back in high school or worse. I feel like I’m more or less imposing on the household as is, even though I know they are getting paid to keep we there, and so I don’t feel comfortable having friends over since it is their house and they are only obligated to support my presence alone. It makes the personal space that I love at college and really enjoy sharing with others non-existent. The streets, plazas, and bars do alright, but it is certainly an aspect of the lifestyle that I’m happy to escape. Unfortunately for many Spanish children, they end up living with their parents for many many years (it is super common for kids to stay in the house until they are in their late 20s). This is due to the lack of quality employment, steep housing prices, and – a trait I notice more and more – extreme laziness. Due to all that they too don’t have their own home to host people at will, though they do have a different, closer relationship with their parents which makes things a little easier.
On Wednesday night I went out to get some tapas, botellón’ing before and after. The place we went was called Los Cien Montaditos which meant everything was in between bread. It was all great, though I was disappointed about the Carne con Mojo Picón (meat in a spicy sauce) which my ‘mom’ made for me once and told me was fantastic here. Hers was great and had a little kick while theirs was good but essentially kick-less. Regardless, another tapas success. Afterwards, we hit up the bars for a bit before I needed to head home and rest up for driving to Portugal. I met a couple of Gaditanos and was glad to get home early enough for a few hours of sleep.
On Monday night I actually had homework that had to get done. I did some at home and then went to a plaza in the old part of town where I finished it all. Three others and me sat around studying for our first exam and I finished writing/editing the essay I needed to turn in early for Spanish (also we saw a youtube video on Basilisks – crazy frickin lizards that can run across water). The other reason we met up that night in the plaza and the reason that I had to finish my essay early was to plan our trip to Portugal that would have us skipping class on Friday. After the homework was done, we had a couple drinks and then departed for the night a few hours later.
‘Mom’ vs. Eli – Round 75. Lunch on Tuesday was a complete victory on my part. After the first plate was done she attempted to give me twice as much of the second as I wanted. She left the room with two portions, warmed them up, brought it back, went back with another one portion to warm up for my ‘dad’, during which I gave my ‘dad’ the one portion I didn’t want but would satisfy him. When she got back, the last one she warmed up she could eat herself, and I ate what I wanted. To make the peace after the fancy maneuver I told her I would eat it for dinner (not something I did because I forgot I had plans for dinner already, though I would have!). I would have felt bad about it all but the Spanish mothers just haven’t gotten their minds around Tupperware. If something isn’t finished, they get completely nervous, sometimes leaving out till dinner, others covering it with a plate or some plastic wrap and sticking it in the fridge, or as they do all to often throw it away. The society seems to be getting in general richer and be receiving the same sort of disposable tendencies we see in the US. It’s a little sad, but inevitable as the rest of the world sees the efficiencies rather than degradation of discipline of a disposable culture.
That night we went out to a bar/restaurant well known for their tapas. Amazing, fantastic, so great. We ordered a beef in “spicy” sauce, a veggie mixture with sauce, montaditos (little sandwiches) – one of salmon and one of jam, and my favorite by far – a big old chorizo (spiced sausage). The beef was tasty but far from spicy, but that chorizo was absolutely fantastic. I know that it must have had a 100 grams of fat in it, but the flavor was so glorious that it matters not. I solemnly promise that I will be back to eat me another quite soon. The other great part is that I again did not eat too much, and spent just five euros for two dishes and a beer. Not a bad price at all.
As time goes on living in my house with my ‘parents’ and spending time with friends around the city I realize I sort of feel like I’m back in high school or worse. I feel like I’m more or less imposing on the household as is, even though I know they are getting paid to keep we there, and so I don’t feel comfortable having friends over since it is their house and they are only obligated to support my presence alone. It makes the personal space that I love at college and really enjoy sharing with others non-existent. The streets, plazas, and bars do alright, but it is certainly an aspect of the lifestyle that I’m happy to escape. Unfortunately for many Spanish children, they end up living with their parents for many many years (it is super common for kids to stay in the house until they are in their late 20s). This is due to the lack of quality employment, steep housing prices, and – a trait I notice more and more – extreme laziness. Due to all that they too don’t have their own home to host people at will, though they do have a different, closer relationship with their parents which makes things a little easier.
On Wednesday night I went out to get some tapas, botellón’ing before and after. The place we went was called Los Cien Montaditos which meant everything was in between bread. It was all great, though I was disappointed about the Carne con Mojo Picón (meat in a spicy sauce) which my ‘mom’ made for me once and told me was fantastic here. Hers was great and had a little kick while theirs was good but essentially kick-less. Regardless, another tapas success. Afterwards, we hit up the bars for a bit before I needed to head home and rest up for driving to Portugal. I met a couple of Gaditanos and was glad to get home early enough for a few hours of sleep.
domingo, 23 de septiembre de 2007
22/23-09-07RhondaWeekend
After school Friday I headed to the beach to begin the most packed weekend I’ve had. John and I played soccer with some local kids and some guys from Pamplona. We were both on the Pamplonan’s team and played for a few hours. The end result was fun and pain. There were little shell fragments on the beach, the sand was hard and rough, and we were most certainly barefoot. Both John and I felt like our feet were burning which made walking home a chore and our excursion the next day – where we walked for hours and hours – a trying experience. That night we went out for a while, had some beers, and I got home around 3:30 AM which gave me 3.5 hours to sleep before I had to wake up for our excursion to Rhonda.
And to Rhonda we go! I was up at 7 to catch our bus to Rhonda at 8. We weaved our way into the Spanish mountains which are NW of Cadiz and towards the center of Spain. The trip took us through some wonderfully quaint countrysides and hills to a pueblo blanco (white town) Rhonda which is on a hill itself and extends across the ravine which cuts the hill in half, providing beautiful views down into the surrounding fields. We walked around the quaint streets, crossed old bridges, and climbed the city wall (which didn’t look like it would keep an army out for more than a few minutes). All in all, the actual city itself was what I enjoyed the most. We saw some cool sites, more churches and palaces, but the town of Rhonda took the cake. Rhonda also has the oldest bull ring in all of Spain. It was there that the Spanish developed the modern form of bull fighting which is so famous today. Before they would fight while on horse rather than by foot. Another interesting fact is that Hemmingway was lived in Rhonda for a long while during his writing years and refers to it in his writing. After spending some time site seeing we had some lunch (as always, mine was enormous and I supplemented the lunches of others) and then headed off on the bus again to Arcos, another pueblo blanco. Arcos was less spectacular but beautiful regardless.
We made it home around 6, promptly after which I fell asleep. I woke up at 10 PM to have some leftovers for dinner (my mom was gone for the weekend and I could actually eat as much I wanted without having to fend off extra food). The leftovers I chose were albondigas (meatballs) on cuscus and paella – pretty amazing leftovers. After that, to the streets! We botellóned in San Fransisco and then hopped to a couple bars before heading out to La Punta for hours and hours of dancing and drinking until 7:30 when the discotecas closed down. When they did, we headed to the upper level, above the clubs, to hang out some more and watch the water. Up there we found the ground COVERED with trash (seriously there was trash everywhere) - plastic bags, alcohol, mixers, etc. Regardless, we hung around.
At around 10 AM I stumbled home and proceeded to sleep till 3 PM. I ate lunch alone since I missed the earlier hour and headed directly to the beach afterwards. There I found a huge group of people from the program, which is fun sometimes but is really getting old. The group of peeps I hang with is sliming but occasionally those crowds remain. I got home from the beach at 9:30 PM, headed back out after dinner and despite the lack of sleep stayed out till about 6 AM. Good idea? For now sure, when school starts, maybe not so much but so far all work has been done, no classes have been missed, and I’m actually staying attentive in class and learning something.
And to Rhonda we go! I was up at 7 to catch our bus to Rhonda at 8. We weaved our way into the Spanish mountains which are NW of Cadiz and towards the center of Spain. The trip took us through some wonderfully quaint countrysides and hills to a pueblo blanco (white town) Rhonda which is on a hill itself and extends across the ravine which cuts the hill in half, providing beautiful views down into the surrounding fields. We walked around the quaint streets, crossed old bridges, and climbed the city wall (which didn’t look like it would keep an army out for more than a few minutes). All in all, the actual city itself was what I enjoyed the most. We saw some cool sites, more churches and palaces, but the town of Rhonda took the cake. Rhonda also has the oldest bull ring in all of Spain. It was there that the Spanish developed the modern form of bull fighting which is so famous today. Before they would fight while on horse rather than by foot. Another interesting fact is that Hemmingway was lived in Rhonda for a long while during his writing years and refers to it in his writing. After spending some time site seeing we had some lunch (as always, mine was enormous and I supplemented the lunches of others) and then headed off on the bus again to Arcos, another pueblo blanco. Arcos was less spectacular but beautiful regardless.
We made it home around 6, promptly after which I fell asleep. I woke up at 10 PM to have some leftovers for dinner (my mom was gone for the weekend and I could actually eat as much I wanted without having to fend off extra food). The leftovers I chose were albondigas (meatballs) on cuscus and paella – pretty amazing leftovers. After that, to the streets! We botellóned in San Fransisco and then hopped to a couple bars before heading out to La Punta for hours and hours of dancing and drinking until 7:30 when the discotecas closed down. When they did, we headed to the upper level, above the clubs, to hang out some more and watch the water. Up there we found the ground COVERED with trash (seriously there was trash everywhere) - plastic bags, alcohol, mixers, etc. Regardless, we hung around.
At around 10 AM I stumbled home and proceeded to sleep till 3 PM. I ate lunch alone since I missed the earlier hour and headed directly to the beach afterwards. There I found a huge group of people from the program, which is fun sometimes but is really getting old. The group of peeps I hang with is sliming but occasionally those crowds remain. I got home from the beach at 9:30 PM, headed back out after dinner and despite the lack of sleep stayed out till about 6 AM. Good idea? For now sure, when school starts, maybe not so much but so far all work has been done, no classes have been missed, and I’m actually staying attentive in class and learning something.
viernes, 21 de septiembre de 2007
17/21-09-07FirstFullSchoolWeek
The first week of school was a little bit of a wake up call since I actually had to pay attention and start taking notes and such! Que horror! In all actuality, it was nice to get back to learning. I love the partying atmosphere and will continue to enjoy it, but this adds a new twist and life and is a great thing for the learning enthusiast. On Monday we will have fixed courses. We are supposed to take 4 or 5 depending on what you need credit-wise. Since I am working toward neither a major nor a minor, I get to do whatever I want! Mine are as follows:
Spain and the European Union (Honors) – This class is going to be excellent. It is a history of the Union to begin with and then goes into Spain’s interaction with the Union. We each are supposed to be doing a research project on a country in the Union, but I talked to my professor and was given the green light to do mine on Turkey as well as do some extra work and extent it so that I can receive honors credit for the course.
Spanish Civilization (Honors) – The professor is a little dry but I get to learn all about Spanish history from the perspective of who the Spanish are. We spend time on the normal topics (heritage, customs) and then go into depth with some very Spanish characteristics (1 week on gastronomy – food and culture – and a week on wines which includes a trip to a wine tasting facility I believe). I’ll be doing a separate project in this class comparing the Spanish life to American life to gain honors credit, but I am super interested in that topic so it should be fun. The differences are huge and there are some pros and cons that I am personally quite conflicted about.
Geography - might audit it since I only need 4 classes, but it is stuff I’d love to learn and the professor is awesome (Okay, geografía es la materia más importante, es una materia fantástica, la más bella, okay. Como se dice “okay”? Lo digo bien? Bueno! Okay…). The course will go over the map of Spain as well as cover the geo-political significance of the regions.
Social and Economic History on Contemporary Spain (Honors) – I will taking this course directly through the University of Cadiz (all the other courses are developed for our program and include only others people from our program). As there will be a much higher level of difficulty understanding the professor and the expectations will be much higher, I’ll be getting honors credit for this class too. I’m really excited, though, to be able to take a class directly because I am quite positive it’ll be more interesting/valuable.
Language I – This class is just the basic language course I’ll be taking. Due to the lack of courses I’ve been through at UW and a general struggle with grammar it is really nice that I get to take the lowest level language course offered. I feel I’m in the right place and the professor is fantastic which is going to make it really easy to fully take advantage of the course.
The next step after having made these choices is actually getting myself motivated! The beach, people, and Spanish life are much more alluring and pulling myself away is pretty damn hard. During the week I had some fun as well. Went to a movie called Murderball - It is a documentary on Wheel Chair Rugby, which is apparently a very popular sport in the quadriplegic world. Saw a concert from a local band, which had a mix of flamenco, salsa, and other styles. Also, there was some homework mixed in.
Spain and the European Union (Honors) – This class is going to be excellent. It is a history of the Union to begin with and then goes into Spain’s interaction with the Union. We each are supposed to be doing a research project on a country in the Union, but I talked to my professor and was given the green light to do mine on Turkey as well as do some extra work and extent it so that I can receive honors credit for the course.
Spanish Civilization (Honors) – The professor is a little dry but I get to learn all about Spanish history from the perspective of who the Spanish are. We spend time on the normal topics (heritage, customs) and then go into depth with some very Spanish characteristics (1 week on gastronomy – food and culture – and a week on wines which includes a trip to a wine tasting facility I believe). I’ll be doing a separate project in this class comparing the Spanish life to American life to gain honors credit, but I am super interested in that topic so it should be fun. The differences are huge and there are some pros and cons that I am personally quite conflicted about.
Geography - might audit it since I only need 4 classes, but it is stuff I’d love to learn and the professor is awesome (Okay, geografía es la materia más importante, es una materia fantástica, la más bella, okay. Como se dice “okay”? Lo digo bien? Bueno! Okay…). The course will go over the map of Spain as well as cover the geo-political significance of the regions.
Social and Economic History on Contemporary Spain (Honors) – I will taking this course directly through the University of Cadiz (all the other courses are developed for our program and include only others people from our program). As there will be a much higher level of difficulty understanding the professor and the expectations will be much higher, I’ll be getting honors credit for this class too. I’m really excited, though, to be able to take a class directly because I am quite positive it’ll be more interesting/valuable.
Language I – This class is just the basic language course I’ll be taking. Due to the lack of courses I’ve been through at UW and a general struggle with grammar it is really nice that I get to take the lowest level language course offered. I feel I’m in the right place and the professor is fantastic which is going to make it really easy to fully take advantage of the course.
The next step after having made these choices is actually getting myself motivated! The beach, people, and Spanish life are much more alluring and pulling myself away is pretty damn hard. During the week I had some fun as well. Went to a movie called Murderball - It is a documentary on Wheel Chair Rugby, which is apparently a very popular sport in the quadriplegic world. Saw a concert from a local band, which had a mix of flamenco, salsa, and other styles. Also, there was some homework mixed in.
sábado, 15 de septiembre de 2007
09-15-07Sevilla
After a semi-late night, and despite being exhausted from the week, Josh, Vanessa, Brianna, and I hoped on a bus to Sevilla to get out of Cadiz and see some cool stuff. John, in a sub-par state of health (bien crudo), didn’t meet up with us as planned so the four of us took off and got to Sevilla at around 12:30. The bus cost us 9 euros each way and took just 1.5 hours.
When we got there and oriented ourself we headed straight for Sevilla’s main tourist attraction, El Catedral. The cathedral was built in the 7th century and is not only enormous but covered with carvings and filled with gorgeous sculptures, stained glasses windows, golden art, and other similarly ancient things. Many many many many pictures were taken, though not being allowed to use a flash was a little difficult. Josh was muy enfadado (angry) as blurry pictures were taken one after another. After seeing the main halls we climbed the tower of the cathedral and took some time to scan the Sevilla skyline. The barrio Santa Cruz, an older, quaint and gorgeous part of town was next to the cathedral and we could see a lot of the great architecture from that tower.
Lunch was our next item on the agenda. Now, my ‘mom’ packed me enough food for about 8 meals in one bag for this one day trip, meaning that I had more than enough to share around. The most common bocadillo (sub-sandwich) is one that has a tortilla de patata inside of it. A tortilla de patata is a mixture of potatoes, ham, and salt held together with an eggy mixture and then fried. It appears to be more or less a potato pancake – which we then eat in a sandwich. Despite it being a little odd, it tastes fantastic. That came with another sandwich (both were huge by the way) of ham and cheese, cheetos, juice, more juice, an apple, and a chocolate croissant. Damn what a meal, one eaten underneath a statue of the Immaculate Conception (coincidence?).
Our next stop was the arena de torros to see if there was a bullfight, but unfortunately the fight we though was Saturday was Sunday and we were only planning on staying in Sevilla for the day. The river that crosses through Sevilla was right next to us at that point and we walked along it to find café where we could grab a drink and take a rest. The one we found had mediocre juices and fruit shakes which were able to tide us over for a while.
As we walked towards an area of town that looked cool (unfortunately it was more or less a park for hobos) we found underneath the city’s many bridges some of the most amazing graffiti. There were eyes, birds, writing, people, and tons of other crazy cool stuff done with a pretty impressive skill level. After passing all that we ran into a riverside barbeque spot which was quite American. The whole area being kind of creepy (especially the drunken man lying by his trailer trying to get us to come talk to him), we left to head back to the main part of town, finding more graffiti on the way.
Before heading totally back into Sevilla, we stopped at a supermarket in a mall to get some water. The water was warm so we stowed it under the ice bags on sale and went to use the bathroom before buying them. 15 minutes later, water wasn’t too much better. Josh, in his brilliance, bought a 1.50 euro box of 10 chocolate covered vanilla ice cream bars. The name: Crocan Sticks, the color of the “Vanilla” ice cream: yellow…I choked down two, as did Brianna, and Vanessa took care of one. Josh handled the other 5 with grace, and then continued to eat dinner a few short hours later...
Going into the heart of Sevilla we found a plaza market which we browsed for a bit, a sex shop where I bought josh a wind-up penis toy, and an H&M outlet with western clothing galore. We randomly met some others from the program soon after, who we had no idea were in Sevilla. They were on there way to a hostel so they could stay the night and head back after the bull fight that they were going to the next day.
For dinner we had a treat. My ‘mom’ had suggested a pizzeria, which was situated in a 7th century home in the middle of the gorgeous Barrio Santa Cruz. We drank wine and beer and ate fantastic Italian food while appearing to be in the 600s.
The Plaza de España was our last stop, and unfortunately the most harmful. I, in my fantasticness, had checked the bus schedule online and, when we arrived in Sevilla, neglected to follow Vanessa’s advice of going and actually checking the schedule again. The last bus to Cadiz, which we thought left at 10:45, left at 10...meaning that when we got there at 10:20, ready to go, the bus was long gone. The schedule online had not been updated and had changed from Summer times to Winter times, hence the earlier departure. What to do, what to do, what to do. Hostel? Naaah. Stay up till 7AM and take the first bus home? Much better idea! Having made that wonderful decision, we headed back into town to hopefully find an internet café to check the UW football game score.
We spent the first few hours in a bar playing cards and having a few drinks, the next ones getting eaten alive in a park by mosquitoes, and the last few playing Frisbee and dosing on the bus station steps until their doors opened at 6AM. To add a little icing to the cake, I lost my return ticket sometime in the night and ended up having to buy another for 10 euro.
Regardless, all in all the trip rocked. The sights were great, I had good company, and Sevilla is a really fun city. The night wasn’t too restful, but we made sure to make up for it with some good beach hours the next day and lots of sleep.
When we got there and oriented ourself we headed straight for Sevilla’s main tourist attraction, El Catedral. The cathedral was built in the 7th century and is not only enormous but covered with carvings and filled with gorgeous sculptures, stained glasses windows, golden art, and other similarly ancient things. Many many many many pictures were taken, though not being allowed to use a flash was a little difficult. Josh was muy enfadado (angry) as blurry pictures were taken one after another. After seeing the main halls we climbed the tower of the cathedral and took some time to scan the Sevilla skyline. The barrio Santa Cruz, an older, quaint and gorgeous part of town was next to the cathedral and we could see a lot of the great architecture from that tower.
Lunch was our next item on the agenda. Now, my ‘mom’ packed me enough food for about 8 meals in one bag for this one day trip, meaning that I had more than enough to share around. The most common bocadillo (sub-sandwich) is one that has a tortilla de patata inside of it. A tortilla de patata is a mixture of potatoes, ham, and salt held together with an eggy mixture and then fried. It appears to be more or less a potato pancake – which we then eat in a sandwich. Despite it being a little odd, it tastes fantastic. That came with another sandwich (both were huge by the way) of ham and cheese, cheetos, juice, more juice, an apple, and a chocolate croissant. Damn what a meal, one eaten underneath a statue of the Immaculate Conception (coincidence?).
Our next stop was the arena de torros to see if there was a bullfight, but unfortunately the fight we though was Saturday was Sunday and we were only planning on staying in Sevilla for the day. The river that crosses through Sevilla was right next to us at that point and we walked along it to find café where we could grab a drink and take a rest. The one we found had mediocre juices and fruit shakes which were able to tide us over for a while.
As we walked towards an area of town that looked cool (unfortunately it was more or less a park for hobos) we found underneath the city’s many bridges some of the most amazing graffiti. There were eyes, birds, writing, people, and tons of other crazy cool stuff done with a pretty impressive skill level. After passing all that we ran into a riverside barbeque spot which was quite American. The whole area being kind of creepy (especially the drunken man lying by his trailer trying to get us to come talk to him), we left to head back to the main part of town, finding more graffiti on the way.
Before heading totally back into Sevilla, we stopped at a supermarket in a mall to get some water. The water was warm so we stowed it under the ice bags on sale and went to use the bathroom before buying them. 15 minutes later, water wasn’t too much better. Josh, in his brilliance, bought a 1.50 euro box of 10 chocolate covered vanilla ice cream bars. The name: Crocan Sticks, the color of the “Vanilla” ice cream: yellow…I choked down two, as did Brianna, and Vanessa took care of one. Josh handled the other 5 with grace, and then continued to eat dinner a few short hours later...
Going into the heart of Sevilla we found a plaza market which we browsed for a bit, a sex shop where I bought josh a wind-up penis toy, and an H&M outlet with western clothing galore. We randomly met some others from the program soon after, who we had no idea were in Sevilla. They were on there way to a hostel so they could stay the night and head back after the bull fight that they were going to the next day.
For dinner we had a treat. My ‘mom’ had suggested a pizzeria, which was situated in a 7th century home in the middle of the gorgeous Barrio Santa Cruz. We drank wine and beer and ate fantastic Italian food while appearing to be in the 600s.
The Plaza de España was our last stop, and unfortunately the most harmful. I, in my fantasticness, had checked the bus schedule online and, when we arrived in Sevilla, neglected to follow Vanessa’s advice of going and actually checking the schedule again. The last bus to Cadiz, which we thought left at 10:45, left at 10...meaning that when we got there at 10:20, ready to go, the bus was long gone. The schedule online had not been updated and had changed from Summer times to Winter times, hence the earlier departure. What to do, what to do, what to do. Hostel? Naaah. Stay up till 7AM and take the first bus home? Much better idea! Having made that wonderful decision, we headed back into town to hopefully find an internet café to check the UW football game score.
We spent the first few hours in a bar playing cards and having a few drinks, the next ones getting eaten alive in a park by mosquitoes, and the last few playing Frisbee and dosing on the bus station steps until their doors opened at 6AM. To add a little icing to the cake, I lost my return ticket sometime in the night and ended up having to buy another for 10 euro.
Regardless, all in all the trip rocked. The sights were great, I had good company, and Sevilla is a really fun city. The night wasn’t too restful, but we made sure to make up for it with some good beach hours the next day and lots of sleep.
viernes, 14 de septiembre de 2007
09-11/14-07ToTheUni!
Last day of K2 (intensive Spanish classes) with our amazingly awesome teacher Anais. She, in her amazingness, took us to the central market to walk around and give us a little tour. She took us to see the invisible swordfish (there are usually half-swordfishes hanging from hooks in the market but the stall was on vacation). The market is pretty great. There are tons of vendors selling tons of crazy stuff. I love how that type of market can be mixed into the explosion of development and technology that is Spain.
Classes finally were going to start! For the first week we are required to attend every single class (4.5 hours a day, straight). Our first class was cancelled meaning the night before was a night on the town. I went yet again to the Irish pub with millions of people from the program but left soon after with some friends who took us to a Gay bar. Now, it would have been tons of fun had the place not been filled with old men, not dancing. To top it all off, as we walked in and started up the empty dance floor, they all sat there watching us with “hungry” eyes. Now since not even one of the 3 gay guys I was there with was remotely interested, we QUICKLY exited and headed up the street to a bar I knew and has become a favorite.
The first class of Thursday, History of Art, was interesting and surprisingly easy to comprehend despite its complete Spanish content. I can see that my Spanish comprehension has gone leap years since getting here though I REALLY need to get the vocab on a college level since the words used are now more complicated and not a given that they’ll be used the same. Though I though that the class was going to super boring (even though it’s exciting having classes in Spanish), it actually was pretty interesting considering the amount of history art contains. Styles and plain art aren’t too interesting to me, but why they did what they did (intersections of cultures/current political situations/etc.) and the intersection of art and intelligence/technological development are great and seem to be incorporated into the class.
The next day we started our college language classes with a really nice and young professor by the name of Victor. He seems to have planed a curriculum similar to K2 where we learn vocab in bulk, cement correct grammar, and learn little by little more about Cadiz. We found out that in October the city all of a sudden changes as the Spanish university term starts. All the students move back in and the streets and bars become a little more crowded. Cadiz is more or less a college town it seems and I can’t wait to see the change in nightlife that the Uni of Cadiz brings, as well as meet all the people that come with.
After a few rainy days, back came the sun to burn the white out of us. I’ve been talking a lot more with my ‘parents’ here. They’re still great folk and the convo’s range from 15th century Spain and global warming to raising kids and the ‘mothers’ of other kids in the program. I have a sneaking suspicion that my ‘mom’ is one of the best and I couldn’t be happier (unless I, of course I was being taken care of by you “real mom” ☺ ). My ‘dad’ gave me a little bit of the scoop on Sevilla so that Saturday I could get out of Cadiz for a bit and give northern Andalucia’s tourist center a second look.
Now during these first few days of school and the couple nights before I had gone out quite a bit just to be sure to squeeze in as much fun as possible before actual work had to be done. I went out Tuesday and Wednesday….and Thursday - and you can’t not go out on a Friday. Friday, though, was quite a burn out. In my half asleep state I started home only a few hours in (making sure to break Vanessa’s flip flop on the way) and got back at an early 3:30.
Classes finally were going to start! For the first week we are required to attend every single class (4.5 hours a day, straight). Our first class was cancelled meaning the night before was a night on the town. I went yet again to the Irish pub with millions of people from the program but left soon after with some friends who took us to a Gay bar. Now, it would have been tons of fun had the place not been filled with old men, not dancing. To top it all off, as we walked in and started up the empty dance floor, they all sat there watching us with “hungry” eyes. Now since not even one of the 3 gay guys I was there with was remotely interested, we QUICKLY exited and headed up the street to a bar I knew and has become a favorite.
The first class of Thursday, History of Art, was interesting and surprisingly easy to comprehend despite its complete Spanish content. I can see that my Spanish comprehension has gone leap years since getting here though I REALLY need to get the vocab on a college level since the words used are now more complicated and not a given that they’ll be used the same. Though I though that the class was going to super boring (even though it’s exciting having classes in Spanish), it actually was pretty interesting considering the amount of history art contains. Styles and plain art aren’t too interesting to me, but why they did what they did (intersections of cultures/current political situations/etc.) and the intersection of art and intelligence/technological development are great and seem to be incorporated into the class.
The next day we started our college language classes with a really nice and young professor by the name of Victor. He seems to have planed a curriculum similar to K2 where we learn vocab in bulk, cement correct grammar, and learn little by little more about Cadiz. We found out that in October the city all of a sudden changes as the Spanish university term starts. All the students move back in and the streets and bars become a little more crowded. Cadiz is more or less a college town it seems and I can’t wait to see the change in nightlife that the Uni of Cadiz brings, as well as meet all the people that come with.
After a few rainy days, back came the sun to burn the white out of us. I’ve been talking a lot more with my ‘parents’ here. They’re still great folk and the convo’s range from 15th century Spain and global warming to raising kids and the ‘mothers’ of other kids in the program. I have a sneaking suspicion that my ‘mom’ is one of the best and I couldn’t be happier (unless I, of course I was being taken care of by you “real mom” ☺ ). My ‘dad’ gave me a little bit of the scoop on Sevilla so that Saturday I could get out of Cadiz for a bit and give northern Andalucia’s tourist center a second look.
Now during these first few days of school and the couple nights before I had gone out quite a bit just to be sure to squeeze in as much fun as possible before actual work had to be done. I went out Tuesday and Wednesday….and Thursday - and you can’t not go out on a Friday. Friday, though, was quite a burn out. In my half asleep state I started home only a few hours in (making sure to break Vanessa’s flip flop on the way) and got back at an early 3:30.
lunes, 10 de septiembre de 2007
09-10-07Baloncesto
Today all of us in the program got back together to talk about how the families we have been staying with have treated us and whether they have honored the contracts they signed before taking us in. I didn’t have many complaints, but a few others did. Little things and big things. After listening to lots of complaining, I talked to Rita about my honors projects and such and found out that I might actually get to take a class with the Spanish students! Woooo!
After the university and lunch I took it easy for a while and talked to my ‘parents’ for a while. My ‘mom’ I make nervous I think due to my eating habits. I don’t eat as much as she wishes I would, and there are a few things (again FEW) that I don’t eat but she doesn’t want to make a mistake! Really sweet woman.
In the evening I went for a run and perhaps to find a game of something to join. Soccer games were everywhere but looked quite exclusive. I did, though, finally manage to find a basketball game.
I was invited to play as soon as I got there. The games are done quite a bit differently. First off, there is no checking of the ball. Second, contact in ANY WAY AT ALL was a foul. It was quite the downer. It was frustrating, since what would be a completely ignored in the US was a foul no matter what in Spain. Lastly, they were all pretty bad. A couple could rebound, a couple could shoot, the rest though…eeeeh. After playing some American style aggressive basketball I was nicknamed Kirilenko (after the NBA player). A little later though, I became giri (Cadiz slang for a Nordic Person). It was difficult for me to talk to them bccuase it was my first interaction with people my age in Spain and I really didn’t know much basketball terminology in Spanish nor many congratulatory phrases. Give me a couple more games to learn.
That night though, oooh man was it exciting. Dinner, homework, and sleep.
After the university and lunch I took it easy for a while and talked to my ‘parents’ for a while. My ‘mom’ I make nervous I think due to my eating habits. I don’t eat as much as she wishes I would, and there are a few things (again FEW) that I don’t eat but she doesn’t want to make a mistake! Really sweet woman.
In the evening I went for a run and perhaps to find a game of something to join. Soccer games were everywhere but looked quite exclusive. I did, though, finally manage to find a basketball game.
I was invited to play as soon as I got there. The games are done quite a bit differently. First off, there is no checking of the ball. Second, contact in ANY WAY AT ALL was a foul. It was quite the downer. It was frustrating, since what would be a completely ignored in the US was a foul no matter what in Spain. Lastly, they were all pretty bad. A couple could rebound, a couple could shoot, the rest though…eeeeh. After playing some American style aggressive basketball I was nicknamed Kirilenko (after the NBA player). A little later though, I became giri (Cadiz slang for a Nordic Person). It was difficult for me to talk to them bccuase it was my first interaction with people my age in Spain and I really didn’t know much basketball terminology in Spanish nor many congratulatory phrases. Give me a couple more games to learn.
That night though, oooh man was it exciting. Dinner, homework, and sleep.
domingo, 9 de septiembre de 2007
09-09-07CadizVsSalamanca
I again went to the beach to recover, but after I did some playing around on the Internet. My entire beach experience that day was in the hope of obtaining some sort of tan. Unfortunately, I have yet to obtain such a tan.
Later on there was a game between Cadiz’s segunda liga team and Salamanca’s. A few of us went to a bar in a plaza to watch it. It was great cheering with the locals. Since it was the segunda liga and not primera liga they certainly played harder and were more fun to watch. The best part though, Cadiz won, 1-0 (beautiful header off of a cross into the box)!
Afterward, off to the Cathedral I went to steal wireless Internet again. Still feels like I’m raping history using technology.
Later on there was a game between Cadiz’s segunda liga team and Salamanca’s. A few of us went to a bar in a plaza to watch it. It was great cheering with the locals. Since it was the segunda liga and not primera liga they certainly played harder and were more fun to watch. The best part though, Cadiz won, 1-0 (beautiful header off of a cross into the box)!
Afterward, off to the Cathedral I went to steal wireless Internet again. Still feels like I’m raping history using technology.
sábado, 8 de septiembre de 2007
09-08-07MasFutbol
After a looong sleep (6 – 12:30) and a tasty lunch I hit up the beach with more intention of playing some soccer. John, a little … sick … from the night before didn’t come with me to play. Instead, when I got there, I found some Italians, I found some Spaniards, and I found Josh. We played for a while on the beach, again – great times.
Later, after earning the title of “maximo goledor” I went home to take a shower, put on some nice clothes, and go with my ‘mom’ to an absolutely amazing Flamenco show. Again, absolutely fantastic. My ‘mom’, a Flamenco instructor herself, was herself excited. The dance was called “Cadiz” and had a theme which was the city itself. I went with my ‘mom’ and two other women, as well as Josh. We sat in “el paraiso” (paradise) -which was more or less the nosebleed seats but it felt really authentically Spanish. The women that came with my ‘mom’ were hilarious and lively. I got discourses on everything that was occurring (which really helped since Josh and I understood VERY little). The theater was gorgeous, slightly circular with a deep stage. It was a FANTASTIC experience.
After that we went off to an Irish pub named O’Connell’s where we found approximately 70% of the people in our program hanging out. After talking for a bit and hearing too much English I went over to talk to some Gaditanos I saw who looked friendly. They were actually super nice and really fun to hang out with. The Spanish was flowing and after joking around and learning some useful bad words and phrases - ☺ - the guys took me to a club nearby which normally costs 10 euros to get in, but the guys I was with (Hugo and Javi) got me in for free. Pretty awesome! The club had great music and atmosphere but roasted us alive. It was at least 100 degrees in there. After a little dancing and a lot of sweating I headed home.
Later, after earning the title of “maximo goledor” I went home to take a shower, put on some nice clothes, and go with my ‘mom’ to an absolutely amazing Flamenco show. Again, absolutely fantastic. My ‘mom’, a Flamenco instructor herself, was herself excited. The dance was called “Cadiz” and had a theme which was the city itself. I went with my ‘mom’ and two other women, as well as Josh. We sat in “el paraiso” (paradise) -which was more or less the nosebleed seats but it felt really authentically Spanish. The women that came with my ‘mom’ were hilarious and lively. I got discourses on everything that was occurring (which really helped since Josh and I understood VERY little). The theater was gorgeous, slightly circular with a deep stage. It was a FANTASTIC experience.
After that we went off to an Irish pub named O’Connell’s where we found approximately 70% of the people in our program hanging out. After talking for a bit and hearing too much English I went over to talk to some Gaditanos I saw who looked friendly. They were actually super nice and really fun to hang out with. The Spanish was flowing and after joking around and learning some useful bad words and phrases - ☺ - the guys took me to a club nearby which normally costs 10 euros to get in, but the guys I was with (Hugo and Javi) got me in for free. Pretty awesome! The club had great music and atmosphere but roasted us alive. It was at least 100 degrees in there. After a little dancing and a lot of sweating I headed home.
viernes, 7 de septiembre de 2007
09-07-07FlamencoYLaPunta
Today was yet another fun day of class. Our teacher, Anais, keeps us going at a slow pace but we learn fantastically since it’s a fun atmosphere and we’re all engaged and trying earnestly to get better. We’ve gone through some important topics, reviewing each (ser vs. estar, past perfect, preterit, imperfect, their differences). Also, we get a good dose daily of words to know in Spain!
That night we went to a Flamenco show in a plaza and it was absolutely packed. Dancers were good, but not as good as I would see the next night. That night we went out to La Punta which is more or less a strip of dock that consists of many many many discotecas (clubs). We danced and chatted, met some Gaditanos, and then headed home. Sadly on the way home (at 5:30) Josh, Erin and I saw something quite sad. A cat was dying on the side of street. It was bleeding out of the mouth. There was not much we could do being new in the city and, on top of not knowing where any vets were, the fact that Gaditanos do not generally like cats.
That night we went to a Flamenco show in a plaza and it was absolutely packed. Dancers were good, but not as good as I would see the next night. That night we went out to La Punta which is more or less a strip of dock that consists of many many many discotecas (clubs). We danced and chatted, met some Gaditanos, and then headed home. Sadly on the way home (at 5:30) Josh, Erin and I saw something quite sad. A cat was dying on the side of street. It was bleeding out of the mouth. There was not much we could do being new in the city and, on top of not knowing where any vets were, the fact that Gaditanos do not generally like cats.
jueves, 6 de septiembre de 2007
09-06-07PrimerasTapas
More pan tostada for breakfat, some class, more food, some beach, and finally some soccer!!
After class I headed to the beach and ended up playing with a few of the younger kids on the beach who were friends with the ‘little brother’ of someone in the program. After we (3 Americans and a Turk) started winning they became quite agitated. The result - lots of messing around by them so as to make the game slightly ridiculous. I guess it wasn’t fair of us to be beating them at their own sport! Excessive pride starts young in Spain. My knee, with the MCL I recently sprained, held up really well (I should not have been playing yet since I still have a good few months of rehab left, but I couldn’t help it).
That night I went out again to have some tapas for my first time since getting to Spain. At home I have a lot of the foods that are normally served at tapas restaurants but there are many many to try. We had three things – tortillas de patata, broquetes (little pickled fish which are sort of like sardines), and pan con lomo. All were very good, even the fish though I only had one.
Eating here in Spain has been something I feared at one point and now I have come to embrace it as a fantastic experience. My mind has really opened up in the last 6 months or so to new foods, partially due the fact that I realize that the taste of food is not as important as I once thought. Though wonderful when done well, food is good in many forms and I might as well give every one a chance to grow on me. Here I also tried grouper and found that it is a decent tasting fish as well. My mother attends to my dislike of foods carefully, always providing alternatives to what I might dislike. It creates a healthy environment for tasting new foods!
After class I headed to the beach and ended up playing with a few of the younger kids on the beach who were friends with the ‘little brother’ of someone in the program. After we (3 Americans and a Turk) started winning they became quite agitated. The result - lots of messing around by them so as to make the game slightly ridiculous. I guess it wasn’t fair of us to be beating them at their own sport! Excessive pride starts young in Spain. My knee, with the MCL I recently sprained, held up really well (I should not have been playing yet since I still have a good few months of rehab left, but I couldn’t help it).
That night I went out again to have some tapas for my first time since getting to Spain. At home I have a lot of the foods that are normally served at tapas restaurants but there are many many to try. We had three things – tortillas de patata, broquetes (little pickled fish which are sort of like sardines), and pan con lomo. All were very good, even the fish though I only had one.
Eating here in Spain has been something I feared at one point and now I have come to embrace it as a fantastic experience. My mind has really opened up in the last 6 months or so to new foods, partially due the fact that I realize that the taste of food is not as important as I once thought. Though wonderful when done well, food is good in many forms and I might as well give every one a chance to grow on me. Here I also tried grouper and found that it is a decent tasting fish as well. My mother attends to my dislike of foods carefully, always providing alternatives to what I might dislike. It creates a healthy environment for tasting new foods!
miércoles, 5 de septiembre de 2007
09-05-07SomeHistory
After class today I skipped on the beach to take a break from the sun. The tan is coming, but a burn needs to be avoided. Before heading home, Josh, Stephanie, Erin, and I went on a little walk around the city. We picked up a little guide to taparias around Cadiz as well as some coupons. Then, we went in search of some history.
Cadiz has quite a wealth of historical background. I have many many places to check out. Today we went first to a Roman theater dated back to 50 BC or so and then to a cathedral which is tucked into the side of the city. Both had tons of history and great artifacts and architecture. I then sat on the steps of the huge Cathedral to do some Internet surfing.
I find it fascinating that so much history can be intertwined with an ever-growing flood of technology. The fact that I can find multiple wireless networks no matter where I sit has really opened my eyes to the extent Spain is advancing, and the speed. A short 3 years ago wireless Internet at home was almost unheard of. I guess that along with all the economic changes that came with the European Union, the Internet usage finally caught up. We were told that using the Internet would be hard at home since the time of usage costs tons, but here at my house we have cable Internet with relatively decent speed. Most important, though, is a constant connection which is what most of us have in the US. Internet cafes, which before were EVERYWHERE in Spain are more scarce and contain fewer computers. Ah, the speed of technology…
After the day of walking around we went home, had some lunch, and took a nice siesta. That night we tried out the Mexican restaurant near my house. The food was good but nothing special. What was a little strange was the reaction I got from the Spanish waitress. She did not take kindly to me after I got her attention using “Señora” instead of “Señorita”. The service from that point on – not so good. Ah, all the things you learn day by day.
That night after dinner I went out with a couple friends and after arriving at the edge of the old town found a few lost Belgians who came with us to find a nice bar. We sat around and had a few drinks, chatting in a mix of Spanish, French, and English. It was great to be meeting people of different cultures, and talking/learning a little more about them. At about 2 or so I decided to head home so I could get a little rest before school the next day.
Cadiz has quite a wealth of historical background. I have many many places to check out. Today we went first to a Roman theater dated back to 50 BC or so and then to a cathedral which is tucked into the side of the city. Both had tons of history and great artifacts and architecture. I then sat on the steps of the huge Cathedral to do some Internet surfing.
I find it fascinating that so much history can be intertwined with an ever-growing flood of technology. The fact that I can find multiple wireless networks no matter where I sit has really opened my eyes to the extent Spain is advancing, and the speed. A short 3 years ago wireless Internet at home was almost unheard of. I guess that along with all the economic changes that came with the European Union, the Internet usage finally caught up. We were told that using the Internet would be hard at home since the time of usage costs tons, but here at my house we have cable Internet with relatively decent speed. Most important, though, is a constant connection which is what most of us have in the US. Internet cafes, which before were EVERYWHERE in Spain are more scarce and contain fewer computers. Ah, the speed of technology…
After the day of walking around we went home, had some lunch, and took a nice siesta. That night we tried out the Mexican restaurant near my house. The food was good but nothing special. What was a little strange was the reaction I got from the Spanish waitress. She did not take kindly to me after I got her attention using “Señora” instead of “Señorita”. The service from that point on – not so good. Ah, all the things you learn day by day.
That night after dinner I went out with a couple friends and after arriving at the edge of the old town found a few lost Belgians who came with us to find a nice bar. We sat around and had a few drinks, chatting in a mix of Spanish, French, and English. It was great to be meeting people of different cultures, and talking/learning a little more about them. At about 2 or so I decided to head home so I could get a little rest before school the next day.
martes, 4 de septiembre de 2007
lunes, 3 de septiembre de 2007
09-03-07FirstDay
Aqui estamos en America. Aqui estamos en America! Aqui estamos en Americaaaaaaaa!
We’re not onto actual learning and Spanish. We’re taking classes through a ‘Spanish for foreigners’ school where we’re being tested for skill level. And, despite getting along in the streets fine with my purely conversational Spanish, I didn’t do so hot in class. I’ve been put in the lowest level of Spanish our group has and I’m quite sure it is deserved. We had a short paragraph for homework, which was nothing horrible.
Later on we met up with the group to fill out more documents than I ever imagined would be necessary. It was the same with the visa for entering the country, lots of papers to fill out. Perhaps it is a socialism thing, bureaucracy seems to be rampant. A lot of it is European Union regulation; being part of such a large bureaucracy requires a lot of double-checking. Nevertheless, people seem not to mind it.
That night I got some pictures I needed for school and another ice cream (Watermelon flavor – good taste but not a good idea for ice cream). Then home for dinner, homework, and sleep.
We’re not onto actual learning and Spanish. We’re taking classes through a ‘Spanish for foreigners’ school where we’re being tested for skill level. And, despite getting along in the streets fine with my purely conversational Spanish, I didn’t do so hot in class. I’ve been put in the lowest level of Spanish our group has and I’m quite sure it is deserved. We had a short paragraph for homework, which was nothing horrible.
Later on we met up with the group to fill out more documents than I ever imagined would be necessary. It was the same with the visa for entering the country, lots of papers to fill out. Perhaps it is a socialism thing, bureaucracy seems to be rampant. A lot of it is European Union regulation; being part of such a large bureaucracy requires a lot of double-checking. Nevertheless, people seem not to mind it.
That night I got some pictures I needed for school and another ice cream (Watermelon flavor – good taste but not a good idea for ice cream). Then home for dinner, homework, and sleep.
domingo, 2 de septiembre de 2007
09-02-07LazySunday
Sunday was lazy, woke up late, sent some emails, went to the beach, etc. Tried to do a little more thinking about working on the projects I have planned but I’m still in the process of getting my head around speaking Spanish well. I had an ice cream, ate some dinner, and went to bed so I could get up and go to class at 9.
sábado, 1 de septiembre de 2007
09-01-07 Gadizanos
The city of Cadiz is actually much larger than I had imagined. The ‘Facultad’ where I’ll be studying is actually quite a walk (30 minutes). There are two parts to the town – El Casco Antiguo (the old part) and La Avenida (the new part). I live in the new part, but very close to the old part so walking to both is feasible for me. It isn’t as easy to get around as I had hoped but it works. Buses run pretty often and we’re occasionally given a Bonobus pass, valid for 10 bus rides, but I feel guilty using it since I live close enough to make my walk to school a casual stroll. People from the program are spread out all over the city, many at the end of the new part (which is pretty much a long strip) and many in the old part (a circular area with very intimate housing style). I am just three blocks from the beach - which makes taking in a little sun and taking a dip in the Mediterranean/Atlantic easy.
The streets of the old part of town are fascinating. They crisscross all over the place in a web of ins and outs. There are plazas tucked into corners all over the place and churches throughout. The town is almost completely Catholic but not too strict about whether or not church is attended (thankfully). I’m guessing this is a modern concession, but it seems that in general the people of Cadiz are very open minded and accepting.
To start off our day, my ‘mom’ brought me into town to reunite with the group. We went to a tower upon which we could see most of Cadiz (seeing as the buildings are all similarly stubby). We were taken to a room called La Camara Oscura (the dark chamber) where using a periscope (the first of its kind in all of Spain) we looked around the city and were given sort of a mini tour. The next event – a scavenger hunt! Our group broke up into teams and we proceeded to bring foreign ruin to the tranquility of Cadiz. Since all of our tasks, we appeared to be a disorganized hoard of students roaming the streets in search of various, seemingly unimportant places. We checked the prices of fish, bought stamps, asked questions, and ended with buying drinks at a sidewalk café. Que divertido! The most relaxing part of the day came next – the beach! A few of us went to the beach near my house and relaxed in the sand, swam around, played some Frisbee. Again, the tough life.
Lunch, which came between scavenging and the beach, consisted of a huge pan of paella! It was the best food by far that I’ve had since coming to Cadiz. My extremely thoughtful ‘mom’ put no seafood or fish in it. I eat normally here, yet am constantly hounded by Carmen (mom) to eat more because, as she claims, the Spanish eat a lot and it is Mediterranean and the food is not bad for you. On the other hand, about half of everything I’ve eaten has been fried! I’m so confused! I just go with the flow, eating and trying to get away with my normal amount rather than stuffing myself like she would like to see.
On to the nightlife…
So, when they say that the Spanish stay out late, they mean really late. The typical night consists of dinner, bar hopping, discotecas (club), and mucho divercion. We walked all around town until we found a Cadiz native who took us to a bar he liked and introduced us to all his friends. To avoid being sent home at closing time, we went to another, hidden bar (which had an interesting security system with cameras on the street ensuring nobody saw that we were entering). This bar was open till 7AM ☺. We stayed till 5:30 and I walked home the girls that came with, returned to my house, and fell asleep around 6:30. I got my first taste of meeting gadizanos (Cadiz was long ago Gadiz). The next day, I saw two of the five, and the day after a third. I like that it is a small town when it comes to people.
The streets of the old part of town are fascinating. They crisscross all over the place in a web of ins and outs. There are plazas tucked into corners all over the place and churches throughout. The town is almost completely Catholic but not too strict about whether or not church is attended (thankfully). I’m guessing this is a modern concession, but it seems that in general the people of Cadiz are very open minded and accepting.
To start off our day, my ‘mom’ brought me into town to reunite with the group. We went to a tower upon which we could see most of Cadiz (seeing as the buildings are all similarly stubby). We were taken to a room called La Camara Oscura (the dark chamber) where using a periscope (the first of its kind in all of Spain) we looked around the city and were given sort of a mini tour. The next event – a scavenger hunt! Our group broke up into teams and we proceeded to bring foreign ruin to the tranquility of Cadiz. Since all of our tasks, we appeared to be a disorganized hoard of students roaming the streets in search of various, seemingly unimportant places. We checked the prices of fish, bought stamps, asked questions, and ended with buying drinks at a sidewalk café. Que divertido! The most relaxing part of the day came next – the beach! A few of us went to the beach near my house and relaxed in the sand, swam around, played some Frisbee. Again, the tough life.
Lunch, which came between scavenging and the beach, consisted of a huge pan of paella! It was the best food by far that I’ve had since coming to Cadiz. My extremely thoughtful ‘mom’ put no seafood or fish in it. I eat normally here, yet am constantly hounded by Carmen (mom) to eat more because, as she claims, the Spanish eat a lot and it is Mediterranean and the food is not bad for you. On the other hand, about half of everything I’ve eaten has been fried! I’m so confused! I just go with the flow, eating and trying to get away with my normal amount rather than stuffing myself like she would like to see.
On to the nightlife…
So, when they say that the Spanish stay out late, they mean really late. The typical night consists of dinner, bar hopping, discotecas (club), and mucho divercion. We walked all around town until we found a Cadiz native who took us to a bar he liked and introduced us to all his friends. To avoid being sent home at closing time, we went to another, hidden bar (which had an interesting security system with cameras on the street ensuring nobody saw that we were entering). This bar was open till 7AM ☺. We stayed till 5:30 and I walked home the girls that came with, returned to my house, and fell asleep around 6:30. I got my first taste of meeting gadizanos (Cadiz was long ago Gadiz). The next day, I saw two of the five, and the day after a third. I like that it is a small town when it comes to people.
viernes, 31 de agosto de 2007
09-01-07 To Cadiz!
I went to bed around 12 and obsessively woke up to check what time it was. I forgot to bring any sort of alarm device and my clock was the computer. I probably spent about half of the hours in bed trying to fall back asleep, waking up a good 20 times or so. At 5 I finally gave up, and got ready to catch the metro at 6 to the airport.
Walking around town at 6 AM was an experience in itself due to the large number of people still out and about. The first train of the morning was much fuller than I thought it would be, but I with one glance around I figured out why. Many heads were drooping onto shoulders, people were yawning, and all were catching the train home after a long night of festivity.
At the airport I met up with Josh, Michaela, and Jessica who were taking the same early flight to Jerez de la Frontera. After a short flight we arrived fresh and ready for some adventure, well at least Josh and I did. Michaela and Jessica were not very into exploring. Josh and I convinced them to come with us into town with us since we had a good few hours to kill. The tourism lady gave us some instructions and off we went, hauling all of our crap into town. At the bus station in town, where we were told we could leave our things a guard with the most ridiculously hard to understand accent told us that a new ordinance made it so that we can’t leave bags there, effectively killing our adventuresome escapade since trekking around town with rollers the size of small cows wasn’t going to be easy. We found two more programees at the bus station who returned with us to the airport where we found even more programees!
That evening we arrived in Cadiz and we were whisked away by our different families. Since my ‘mom’ was feeling poorly my ‘dad’ picked me up. Celso, a retired captain in the navy who was once the top assistant to the governor of all of the Cadiz province, is a fantastic man who loves to laugh and joke. Having served in the navy he has traveled to many places and was even stationed in the United States for a while. Carmen is also great. She works as a flamenco teacher in and around town. Her cooking is fantastic and she feeds me way too much frequently. Her most endearing quality is how much she enjoys talking. Oh man do I get an earful about everything. It is occasionally excessive but never annoying. They are both intelligent, have intelligent kids, and entertain my developing Spanish as well as wandering mind.
After some lunch a nap, some dinner, and a walk I slept soundly for the first time in a few days quite comfortably and certainly content with my situation here in Cadiz.
Walking around town at 6 AM was an experience in itself due to the large number of people still out and about. The first train of the morning was much fuller than I thought it would be, but I with one glance around I figured out why. Many heads were drooping onto shoulders, people were yawning, and all were catching the train home after a long night of festivity.
At the airport I met up with Josh, Michaela, and Jessica who were taking the same early flight to Jerez de la Frontera. After a short flight we arrived fresh and ready for some adventure, well at least Josh and I did. Michaela and Jessica were not very into exploring. Josh and I convinced them to come with us into town with us since we had a good few hours to kill. The tourism lady gave us some instructions and off we went, hauling all of our crap into town. At the bus station in town, where we were told we could leave our things a guard with the most ridiculously hard to understand accent told us that a new ordinance made it so that we can’t leave bags there, effectively killing our adventuresome escapade since trekking around town with rollers the size of small cows wasn’t going to be easy. We found two more programees at the bus station who returned with us to the airport where we found even more programees!
That evening we arrived in Cadiz and we were whisked away by our different families. Since my ‘mom’ was feeling poorly my ‘dad’ picked me up. Celso, a retired captain in the navy who was once the top assistant to the governor of all of the Cadiz province, is a fantastic man who loves to laugh and joke. Having served in the navy he has traveled to many places and was even stationed in the United States for a while. Carmen is also great. She works as a flamenco teacher in and around town. Her cooking is fantastic and she feeds me way too much frequently. Her most endearing quality is how much she enjoys talking. Oh man do I get an earful about everything. It is occasionally excessive but never annoying. They are both intelligent, have intelligent kids, and entertain my developing Spanish as well as wandering mind.
After some lunch a nap, some dinner, and a walk I slept soundly for the first time in a few days quite comfortably and certainly content with my situation here in Cadiz.
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