¡Setas!

Everyone in my program is required to be a grupo de interés (interest group) that allows them to get to learn about a specific cultural element of Spain on a more in-depth level.  The groups meet once every week or two and take students on small excursions or bring in guest speakers, etc. At the end of the semester, every group goes on a three-day trip.  Many people picked their groups based on where the trip was.  I was torn between which groups to choose because most of them seemed very interesting. Originally, I decided to pick the group about gastronomía which was all about food and was going to do many hands-on activities, but last minute, I decided to pick a group about Sevilla in order to learn more about the city I’m living in and to travel to Morocco (mainly for the trip).  After waiting in line to sign-up and having people be allowed to cut because they had to go to class, I missed the last spot in the Sevilla group by one person.  So I went with gastronomía.  We are going to Valencia, which should be awesome as well, but there is slightly less mystical appeal…Well, all I can say at this point is that I was destined to be in this interest group and I couldn’t be happier! My interest group is the best one, hands down! While the other groups meet at random times to sit in a classroom and watch a PowerPoint presentation, we are going to a cooking class or visiting an old alcohol distillery to learn about the new cooking school there.  We have the best leaders, and we always get tapas or food at the end, because it allows us to try new things and actually converse with the Spanish students that are always invited to join us.  

So let me tell you what my group did yesterday.

We traveled to the countryside to hike a mountain and pick mushrooms…and then cook them!!!

I cannot even explain how much I enjoyed this experience.  But naturally, I will try.

We traveled to Aracena, a small pueblo north of Sevilla.  The environment was wonderful, and reminded me that I truly am a country girl at heart…It was a small village of white-washed houses and cobble stone streets. It was tranquil.  As we breathed in the fresh air (as opposed to the fumes of cigarette smoke everywhere in the city), the smell of wood-burning chimneys wafted our way.  An older housewife was sweeping the soapy water she had mopped the floors with into the street. 

When we arrived at the gates of the forest preserve area, we hiked the winding path, wicker baskets and pocket knives in hand, passing the small farm homes enclosed by stone fences.  Our extremely knowledgeable guide pointed out everything he could to teach us.

Mint and peppermint plants.  We stopped to smell the leaves. 

A tree containing small alcoholic fruits that when consumed in large amounts can actually make someone drunk.  We tried a few of the ripe ones. 

Chestnut trees (they’re much better when roasted…the chestnuts, not the trees).

Setas (the wild mushrooms of different varieties).  There were 92 different species in the forest preserve.  He showed us how to identify them, where they normally grow, and how to cut them.  If you cut them too low, they cannot grow back fully again in that place.  If you take them when they are too old, they are dry and harder to identify, etc…Apparently, one of the mushrooms that someone picked is so toxic that when consumed, it begins to decompose your body from the inside and will kill you within 7 days!       

We hiked back to the mason/pub where we prepared the mushrooms we had just picked.  On our way, a man was selling fresh fish from the back of his van to the local women…The mushrooms were cooked differently depending on the flavors they naturally contained. Some were sautéed with garlic, cream, and herbs, while others were blended with onion, olive oil, and spices…The best was a creamy mixture with oregano from the local countryside.  I have never tasted better mushrooms!

We thought that we were only going to be eating mushrooms.  Until they brought out platters of chorizo (special slightly spicy sausage) with more bread slices.  We thought that was nice.  And then they brought out salad (the traditional salad with iceberg lettuce, shredded carrots, corn, onion, tomato, and tuna with an olive oil/vinegar dressing).  We were now full. Then they brought out potaje de garbanzos (a stew-like dish containing garbanzo beans, chorizo, and other things…it’s a heavy comfort food dish that is special to the Andalusian mountain side region).  I can honestly say that this is one of the best dishes I have ever had! Unfortunately, not much of this was eaten, because we were all full. Then, they brought out pan-sired pork with French fries. It was delicious. THEN they brought out flan with a little chocolate-coated straw-like cookie (you know what kind I’m talking about)!  I think I ate an entire Thanksgiving feat in one setting!

On our way out, two men were conversing about what was in the trunk of one of their cars: a deer that one of them had hunted and buttered.  The meat was sitting, cut up, in several boxes and the head was resting beside it, waiting to be taken to a local establishment to be hung on the wall….Only in the countryside!

Throughout this excursion, we were accompanied by our guides (María, who is one of the program directors, and Fran, who is one of the program and orientation guides. He’s a student at the university), and their friends. María brought her friend, who brought her 7 month old daughter, Candela (a very Andalús name). So cute. And Fran brought three of his good friends who all go to the university with him. They were all very social and were great to talk to.  Wonderful Spanish practice.

After this, I can probably say that this was one of the best days ever!     

     

Para presumir, hay que sufrir

In case anyone was wondering, I actually typed half of this post two days ago, but my computer decided to overheat and shut itself down, so I lost all of my work. Naturally. But now that I have another opportunity to write, I’m ready to give this a try.

A few days ago, while wandering around El Centro on calle Sierpes (the downtown shopping district), I noticed a woman suddenly scoop up all of the items she was selling, into the sheet they had been displayed on, sling the make-shift sack over her shoulder, and look suspiciously at the other street vendors. In no more than 2 seconds, she took off in the other direction.  Suddenly, a man followed suit and took off after her…Through their mischievous looks, I thought that they were stealing the goods.  I rationed quickly thereafter, however, when I saw the same people on the next street over, that they were competitors trying to seek out the best location to maximize their profits and one moved, the others assumed that they should as well…

I spilled olive oil on my dress.  Because I didn’t notice it right away and then my host mom wasn’t around, I didn’t do anything about it. I hoped for the best, but expected the worst. I believed that it might have been too late to recover.  The next night, while I was eating dinner, my host mom brought out the dress and asked me what had happened. She said that while doing laundry, she noticed a spot. Then, she noticed a second spot farther down. She couldn’t understand how I could be so sloppy!  Of course she was kidding.  I laughed and said that I didn’t know what had happened and had to explain that this was actually quite common for me. She said that she would try to remove the stain, since she hadn’t ironed yet, but didn’t sound very optimistic…The following morning, she held up the dress and showed me that she had gotten the stains out! (At this moment, my host mom reminded me of a house elf in Harry Potter because she’s always working so hard around the house and then she randomly gets excited about things she’s done. Also, I’m reading Harry Potter, and while I’m engrossed in the books, I tend to relate my life events to theirs. Not that I’m a geek or anything…).  I have no idea how she did it. I’m pretty sure my real mom couldn’t have gotten it out, and I know I couldn’t have! ...Dawn?

After 5 long weeks, I finally received my SEVici card in the mail! I completed an application online, printed it out, and mailed it to the correct department in the city.  This card, valid for 1 complete year, cost me approximately 13€.  This card allows me to use the city-wide bike rental system as a means of public transportation.  There are stations located throughout the city, where you check out a bike for 30 minutes at a time and drop it off at any station you want to.  It’s wonderful! I got it the other day and I have already used it about 8 times!  I think every big school in America should have this system!

I got my hair cut. I now have bangs and layers.  My older host sister likes it and one of my intercambios told me that it’s very española. Score! haha  


There are two 15 year-old French students staying at my house for a few days. They are a 5 day study trip to Sevilla and stay with a host family just to sleep, shower, and eat breakfast and dinner. They are sweet girls. They speak very little Spanish and slightly more English. I am sometimes called into the room to try to speak to them in English and then translate it into Spanish for my host mom. It's quite interesting.   

Mission Málaga

Yesterday I journeyed to Málaga, a coastal city about 2 ½ hours away from Sevilla (it is the second largest city in Andalucía, the southern region of Spain). This is the unabridged tale of events.

The Plan:

Wake up to my alarm at 6:15AM. Make breakfast. Walk to the bus station about 10 minutes away from my house to meet my friends at 7:30AM for an 8:00AM bus to Málaga. Read my book for class during the 3 hour bus ride.  Get to Málaga. Take a bus to Nerja, a nearby town, to see the caves. Go back to see the Picasso Museum in Málaga. Eat something. Take the 8:30PM bus back to Sevilla.

The Follow-Through:

I wake up at 9:20AM. Pause. “Is this AM or PM? What?! Who am I kidding, it’s military time! CRAP (edited)!” I call Aisha. I can’t get through to her phone. Is it still worth going, even if I have to buy another ticket to get there? Yes. I cannot trap myself in my house. I planned to go. I’m going!

I get online real quick and look up the next scheduled bus to leave. 12:10PM. I look up the train schedule. 11.10AM. How far away is the train station? Google Maps. By car: 14 min. By foot: 1 hr 20 something min. Bag fully packed? Check. Dressed? Check. Teeth brushed? Check. I leave, the jelly and sugar on the table waiting for me, the bread next to the toaster, and the cup of coffee sitting cold and lonely beside it.  No time to explain to my family and no time to even pee before I leave since my host mom was in the bathroom.

I walk to the corner to call a cab, and by chance, a free taxi drives by! I flag him down and we’re off to the station. 8.60€ later, I arrive.  I find my line and wait. The time dwindles away as the old women in front of me argue with the lady at the counter. The young couple behind me is in a bigger hurry than I am. It is now 10:55AM. My train leaves at 11:10AM and theirs leaves at 11:05AM.  We chatted. I let them go ahead of me. I have enough time to pee. Relief!

I get on the train. Find my seat.  As I take out my reading material, the woman next to me says in English, “Beautiful book.” I told her I was reading it for class. There was silence. Two minutes later, she turns to me again, “The palabras…It’s really wonderful Spanish.” Motivation to read. Thank you nice lady beside me! There is a loud and annoying Spanish family in the car. They think they are funny. The British people beside me disagree. 

I arrive in Málaga at 1:38PM. I call Aisha, but again, cannot get through.  I take a map from the tourist stand in the station and wander out the door, heading for the coast.  I find a bench along the river to eat my bocadillo and plan my route.  I get a call from Aisha on someone else’s phone.  They had gone to see the caves in Nerja, which turned out to be 2 hours away.  They were going to take the bus back and call me when they got back into town. I ventured to Gibralfaro, an old castle up on a hill. I had a rough estimate of how to get there, but wasn’t positive. I followed the signs and hiked up a mountain (not literally, but it was a giant, winding hill! I love hiking, so it was actually quite pleasant).  When I get to the top, I discover that with my student ID, it only cost .60€ to get in! I walked around and took some pictures. The view was definitely worth the climb. Also, it put the location of everything into perspective, so I could find things more easily.

As I start the trek back down, I decide to take the bus so I don’t have to make everyone wait at the museum for me, which is where we planned to meet.  I ask the woman at the stop if the bus would take me near there. She thought so.  I asked the bus driver which stop was closest and he informed me when we reached it.  How nice! I walk in the direction he pointed me in and then asked a man giving parking tickets. He pointed me in the right direction. I then asked a woman sitting behind the desk at the entrance of another touristic point of interest. She told me to go the cathedral and ask them because it was nearby. I reached the cathedral and the woman there told me where to go. I arrived before the group, which surprised me because they said they were only 10 minutes away. Apparently not true. 

When we met, we found a cheap and really good Middle Eastern take-out place to eat. I’m not exactly sure what I had, but it was like a gyro hybrid.  We then went to the museum, which does not house Picasso’s famous works, but is the 3^rd most visited Picasso museum because Málaga was his birthplace.  I was pleasantly surprised.  There was a temporary exhibition on toys that he had made. It was so cool! They had security guards everywhere in there, who yell at you for any contact you make with things. Sorry I bumped the wall! My bad…After the museum we got ice cream.  Not lying, this was the best ice cream I have ever had, and I have had my fair share of ice cream! I got pistachio and raspberry. The flavors were so rich…mmmmmm.

We headed back to the bus station, and on our way encountered Barney (the purple dinosaur) and Spiderman on the same street! Never in my life would I have predicted this to happen.  Spiderman was making balloon swords and small children were dueling in the plaza.  We may or may not have cheered on a little boy battling his sister…We made the bus and had a smooth ride home.  Upon arrival, Aisha and I decided to get churros con chocolate at Gofres, the stand at Puente de Triana in Sevilla (home of the best churros). This was a good decision.  We walked around and chatted. Then, we found ourselves on a plaza bench talking about life and family until 2:30AM.

When I got home, my family was fast asleep, so I got to avoid a possibly awkward discussion about why I ran out of the house that morning without breakfast (I explained this morning and no one cared).  All was well. Quite a nice day.  Being able to figure everything out, make quick decisions and stick to them, and communicate with so many random people in Spanish was a nice confidence booster.  I love applying my skills and I felt like a grown-up!                   

why I love walking...

I love to walk to places. I love to people-watch. I love enjoying the scenery. Walking 30-40 minutes to class and back at least two separate times a day takes up a significant amount of time, but definitely has its perks. I realized that I walk on average about 2 to 3 hours each day. No wonder I see so many random things. Thursday afternoon was pretty monumental.

The way to class:

- 2 whistling men
- 1 man playing a harmonica-type instrument, on a bike, in a small street.
- A saxophone and accordion duet (a very unique and somewhat enjoyable sound...who knew?!)
- A camera crew preparing for some sort of news special (my guess)...on the corner where that little shop was with the moldy pastries. The man working had many things laid out and displayed to look nice. I wasn't fooled!

The way home from class:

- A homeless woman peeing on the sidewalk. (I now have to stop and wonder if all of the poop on the sidewalks are from dogs...I guess I shouldn't assume these things.)

El mundo es un pañuelo

This week has consisted of many small obstacles and mini triumphs.  I’ve experienced highs and lows, but have made progress, nonetheless.  

Sunday:

 I chatted with many great friends from the States on Skype.  We were actually able to catch up and enjoy each other’s presence.

Monday:

At lunch, I tuned out what my host family was saying because they were not talking to me, and the T.V. was on too loud to focus.  All of a sudden, my older sister turned to me and asked a question, as if I had been listening all along.  I missed the actual question, so I didn’t know what was going on…I thought my sister was telling me that her husband thought I was looking thinner.  Then, I thought she meant that he was wondering if I was trying to get thinner.  My madre then said something about me not really being fat and my sister agreed obligingly.  My host dad put words in my mouth, saying that I was happy with my body and that when you lose a lot of weight, you just have to buy new clothes, which is a pain.  Basically, I was indirectly called fat.  Spaniards are typically very direct when it comes to appearance and call Americans “gordo” in an endearing manner.  But still, they say what they mean and mean what they say, so they clearly think something. Haha…what the heck?

My madre now makes me coffee for breakfast!

I realized that I missed the sign-up deadline to go to Córdoba with the study abroad group.  I was super sad. So I emailed one of the directors to see if it would be possible to go anyway. 

Tuesday:

Día de la Hispanidad (aka their version of Columbus Day).  No classes.

My younger host sister told me that I look pretty with my hair worn down. 

I went to IKEA with my host mom, sister, and her boyfriend.  I love IKEA.  So many decorating ideas!

Wednesday:

I checked my emails and found good news and bad news.  Bad news: there are many complications with my proposed class schedule for next semester.  I now don’t know what to do about my Spanish classes or if I can get every class I need in four years.  Good news: I got an email back from one of the directors saying that I could still go to Córdoba if I want to.  I also got a few nice messages via email and facebook. 

On my way to class this morning, a bus driver stopped to let me walk past.  It was a nice feeling.

Lunch was incredible! It was the tomato/onion/pepper type sauce with a fried egg on top.  Love it! Also, postre was a mandarin.  Apparently these are the first of the season, so they are slightly “fuerte” as my dad and sister kept saying (slightly sour).  It was so good!

I decided to get a pastry after class today.  I bought it and took a bite. Then, I discovered mold all over the bottom.  I took it back and the man gave me a different one, but it wasn’t good.  Later, after spending 15,60€ in international stamps and running a few errands, I decided to try the nuts that people are smoking on the streets each day.  It was like “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…”  I had never tried them before, but they were nice.  Until I found a maggot in one of them.  

While running errands, there were two college-aged guys playing a violin and a string bass. They sounded incredible and I was tempted to leave money in their box, but I didn’t. 

Gibraltar. It's almost like we went to England.

A giant rock located on the southern tip of Spain, close to Africa, that is actually a British territory.  There are apes. It is kind of like England. There must be fish and chips because that is a popular dish in England…That is literally what our impression of Gibraltar was before we went.  Claire and I purchased bus tickets ida y vuelta (there and back) for 36€ each and made reservations at a hostal in La Línea, the city right next to Gibraltar in Spain, because we heard that the hostals in Gibraltar were not good and the bus station was nearby.  A private double-room cost us 32€. We packed our backpacks and took a bocadillo (sandwich/sack lunch) and were on our way to catch the bus at 9:30AM.

Upon arrival at the bus station, we encountered a friend of ours from the study abroad program (John, who goes by Anthony, his middle name, but I call him Antonio because it’s more Spanish).  He was traveling by himself. He had a guidebook, so he told us about a bus to take once in Gibraltar, that would take us all the way to Europa Point at the end and would pass all of the other scenic stops along the way. On the 4-hour bus ride (because we made stops to several other cities along the way), there was a large number of stereotypical American exchange students. They were annoying and made us embarrassed to be associated with.  One girl asked us a question in Spanish when she couldn’t find her seat. We said, “We speak English.” The look of relief on her face was priceless.  There were also several very loud speaking Spanish women. Needless to say, we didn’t get much homework done on the ride.

When we arrived in La Línea, we asked an old man (I feel bad saying “old” because in Spanish you cannot use the literal translation for old (viejo) when referring to senior citizens because it is considered derogatory. You say “personas mayores.”)  We found our hostal and entered our room. It was not dirty or unsafe at all, simply simple. These pictures may explain better than I can.

(The room came equiped with a T.V. that was the size of my computer screen. It was not plugged in.)

(Welcome to our cozy little room. Not too bad really. We slept well in those beds.)

(Bathroom.)

(The view outside.)

(The remote. Note the batteries being held in place by tape. We later removed these batteries to use in the remote which controled the air conditioning unit.)

It was at this point that I decided to document the entire trip in pictures.

(Gibraltar)

We walked to Gibraltar and flashed our passports as the guards as we crossed the border into another country.  There was a red telephone booth. It was like England. We then got onto Bus #3, which Antonio had suggested.  We rode it to Europa Point and enjoyed the view. We couldn’t see Africa because it was too cloudy, but it’s very close (14 miles I think).  We sat and chatted for a while. There was an ant transporting a potato chip across the walkway. This sparked an intriguing conversation about perspectives on life. It was enlightening and pleasant.  Thus began my realization that I do not know where I want to be after I graduate college.  Where shall I live? Do I want to settle down right away? I have many dreams and don’t want to sacrifice them so early on. Life happens and plans change all the time. I decided just to go with the flow “let nature take its course.”

(About to cross the border.)

(Europa Point!)

(I like lighthouses.)

(Ant and potato chip.)

(No parking if you're there during all times, or no parking at any time?)

(No worries. They fixed the fence.)

(What Europa Point would look like if the construction was done.)

I wanted fish and chips for dinner. I convinced Claire that this was a good idea. I mean this with all sincerity when I say it, this was on my bucket-list—eating fish and chips in Gibraltar. We asked the bus driver where a good place was to eat. He was very nice and told us when to get off and where to walk to after our stop (Turns out all the bus drivers in Gibraltar were incredibly kind. This was a pleasant experience).  Antonio then called us to invite us to dinner in Casemate’s Square, which was nearby.  We ate at an English pub/restaurant with a live acoustic performance. It was wonderful. We then walked around and enjoyed the evening. We saw tons of people with what looked like jello shots. We then discovered that there was a Subway Shot Bar. I kid you not, a shot bar at the Subway sandwich restaurant.  There were kids, probably around age 14, hanging out there and one of the employees was playing a game similar to hacky-sack with them. It was strange indeed.

(Fish and Chips.)

The next morning, we had McDonald’s breakfast. There were fancy chairs. We sat in them. Naturally. 

(They had a Playplace. We didn't play.)

(Fancy chairs.)

It started to rain. And then it poured. We planned to take a cable car up to see the famous apes. We rode a bus, but missed our stop. The bus driver let us keep riding and told us when to get off.  He even let a woman on the bus before she reached the bus stop she was walking to, so she could get out of the rain. Chivalry still exists! 

(Rain.)

When we arrived at the cable car station, the woman told us that they were not running due to the rain and wind. We decided to pay the extra money to take the taxi tour because we’d only be in Gibraltar once and seeing the apes was a must.  The taxi tour cost us 25€ each, but included admission into the sites we stopped at along the way to the top (this is something the cable car did not do). It turned out to be the greatest decision ever.  Our van contained a man from Australia, two men from England, and the two of us from the U.S. It was fun to represent the English speaking countries.  Not only did we get to see the caves and tunnels (which we knew nothing about), but we learned the history about them and about other random Gibraltar facts. It was fantastic. Our driver/tour guide, like almost everyone in Gibraltar, spoke Spanglish.  He explained that they all learned English at school, which was run exactly like the system in England, and they learn Spanish on the streets.

(We were wet and waiting for the taxi tour.)

(Hercules' pillars...because legend has it Hercules is the god who separated the land of Gibraltar and North Africa so that ships could enter the new world (the Atlantic Ocean). One pillar is on Gibraltar and one is in Africa.)

(Inside the cave. They have concerts in there during the summer because the acoustics are good.)

(Apes! Mamma and baby...they went everywhere. On vans. In the gift shop. Everywhere.)

(Inside the tunnels...originally, slaves created the tunnels by hand (and later they were completed and expanded with the use of machines). these tunnels were created inside the rock of Gibraltar, going all the way around. Every so many meters there was a window in which a cannon was placed. This was a great way for Gibraltar to defend itself against enemies during the war, etc.) 

(A view of Gibraltar and La Linea from the rock.)

(Another view.)

The apes were fun. They are not afraid of people and will steal food from you, if it’s out in the open. Our guide explained to us that the apes were originally introduced to Gibraltar when the Moors from Africa began to take over Spain in 711. Some people believe that the apes were used as mascots to motivate the warriors, but others (including our guide) believe that they were brought as a means of food to feed the troops through travel and to fulfill religious purposes of some sort.  Now, they keep the ape population limited to around 300 and bring in new males from Morocco every few years to prevent inbreeding.

After the tour, we had burgers and milkshakes in honor of our American heritage. They weren’t very good, but they filled our void.

We power walked to the bus station to catch our 4:00PM bus back to Sevilla. We made it with 2 minutes to spare.  At our half-way point where we stop for a break, I had a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice. So good.

A great little trip.              

(You're welcome.)

A Week in Review

As you can see, I’ve gotten behind on my posts.  But, as always, I have a lot to say, so you’ll have to bear with me. I realize that it is a lot to ask from you, and that you will probably be overwhelmed with so many posts at the same time, but let’s just pretend that they were all sent on different days, as intended. 

Here’s the game plan—I’m breaking this into three posts as follows (I’m making a list for you, to make this process easier. Also, I like lists):

1)      The post you are currently reading will consist of a rough summary of my past week.

2)      The next post will recount my adventures in Gibraltar over this past weekend.

3)      The final installment of this trilogy will fill you in on my eventful week thus far.

If you don’t think you can make the commitment to read this, now is the time to turn back (however I don’t condone giving up, meaning you should probably keep reading).  I have faith in you. We’ll do this together. Ready…here we go.

Last week on several occasions, I felt like a Spaniard.  I dressed like one, I walked around with confidence, and I explained to random passersby (that word may look strange, and you probably stopped for a moment to decide whether or not I used correct grammar or made it up. It is correct. You can continue) how to get to places within the city. 

I met one of my intercambios. I know have two, because I’m taking advantage of my situation. An intercambio is a Spanish student studying English at the University of Sevilla who is randomly assigned to be our partners to practice one another’s language.  Typically, you meet with your intercambio once a week or so and switch off speaking English to help them and Spanish to help you. It’s great! Well, anyway, the intercambio assigned to me found out that his schedule was much too complicated and he could not meet with me, but he told me to contact his friend who would also like practice in English. She emailed me back right away and we met two days later. She’s awesome and her English is incredible. I was only able to meet with her for 45 minutes, but I learned several notable things from her in that short amount of time! …Then, because she wasn’t officially assigned to me, I asked the director of the program for another intercambio.  My new intercambio emailed me back right away, as well. He said his English is at a very low level.  So now every time we email one another, we write in Spanish and then in English.  I’m meeting him tomorrow night. He seems really fun. I’m excited. Getting an intercambio has reinstated my drive to be proactive and proactive and practice the language more.

Every Thursday I attend Cine Club (aka we go to the Study Center and watch a movie in Spanish and eat free microwave palomitas). It’s a great way to see movies I would have otherwise not, and a great way to learn vocab, since we sometimes have a “lesson” afterward with the leader of the group.  Between class and the movie, we get tapas (by we, I mean my friend Claire and I…we do a lot together because we’re from the same university back home and therefore are in many classes together because we have the same requirements for credits, etc.). Every week we go to a different place and try new things. It’s quite fun. Last week we found a nice little place hidden away. There we saw an American family who clearly did not want the Spanish food.  The mother said loudly to her husband that they would just go to the pizza place the read about in their book. We didn’t like how rude they were, so we didn’t warn them about how different Spanish pizza is than American pizza. Also, when our food was brought out to us, it was actually given to the French girls at the table next to us. They didn’t know Spanish, so they were confused about what was happening. When they realized that it was our food, they gave it to us and one apologized for sticking her finger in it. We didn’t mind.

While strolling along the Centro (the down-town area of Sevilla), we discovered the music section.  Calle Baños.  It was filled with quaint music stores and the sounds of people practicing their instruments in the apartments above. It was a warming feeling. I realized how much I miss band (if you didn’t already know I was a band geek, you do now).

One night while Skyping with my family, my host mom and sister came into the room and saw my dogs and cat on the screen. It was an exciting experience for them. It made me happy.  My host dad teases about me taking Pepe home with me and I joke back. The truth is, I’d take him. I love Pepe.

Un Mes

Today marks the one-month anniversary of my arrival in Spain.  I don’t feel as though I’ve really been here for this long.  I am frustrated with the progress I have made language-wise so far.  I know that I judge myself very critically and that I have improved much more than I realize, but I cannot compare my current ability to my past ability when I need to live in the present and work towards the future.  My comprehension is great, but my ability to express complex thoughts and ideas in response continues to be daily struggle.  I’m anxious to learn more and I’m even more excited to teach others what I’ve learned (I literally spaced out in class yesterday, making lesson plans in my head for when I come back to novice and student teach).  I have a new appreciation for grammar, and I have gained greater perspective on many aspects of life.

I hate to admit this, but on the bus ride back from Granada this weekend, I felt slightly homesick. I realized how many privileges I have in the U.S. that I take for granted every day.  Things that I can live without, but enjoy having because I was raised with them in my life.  This weekend, we stayed overnight in a hotel.  I had my first hot shower in a month, and I didn’t have to turn off the water every time I wasn’t rinsing.  I chose what I wanted to eat and how much I ate.  I was treated like an independent and knowledgeable adult.  I was not cat-called while walking past a group of men.  I did not have to avoid dog poop on the sidewalks and in the street.  I enjoyed the natural beauty of the world, rather than just architectural beauty.  After one weekend away, I have discovered so many reasons why I love my own country.  I love Spain and have not experienced enough of it to judge it as a whole, but I must say that I haven’t given the United States enough credit.  I love my host family and do not feel slighted in any way, but at times I wonder how different my experience would be if I had different living arrangements like my peers.  I know now that if I gain nothing else from my time here, I will be content knowing how fortunate and privileged I am.      

Pomogranate

This weekend I ventured to Granada with my study abroad program (hence the title…Granada is a city in Spain, but it also means pomegranate).  It was a free trip.  By free, I mean I didn’t have to pay to go, but I’m pretty sure this fee was disguised in my original program fee, meaning I’d already technically paid to go…Anyway. I Love Granada! It is a world-famous city because of its beautiful Alhambra palace which many people around the globe have donated money to in the hope of preserving its beauty and rich cultural history.

*Quick Lesson Interruption:  Granada is important because it was the last city in Spain to house the Moors.  It completed the 800-year Muslim reign on the Iberian Peninsula, when it fell to the Catholic king and queen during the years of the Spanish Reconquest.  Before the fall of this civilization (in Spain), there were many internal territorial conflicts within the country.  After the reconquest, however, the nation became stronger and started what would be a period of great exploration and colonialism around the world…Alhambra, the palace of the Moorish king, was designed in Muslim style (the outside is plain, with all of the beauty within its walls), with intricate detailing on every inch of the walls in Arabic writing and in complex geometric patterns.  When the Christians took over the palace, they kept the original designs, but also contributed some of their own, making this site a truly unique mix of Muslim and Christian culture.  This mixed culture is experienced throughout the city.

But there is much more to Granada than the Alhambra!  I will give you a brief run-down of the things Granada has to offer. Then, I will tell you my thrilling story…      

Granada has:

1)      Cuter dogs

2)      Free tapas when you buy a drink

3)      Sierra Nevada Mountains

4)      A more chill vibe…the best way to describe this is that it feels more like a college town whereas Sevilla is bigger and feels more like a “big” city where a lot of different families live

5)      Cooler weather

6)      No poop in the streets

7)      Larger gypsy influence

8)      A  market with tons of small ethnic shops

Story Time:

While hanging out with the three Spanish students who accompanied us on the trip, a group of six of us opted not to go out to Granada’s famous discoteca, Granada 10, since we needed to wake up early the next day.  Due to the large Arab influence in the area, there are countless teterías (hookah bars).  Naturally, we decided that this would be the best place to experience this and enjoy a more relaxed and cultured evening.  While following our “expert” Spanish friend, who’s originally from Granada, a crazy Arab man came running out of his shop to greet us and lure us into the establishment.  This man was a fairly large fellow with a round Santa belly, a puffy beard that extended several inches from his face, large teeth, and distinct eyes.  His giant teeth-filled smile was accompanied by a piercing laugh.  The creep radar of any girl in the U.S would have been signaling at this moment.  Although he was overly friendly, his smile made us three Americans uncomfortable.  As he asked us where we were from, we could not think of an appropriate way to tell the Spaniards that we wanted to go somewhere else…It was too late. They were walking inside.  We followed, keeping in mind that we would leave at any time and that our new friends, two of whom were guys, felt comfortable there. 

When inside, the Spaniards continued to explain how friendly he was.  We laughed, looking at one another, all of us thinking the same thing (crazy!).  Speaking in Spanish all night was quite enjoyable and wonderful practice for us English-speakers.  We learned that Leo, the film buff, was at a party and chatted with Elijah Wood.  He showed us his photo with Frodo on his mobile. ¡Que guay!  (side note: my host family loves that I use this phrase) At random times throughout the evening, this crazy man would bring us Aladdin hats and beaded headbands to wear and take photos in.  He danced with Claire at one point.  And I would be ashamed not to mention his affinity for pretending to beat-up and/or choke Leo, who was seated in a rather unfortunate position.  We were certain that he would eventually strangle him for real, but he did not.  His assistant, who I have decided must be his nephew, began speaking to us, after he finished smoking like a chimney.  He knew English, Spanish, French, and Arabic, and apparently moved from Morocco to Granada 1 ½ years ago.  He told me he was from Jupiter. He took my sarcasm to mean that I believed him. Oh well.  For all I know, he could indeed be from another planet.  Words cannot express how crazy the owner of this place was, nor can they sufficiently detail the events of this evening; however, one phrase sums up the mentality fairly well: ¡Que experiencia! What an experience!