It's a Small World After All. Part 2.

Today was a lovely little day. I literally walked around for 3 hours exploring potential neighborhoods for next semester's apartment. Lo and behold, I run into Kate Terry and her two amigas, who happened to be in Sevilla. We found ourselves sitting at a cafe chatting for a couple hours...and thinking "is this seriously happening right now?" Kate, fellow cap-i-tan of xc (see pic below), who I have seen once since high school. Geez Louise, I love it. I'm still shocked. Events like these are so crazy. What if I hadn't decided to turn that direction and start walking home? What are the chances of us walking on the same road, opposite directions? Let alone on the same side of the street? We could have easily passed by each other without notice, I can't stop smiling. Gosh. 

Big Mac, Me, Kate, and Tyler...senior year State...see how long it's been?

On an unrelated note, I made it back in time for dinner. I was on bread duty (see previous post, Carmen = homebody), right as I get to the market near our apartment it's closing. Panic. Luckily the amazing panaderia/bakery down the street was still open. "Tres andaluzas, por favor." "Espera un momentito, ya estan en el horno." Fresh bread, straight out of the oven. Carmen's three other kids (besides Carlos, of course) joined us for dinner to celebrate Jorge's (son-in-law's) birthday. We ate shrimp with fully-intact bodies, so I awkwardly sat and watched everyone else eat them to see how they de-capitated, de-tailed, and de-legged the darn things. We are all done eating, and of course there were extras, so guess who gets stuck eating them? Me. Of course. Normally Joanna and I split the impossibly large portions of food, but she bailed on me this weekend for Italy, how dare she! I'm pretty sure Jorge jocosely (yes, I did just use that word, tell Mrs. Bates) made a comment about Americans eating a lot, not appreciated, Jorge!...as I recall you all were the ones force-feeding me against my will. So for the second time today, I cannot move. 

Q: What do you call someone who put's poison in a person's corn flakes? A: A cereal killer.

Sorry, it's Halloween. I had to put up a bad Halloween joke. 

Halloween has a growing presence in Spain, due in large part to the increasing numbers of American study-abroad students. There are plenty of "international" (meaning American) parties happening tonight. I will not be attending, a. because I am anti-social, and b. because I refuse to associate myself with other American students. 

We have officially passed the half-way point of this semester's program. I only have five more weeks of class, followed by a few days of exams. Crazy. I feel like I haven't done much schoolwork. I do have a midterm to study for this weekend, but it's pretty much just memorizing verb groups and idioms. I am a bit frustrated with my art history class. My teacher is totally dull and doesn't even make eye-contact with us the entire class. He fills up the chalkbroad, reads what he wrote. We take a 20 minute break, and he does the same thing. It wasn't until yesterday we even saw actual works of art, and we had a substitute, of course. 

The whole host-family situation is working out pretty well. Carmen is a total home-body, never has left Spain except for a visit to Portugal. I'm pretty sure she only leaves the house to go to the bank and market to buy food. I am beginning to get used to the way she speaks (I can even hear her complaining about Carlos when she talks on the phone haha), but her Spanish seriously sounds like nothing I have heard before. It was making me lose faith in my language skills, thinking I could only understand our professors because they were talking down to us. But then I listen to people on the streets, or in cafes, and they are completely understandable, so things are looking up. In addition, last Monday I went to the post office and successfully explained the envelopes and stamps I need to mail in my absentee ballot. Things like that up the confidence level. 

This weekend is completely empty, with no planned excursions, probably because this week at school we have "midterms" (read: one). The upcoming weekends are looking like: Cordoba, PARIS, Sierra de Aracena, Italy with the Arndt gals!, then the weekend before exams. Holy smokes. Then begins my 7 week winter break...yes, 7. The spring program commences January 26, again with orientation in Madrid for three days. A few friends from BC will be in Madrid by then, so hopefully I will be able to spend that time catching up! Classes begin February 9. 

I have begun the whole apartment search. The options are endless. I would like to live closer to the city center/univerisity/API office. There are listings from other international students and Spanish students, alike. The prices are surprisingly inexpensive, mostly around 250 Euros for your own room. I like living with Carmen, but I have to share a room, and she puts strange meats (and pounds of salt) in our soups. I also feel slightly prisoner-like in my room. She tells Joanna and I we are welcome to use the sitting room, but all she does is watch the television. When Carlos eats with us, we watch the Simpsons. When he's not, we watch the weather. People here are obsessed and dramatic when it comes to the weather. They always think it's going to rain, Carmen always asks if I have an umbrella when I leave (did she not see my amazing light-packing skills? of course my umbrella didn't make it in). 

Anyway, happy Halloween! Sixteen minutes until lunch, so about 45 minutes until I am lying on my bed unable to move. 

Mother Theresa is a Saint.

Mother Theresa is the best....HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!! 

Love,

Your Favorite Daughter

Doesn't Sevilla know that Christmas is two months away?

Little Obversations:

a. The weather was downright disagreeable today, although the dark gray clouds failed to shower us the entire day, so thank you, weather. It is Freezing (caps F) here. If it's cold again tomorrow I will turn this place over. Sevilla is supposed to be sunny, delightful, and warm...having a high of 65 and low of 45 during the coldest time of the year (which is not October, by the way). Grr. 

b. On the streets near the city's center, one can literally find chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Disappointingly enough, I have heard nothing but negative reviews. 

Farewell, I have things to do. (kidding)

Portuguese New Glarus?

Hey guys, look what I found in Lagos! 

Pomegranate Land

I just returned from a weekend in Granada, sigh. What a precious city. Granada is about 3 hours east of Sevilla, the other main city in Andalucia. Though only half Sevilla's size (about 300.000), the city simply shines. It is well-situated in between mountain ranges, and the town itself offers rugged terrain for the adventurous with quality hiking footwear. Granada, Spanish for Pomegranate!, was the last Moorish stronghold in Spain during the Reconquist by Isabel and Ferdinand. The Arab influences abound, especially in the Albayzin, a neighborhood that houses Moroccan-style shops and restaurants. 

Pictured above is the Alhambra, one of the most-visited sites in Europe. This picture doesn't exactly do it justice but will suffice for now. The Alhambra consists of four parts: Charles V's Palace, Alcazaba (the fort), Palacios Nazaries, and the Generalife Gardens. A guide took us through the royal palace as we explored the ceremonial rooms and private quarters of the Moorish Kings. Following Muslim tradition, there was no artwork in the form of images, though painted colors adorned the buildings: red (blood), blue (heaven), green (oasis), and gold (wealth). Other forms of artwork include the stalactite-looking ceilings, floral indents in the walls, and calligraphy. One message, translating to "only Allah is victorious," is repeated 9.000 times. 

Traveling with such a large group is quite exhausting and a bit inefficient trying to get everyone going places, making decisions, etc. All in all, I highly enjoyed the visit, but am glad to be back in Seville and looking forward to staying here the upcoming weekend. This semester is about half-way over already, and soon I have to apartment hunt for next semester, ahh! 

I was so ecstatic to "fall back" today. Normally it is still dark after 8:00 a.m. when we awake for class on Monday/Wednesday. The earlier sunrise will finally be conducive to my running in the mornings. 

I should try to read my 15 pages of homework before dinner tonight, that way I can watch Sleeping Beauty afterward. A girl in my program received it in a package from a friend, and she already converted her computer to European DVDs, so the movie is in my possession (big, Cheshire Cat-like smile). I have already watched it twice, but this time I will watch it in Spanish, how's that for a justification?

Ramblings...

1. I just saw a little dog get hit by a car. It was crying and crying until it finally died. I'm not sure if it had an owner or not, but someone carried it off the road and onto the sidewalk. People were petting it during its final moments, which slightly increased my faith in humanity. 

2. I have my ballot, printed and (not) ready to go. I'm going through that whole "I don't really like either candidate" phase, but I know I must vote for someone. Hum dee dum, what to do. I have an extreme disdain for politics. It's just the two candidates making fluffy speeches while pointing out the character flaws of the other. I'm tired of watching negative t.v. ads, to me they all sound the same. The candidate who thinks of a more creative way to get their ideas across would get my vote. Now is quite an interesting time to be out of the country. Of course all (ok, not all, but most) of the Europeans are Obama fans. It is interesting to see or read news on what is happening in the States and how the candidates are portrayed. For instance, yesterday in the paper there was a picture of Obama and McCain. Obama's picture was just, you know, your average photo, handsome smile. McCain's was some crazy face he was making with his tongue out, very peculiar.  

3. I booked a flight to Marseille for December 13, which is when the first semester of my program officially ends. I am going to be a WWOOFer, woohoo! Basically WWOOF (willing workers on organic farms) is an international organization that connects volunteers who are interested in sustainable agriculture with farms looking for help. The term "organic" often carries a pretentious, negative connotation, but it is not just a fad. Growing food organically just means doing so without harsh chemicals that harm the earth, a way that is healthy for the environment. I'm not sure yet as to where exactly I will be, but I thought I would use Marseille as a good starting point since I know I want to be in southern France (j'ai besoin de practiquer mon francais, bien sur!) The farms in the WWOOF network offer volunteers room and board in exchange for work, usually 4-5 hours/day, 5 day/week. I might as well do something productive with my 6 week winter break, right?

Granada, tomorrow. Packing, now. 

Portugal es da "bom"

Pardon the hiatus! I'd like to say it was due to a heavy workload or having other important things to do, but such is not the case. I went to Portugal last weekend. There are no words to describe the beauty of this country, emanating from the language, historic buildings, and natural wonders. 

Our viaje began as our group (7 in total) gathered at the bus station for our midnight ride to Lisbon. Traveling with a small number was much more pleasant than being with the entire group. The ride wasn't bad, however the man in front of me snored the entire way. This was no average snore, let me tell ya. It sounded so painful, I have no idea how he didn't wake himself up. 

We arrived in the early a.m. and immediately went to our hostel, which ended up being a very enjoyable first hostel experience! There was a large lounge room complete with comfy couches, two computers, and marilyn monroe/elvis-adorned walls. The staff were kind enough to let us throw our bags in the backroom even though we were a few hours early for check-in. 

Time to muster up some energy and explore the city. Lisbon is suprisingly easy to navigate. We bought day passes for the metro, which were definitely worth the buy. We immediately headed to an area called Belem. Situated there is a monument dedicated to the "discoverers." A further walk along the river brought us to the Belem Tower:

The tower was built in late-gothic style and serves as a symbol of Portuguese power (and as a tribute to Vasco de Gama) during the age of the discoveries. Nearby is the Mosteiro dos Jeronimos. The cathedral is very similar to the Spanish style, though with intricate designs on the tall columns. 

We took a much-needed break at Casa Pasteis de Belem, a cafe known for its signature pastry, pastel de Belem. A cup-of-coffee later and we were refreshed and ready to continue exploring. We headed back to the city center on a trolley, where we ascended and descended the hilly, swerving streets. This was only about half the day, but I need to talk about Lagos!!

Lagos is a small town located on the southern coast of Portugal, called the Algarve. The town is booming with tourists in the summer, and as a result, most people there speak English (and perhaps because very few people are anxious to learn Portuguese, which is unfortunate considering the beauty of the language!) The highlight of the trip was our 3-hour kayaking tour of the caves and rock formations.  

Overall, the trip was fantastic. Portugal is highly underrated. It's kind of Spain's quiet wingman that never really causes any noise in the world. I am in love with the language. The best way I can describe it is as a French-Russian hybrid with a few noticable Spanish words thrown in the mix, if you can imagine that haha. Many of the words look the same, which was a huge help in getting around the city, but due to the differences in pronunciations, one would not guess that Portuguese and Spanish are two of the most closely related Romance languages in written form. 

Note: These pictures are stolen from various sites online, thanks to Google Image and generous photo-uploaders. I will for sure post kayaking pictures after I steal my friend's camera...wow, a lot of stealing going on on my part! 

Tomorrow is the last day of school for the week, and Friday we leave for Granada. I am so very excited, Barb's sister Claire told me Granada was her favorite city in Spain. I have heard nothing but good things. 

Luego!

It's a Small World After All.

I was wandering around town today, enjoying the sun, when I passed a man wearing a Green Bay Packers t-shirt. It's a small, small world. 

A Bad Case of the Mondays.

It's been a month. I haven't been too whiny yet, so I think I deserve one whiny post. Here it is:

I miss my blender. I want a choco-peanut butter-banana shake. 

I miss peanut butter. Unfortunately my frugal European lifestyle cannot afford such luxuries. However, Joanna and I decided that if Obama wins we are buying some. PLEASE VOTE FOR THE SAKE OF MY HEALTH haha 

Ok that's all. I don't have school today, thanks to Pilar. I'm not sure who Pilar is, but apparently she is worth celebrating. You don't have school thanks to Columbus...we're still celebrating him?

What can make me feel this way? Mulva.

Sung to the tune of "My Girl."

We went to Mulva today to see some ancient Roman ruins. That's really all I can tell you. The energy put towards listening to our guide was instead focused on my freezing, drenched, uncomfortable state. My mind searched for positive thoughts instead, like lunch. 

I met up with friends Stephanie and Alesha at 8, so as to reach the bus station and meet the others at 9. The train ride lasted an hour. We literally got off in the middle-of-nowhere when the merciless precipitation began. After the initial soakage, we decided to just make the most of it. Many a Disney song were sang to keep our minds in a more pleasant place. We hiked for about 40 minutes to Mulva, roamed the ruins, took shelter under a porch, lunched, etc. 

After lunch, the rain miraculously stopped. I went from soaked to damp about an hour later. We had a two hour hike to the next town, where we were to catch the train back to Sevilla. Extra time was spent at a bar, drinking down cola-caos (Spanish hot chocolate, it's no Swiss Miss, but with such timing its taste was delectable). On the way to the bar, Stephanie, Alesha, and I picked some fruits off the cacti (which, by the way, have miniscule prickers on them, and I am discovering new ones latched into my skin with every movement of my hand). Who knew cacti beared fruit (not I)! Lola, our supervisor, told us she absolutely loves them. With good reason, too, for at the bar we cut them open, and they were indeed divine. Took the train back, luckily the 50 minute walk to my apartment involved no added moisture from the sky. I'm officially showered and warm once again. Time to read until dinner. 

80s-Style aerobics in a desperate attempt to find warmth: 

I'm not actually sure how we were laughing so hard at this point, but maybe it was the delirium. 

The Marvelous Midge

Midge aka 4-10 aka Kelsi Upmann finished the Twin Cities Marathon in 3 hours, 35 minutes, and 20 seconds like a total champ, thereby qualifying for the Boston Marathon (of which the qualifying time is 3 hours, 40 minutes).....YAY MIDGE! 

PETA members, beware:

I went to the bullfight today and stayed for the entire time despite skyrocketing anxiety levels. I was nervous for the matadors, nervous for the bulls, just a whole bundle a nerves. 

Bullfighting is to Spain what baseball is to America, and not only in terms of popularity:

1. Accuracy is essential. If the matador doesn't get a clean stab right in the back of the bull's neck, the crowd boos.

2. Tight pants and tall socks. Only is Spain could a man wear such flamboyant garb and be highly respected...I mean, really, pink socks? 

3. Venders selling peanuts and beer. 

The very first bullring was built in Ronda (a small town south of Sevilla) in the late 1700s. Bullfighting in Spain is huge, and it is especially associated with Andalusian culture. The event is extremely ritualistic and ceremonial in nature. The matadors (3 in total) enter the stadium with their assistants while the band plays a march anthem. The banderilleros carry pinks capes and take center stage in the beginning of the fight. The bull runs out and charges the banderilleros, who take cover behind the gates. They don't actually do any of the wounding to the bull, and are present until the end. 

In the second part of the fight, two picadors enter the stadium on horses and carrying lances. The horses wear protective armor and are blindfolded so they don't know when the bull is going to ram into them. When this happens, the picador jabs the bull. The crowd whistles in disapproval if he wounds the bull too much. Next the banderilleros stab the bull with banderillas (brightly adorned, barbed sticks). These are put in the bull's shoulders, so as to lower its head, eventually giving the matador a better shot at it. This part of the fight made me particularly nervous, as they had no protection at all. The bull and banderillero run at each other and he jabs the bull and runs away. 

The bull is considerably injured and very bloody at this point. The matador begins the last phase, in which he tries to gracefully work with the bull and red cape with ballet-like passes. There are multiple manoeuvres with varying degrees of difficulty (i.e. having one knee on the ground, or taking the sword out of the cape so the target is smaller). When the matador is doing a good job, the crowd yells "Ole!" with each pass. After a few minutes of getting the crowd riled up, the matador lines up the bull for the kill. If done correctly, the bull dies almost instantly, because the sword goes right into its aorta. 

The first matador was horrendous. I think they went in order of least to most experienced, because the picador wounded the first bull the most. It was really sad. You could see the bull trying to breathe, which obviously got progressively harder. The bull almost died before the matador even stabbed it. The matador went in for the kill, but didn't get the sword in all the way, so the bull was still on the verge of death. It was lying on the ground, and someone else had to keep stabbing it with a dagger before it finally died. Much blood was spilled, I think I even cried (Did I just admit to that?) Who knew I had a soft spot for animals? haha My roommate and another friend Marisa left after the horses came out to drag the bull away, they were quite distraught. 

I will say I am glad I stuck it out until the end. The second and third matadors were much more of a treat to watch, and proved bullfighting takes grace and courage. After the first bull, I thought "Where is the sport in this?" All I felt were the overflowing testosterone levels. After watching the rest, I realized the craft and precision involved. The crowd waves white flags or scarves if the matador did well, then the matador proceeds to parade around the stadium, often receiving a Spanish rose or two. It's amazing that bullfighting is still going on today, not just because of ethical reasons, but because the entire ceremony, from the march anthem to the ornate costumes to the armor-clad horses, puts you a few centuries back. I'm surprised PETA members haven't been dispatched to protest such an event, but culture is culture, and it's difficult if not impossible to judge. 

Cartwheeling.

Today was our first excursion apart from Madrid and Toledo in the beginning. After a solid first week of class, filled with the usual nonsense that occupies the drop/add period, we made the short journey to La Rabida. La Rabida is the Franciscan monastery where Columbus lived the two years prior to his journey, but I'm tired of Columbus so enough about that. We took about a 30 minute bus-ride to Huelva, a small beach town that appeared deserted. For being the beginning of October, it was surprisingly warm near the water, and very relaxing because no one was around (so maybe people do actually work and attend school?). We (attempted) to do cartwheels, which only reminded me that I lack any grace whatsoever.

Side note: The Filology department library (where I need to check out a book for Monday's lit class) is open Monday through Friday, 10 to 1, and Monday and Wednesday, 5-8. We're pretty hard core. 

On an unrelated subject, I feel a tad disconnected! What a strange time to not be in America...economy...election. I have been trying to read a few articles on BBC.co.uk to receive some news from a foreign (yet familiar language) perspective. I sent in my request for an absentee ballot. I'm 99% sure I'll vote for Obama, although more research must be done to make an educated decision. I definitely don't agree with everything he says or does, but I feel most strongly about stopping the war, and clearly that won't happen with McCain. In the spirit of being in one of my sporadically political moods, I thought I'd share a fun little link (those of you had Mr. Loizzo might know about it?) Basically the Political Compass is a quiz that shows where you stand on a grid-like map according to your views. The concept is that politics are more complex than being simply left- or right-wing, so a new dimension is added- north (Authoritarian) and south (Libertarian). The site also shows where some famous leaders have stood (i.e. Stalin, Hitler, Gandhi) and where many present and potentially future leaders stand (i.e. Bush and Candidates). 

Super Awk:

1. overhearing Spaniards talk about U.S. politics and saying Jorge "Boosh" and talking about the U.S. to Carmen and saying Jorge "Boosh" 

2. ordering certain ice cream flavors. "me gustaria una tarrina pequena de vainilla con brownie." the Spaniards really need to make up a word for brownie.