martes, 31 de marzo de 2009
A Little Something from Madre's Collection
So madre found our stash of wine. We have a small window box outside our room and with the freak cold front this week, it serves a perfect spot for chilling white wine. Allison and I were watching TV and chatting with madre last night before dinner when she brought it up. With a huge smile on her face, she changed topics mid-sentence to say that our gran collection had been found. Yikes, que verguensa (how embarrassing). I could feel my face turn beet-red trying to suppress our giggling, while she hooped and hollered about it to her daughter Isabel. Had she seen this collection yet? And how funny that they put it in their window! Madre reminded us that she is supposed to tell Jesus since we're not allowed to drink in the house, but she assured us that her lips were sealed. Without suppressing this wide smile, I could tell she felt proud for being such a guay, badass madre. As she called us into the kitchen for dinner, I poked her and said that she was welcome to "our collection" anytime she wanted. She just laughed and grabbed her finest boxed red from the fridge. Pouring Allison and I each a hefty glass, she said in Spanish, "And here is a little something from MY collection."
lunes, 30 de marzo de 2009
Ay que pesas mucho!
Saturday afternoon, I made my way across the street to Cafe del Arte like always. As soon as I walked in, that same old bartender lit up and began spitting out, "Hola hola que tal? Todo bien?" (Hey, how's it going? Everything good?) I replied that everything was great, how about himself? "Si si todo bien. Cafe con leche?" To which I replied, "Si si claro, cafe con leche como siempre." (Yes yes of course cafe con leche as always). Ha, look at that, he even knows my drink! About an hour later, I went up to the bar to pay, and he says, "Hace un rato que no verte aqui." (It's been a while since I've seen you here." This spurred a conversation about our trip to Andalucia and where I'd been. No, I hadn't gone swimming, but it was definitely warm enough to do so if I had wanted. Looks like I HAVE become one of those regulars after all. Either that or he feels really guilty for yelling at me my first week in Spain. It's kind of guay to have a PLACE in Spain, one where they recognize you and know your drink:)
I returned home to watch Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman (dubbed in Spanish) with madre. This was an equally bizarre and hilarious experience. As hard as it was, I pulled myself away from this captivating and meaningful TV show and met up with Alex and Colleen for an Italian dinner near Casa de Las Conchas. Here, you construct your own pasta dish...picking your noodles, sauce and toppings. We all got the four cheese rigatoni and split a delicious bottle of red wine.
After dinner, we headed over to a nearby bar (Erasmus--one of our favs) and met up with several others from our group. There was a big soccer game against Turkey on TV and so the atmosphere was that much more exciting. At our big table in the back, we split several "tablas" (small samplers of each type of beer they offer), but I was mainly just in it for the included portion of nuts. Sitting in Erasmus, immersed in the Spanish culture, laughing and talking with some of my favorite people, I had this wave of anxiety that before long we'll be returning home. I wish I could go back to the states for a week to visit loved ones and such, but then be on the next plane back to fabulous Spain.
Sunday morning, Leah, Angela, Kristina, Allison, and I braved the freak cold front and made the trek to El Rastro (huge outdoor flea market). I was immediately overwhelmed by 1 euro sunglasses, 2 euro necklaces, and 10 euro jackets. Only stopping to buy a white and grey plaid button-down dress, we left 45 minutes later. My hands were so numb I couldn't focus on anything but getting home. Thankfully, we'll have one last Sunday to hit up the Rastro, so hopefully we'll have better luck with the weather.
Last night, Allison and I met Allison Sachs, Annie, and Ashley at the Tea House to use the internet. After a delicious dinner of Spanish tortilla, salad (balsamic vinagrette!) and strawberries, I headed 5 minutes up Frederico de Anaya to visit Alex and Colleen at their apartment. As soon as I walked in, the grand tour began. Escoli, their madre, was frantic and raced to "clean" her already immaculate room. The tour ended in the bathroom, where Colleen spotted the scale and made some joke about how it's a sore subject with us nowadays. At this, Escoli immediately pulled it out and suggested that we weigh ourselves. Haha, what a funny old lady. As she hopped her small hunch-backed self on the scale, we realized she wasn't joking. Next, she turned to Alex…it was her time at the scale. Between our laughing spasms of disbelief, we tried to explain to Escoli that we had only just eaten dinner and really would prefer to not step on a scale directly afterwards. It was like she didn’t hear us though, because she only dragged Alex over to repeat what she herself had just done. She reported back to us Alex’s results and immediately shot a glance at Colleen that said she was next. Colleen reluctantly stepped on the scale. When her results were in, Escoli exclaimed, “Ay! Que pesas mucho!” (Wow, you weigh a lot!) Have I mentioned that Spanish women are brutally honest and tell it like it is? There is absolutely no filter with these chicks. Well of course Colleen is going to weigh more, she’s pushing 7 feet tall! That’s when Escoli ordered me to the scale. Was she serious? I just got in her house 5 minutes ago and she’s already weighing me in front of my friends. Does she do this to all her guests? But there was no avoiding it…I was weighed as well. Being that the scale was in kilos, we had no idea what the conversion rate was, and for once, were thankful for our ignorance. Only Escoli holds a mental record of our individual weight gain in Spain.
I have an eight-page Spanish paper for Independent Study and a five-page paper for Intro. to Lit. due immediately upon our return from spring break (aka I have to do both of those this week). Yikes, I keep forgetting I actually am here to study and do work as well. It’s so hard doing work though as I anticipate meeting mom and Bekah in Madrid this upcoming Saturday morning! Alex and Megan are meeting their families that morning in Madrid as well, so we’ll be taking the bus up Friday morning and spending that night in a hostel together. Alex has a stepsister a year older than Bekah so it will be fun taking them out together at night along Gran Via. It’ll be de puta madre.
I have an eight-page Spanish paper for Independent Study and a five-page paper for Intro. to Lit. due immediately upon our return from spring break (aka I have to do both of those this week). Yikes, I keep forgetting I actually am here to study and do work as well. It’s so hard doing work though as I anticipate meeting mom and Bekah in Madrid this upcoming Saturday morning! Alex and Megan are meeting their families that morning in Madrid as well, so we’ll be taking the bus up Friday morning and spending that night in a hostel together. Alex has a stepsister a year older than Bekah so it will be fun taking them out together at night along Gran Via. It’ll be de puta madre.
sábado, 28 de marzo de 2009
A continued list of things I miss from home:
-peanut M&Ms that don’t cost 2.5 euros for a fun size bag.
-to-go food and drinks
-being able to wear shorts, skirts, or dresses WITHOUT tights and not be stared at
-doing my own laundry (trust me, when something is dirty, I can expect not to see it again for well over a week).
-my own room
-American restaurant service on American time
-driving my car
-less expensive beauty products
-condiments on sandwiches and butter on bread
This entire week and next we’re staying home in Salamanca, realizing that with spring break and an excursion to Cantabria, we only have one more weekend here! Wow, I really can’t believe that.
Some of this week’s highlights include:
1) Going to coffee after Spanish Civ. with Andrea, Ally, and Allison Sachs at café Bauker off Calle Zamora. Ally had come here with a Spanish student a few weeks earlier to practice Spanish and was anxious to bring us too. I love how the people in our JMU group are constantly sharing cool new places they find in the city. At the cafe, we sat in woven-straw armchairs, Andy and Allison enjoying their coffee and ice cream, while Ally and I sipped on huge glasses of the best cappuccino I’ve ever had in my entire life…very telling.
On our way to the café we were stopped by two high school-aged Spanish boys wanting to take their picture with us. This happens far more often than you’d think. Spanish men seem obsessed with taking their pictures with American girls, even if they hadn’t said one word to them previously. The funniest part was how one of the boys chose to ask us in his broken understanding of the English language. “Please, a picture…WE (pointing at themselves) with WE” (pointing at us). We couldn’t help but laugh and shake our heads to say no thanks, but that only beckoned the stronger refrains of, “WHY?! WE…WITH WE!! WE…WITH WE!”
I can’t really make fun TOO much because I know this is probably how I sound to them everyday. It just feels good sometimes to see that we’re not the only ones struggling.
2) Yesterday after my siesta lunch and nap, I headed over to what Alex Johns and I had named “Bench Park” just down the street from our apartment. Taking advantage of the sunny weather, I stretched out on one of the thousands of rod iron benches to read some of my novel for Independent Study, Como Agua Para Chocolate. I hadn’t been there but 5 minutes when a cute old man noticed my rolled-up jeans and unbuttoned top and approached me. “Hace calor, no?” (It’s hot, isn’t it?). To which I naturally responded, “Si si de verdad.” (Yes, really). Continuing, he said “Pues, tu vas a volverte morena y bonita.” (Well, you’re going to become all tanned and beautiful). Not knowing quite how to respond myself, I guess he thought the next appropriate question was, “Tienes un novio?” (Do you have a boyfriend?). Ha! I guess age is of little importance in Spain, because the Spanish men have always got it ;)
3) Thursday night, most of our group found ourselves at one of our favorite bars, Atahualpa, where it’s only 3.5 euros for all you can drink bottled Mahou (only the classiest Spanish version of natural light). This place always plays old Brittany Spears, Outkast, Sean Paul, and others, which makes great dancing music while bringing back 8th grade memories. Taking a break to talk with a few of my girlfriends, I was startled by a man who had interjected his face a mere 3 inches from my own with no intention of moving it anytime soon. Can I help you, sir? After a minute, he said, “Eres Espanola?” (Are you Spanish?) Ha. It’s always interesting to see what pick-up line the Spanish guy will use. Was it my freckles, light brown hair, or the fact that I’m speaking in English with my friends that gave it away for you, bud? Anywho, this is how I came to meet Raul, a skinny Italian 26-year-old working in Salamanca until September. When an American guy gets your number and he says he’ll call you, he most likely won’t. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a text message saying he’s too busy to call. In Spain, however, if a man gets your number and says he’ll call, not only will he text you 4 times the next morning, he won’t stop calling you until you pick up. Yikes. Unfortunately for Raul, I will NOT be getting that cup of coffee with him this weekend.
Since I opened this blog with things I miss about home, it’s only fitting that I conclude it with a few more things I will miss about Spain.
-peanut M&Ms that don’t cost 2.5 euros for a fun size bag.
-to-go food and drinks
-being able to wear shorts, skirts, or dresses WITHOUT tights and not be stared at
-doing my own laundry (trust me, when something is dirty, I can expect not to see it again for well over a week).
-my own room
-American restaurant service on American time
-driving my car
-less expensive beauty products
-condiments on sandwiches and butter on bread
This entire week and next we’re staying home in Salamanca, realizing that with spring break and an excursion to Cantabria, we only have one more weekend here! Wow, I really can’t believe that.
Some of this week’s highlights include:
1) Going to coffee after Spanish Civ. with Andrea, Ally, and Allison Sachs at café Bauker off Calle Zamora. Ally had come here with a Spanish student a few weeks earlier to practice Spanish and was anxious to bring us too. I love how the people in our JMU group are constantly sharing cool new places they find in the city. At the cafe, we sat in woven-straw armchairs, Andy and Allison enjoying their coffee and ice cream, while Ally and I sipped on huge glasses of the best cappuccino I’ve ever had in my entire life…very telling.
On our way to the café we were stopped by two high school-aged Spanish boys wanting to take their picture with us. This happens far more often than you’d think. Spanish men seem obsessed with taking their pictures with American girls, even if they hadn’t said one word to them previously. The funniest part was how one of the boys chose to ask us in his broken understanding of the English language. “Please, a picture…WE (pointing at themselves) with WE” (pointing at us). We couldn’t help but laugh and shake our heads to say no thanks, but that only beckoned the stronger refrains of, “WHY?! WE…WITH WE!! WE…WITH WE!”
I can’t really make fun TOO much because I know this is probably how I sound to them everyday. It just feels good sometimes to see that we’re not the only ones struggling.
2) Yesterday after my siesta lunch and nap, I headed over to what Alex Johns and I had named “Bench Park” just down the street from our apartment. Taking advantage of the sunny weather, I stretched out on one of the thousands of rod iron benches to read some of my novel for Independent Study, Como Agua Para Chocolate. I hadn’t been there but 5 minutes when a cute old man noticed my rolled-up jeans and unbuttoned top and approached me. “Hace calor, no?” (It’s hot, isn’t it?). To which I naturally responded, “Si si de verdad.” (Yes, really). Continuing, he said “Pues, tu vas a volverte morena y bonita.” (Well, you’re going to become all tanned and beautiful). Not knowing quite how to respond myself, I guess he thought the next appropriate question was, “Tienes un novio?” (Do you have a boyfriend?). Ha! I guess age is of little importance in Spain, because the Spanish men have always got it ;)
3) Thursday night, most of our group found ourselves at one of our favorite bars, Atahualpa, where it’s only 3.5 euros for all you can drink bottled Mahou (only the classiest Spanish version of natural light). This place always plays old Brittany Spears, Outkast, Sean Paul, and others, which makes great dancing music while bringing back 8th grade memories. Taking a break to talk with a few of my girlfriends, I was startled by a man who had interjected his face a mere 3 inches from my own with no intention of moving it anytime soon. Can I help you, sir? After a minute, he said, “Eres Espanola?” (Are you Spanish?) Ha. It’s always interesting to see what pick-up line the Spanish guy will use. Was it my freckles, light brown hair, or the fact that I’m speaking in English with my friends that gave it away for you, bud? Anywho, this is how I came to meet Raul, a skinny Italian 26-year-old working in Salamanca until September. When an American guy gets your number and he says he’ll call you, he most likely won’t. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a text message saying he’s too busy to call. In Spain, however, if a man gets your number and says he’ll call, not only will he text you 4 times the next morning, he won’t stop calling you until you pick up. Yikes. Unfortunately for Raul, I will NOT be getting that cup of coffee with him this weekend.
Since I opened this blog with things I miss about home, it’s only fitting that I conclude it with a few more things I will miss about Spain.
-Hearing "hola, guapa!" (hello, beautiful!) everyday walking down the street. This isn't a creepy gesture in the least, but completely normal here. Everyone is GUAPA!
A few of madre’s famous lines:
“A Comer” (Time to Eat)…obviously at the top of my list.
“Voy a poner la cena” (I’m going to make dinner)
“Ya teneis la cena cuando quereis” (Dinner’s ready when you want it)
“Saaabes?” (you know?)
“O sea” (still not sure what this one means, but she says it a lot)
A few of madre’s famous lines:
“A Comer” (Time to Eat)…obviously at the top of my list.
“Voy a poner la cena” (I’m going to make dinner)
“Ya teneis la cena cuando quereis” (Dinner’s ready when you want it)
“Saaabes?” (you know?)
“O sea” (still not sure what this one means, but she says it a lot)
"Traela, hija!" (Take it, daughter)--hear this one at least 10 times each lunch.
And of course, the famous line of the fraudulent beggar on Calle Toro:
“Ayudame para comprar una hamberguesa que tengo hambre por favor!” (Help me buy a hamburger, I’m so hungry please!”) I hear this literally everyday on my walk to class and at this point have memorized every vocal intonation of his plea. Obviously SOMEONE is feeding him that hamburger everyday cause he’s still alive and kicking. One of the girls in our group was out with her madre the other week though and saw him in a suit, without the limp, so I really can’t feel too terrible for the man. Regardless, in some strange strange way I will miss his mantra.
And of course, the famous line of the fraudulent beggar on Calle Toro:
“Ayudame para comprar una hamberguesa que tengo hambre por favor!” (Help me buy a hamburger, I’m so hungry please!”) I hear this literally everyday on my walk to class and at this point have memorized every vocal intonation of his plea. Obviously SOMEONE is feeding him that hamburger everyday cause he’s still alive and kicking. One of the girls in our group was out with her madre the other week though and saw him in a suit, without the limp, so I really can’t feel too terrible for the man. Regardless, in some strange strange way I will miss his mantra.
Long Weekend in Andalucia
Just thinking about starting this blog post makes me want to throw up-the same feeling I usually have regarding the debriefing after every excursion because there is so much to tell. This excursion, however, is especially challenging as it was 5 days long and my absolute favorite of them all. Brace yourself.
We left the ‘Manc at 8:30 am Thursday morning and with three stops, we arrived in Granada at yet another beautiful 4-star hotel around 4:30 pm. Andalucia (southern region of Spain) isn’t exactly around the corner. At 5:30, we visited El Barrio del Albaycín where we enjoyed an incredible view of La Alhambra (Arabic Palace where Ferdinand and Isabel lived at one point) and snow-capped mountains in the distance. It wasn’t long before we discovered that Granada is a hippie’s paradise. There were packs of young adults in MC Hammer pants gathered together smoking hash, drinking forties, and selling beads.
At 9 pm, we enjoyed a fabulous buffet dinner complete with everything from buttery salmon and pasta to green olives and an assortment of cheeses. Besides the 50-some-year-old waiter hitting on at least 5 of us girls during the course of our meal, I’d say it wasn’t too shabby.
Later that night, I popped open my finest 69-cent white wine (that’s got to be a record…I’m sure the majority of that was to pay for the bottle) and then headed out to a local bar. My highlight of the evening was meeting some middle-aged Spaniards and being told that my Spanish was almost perfect. Pick-up line or not, I’ll take “almost perfect” any day. It’s so cool being able to have a debate about why Pais Vasco wants to separate from Spain and how their educational system is corrupt and real topics of substance in another language. We also met a football player from Kansas (who signed with Dartmouth!) and 3 girls from Denmark who spoke English very well. It’s like you don’t even have to try and you end up with new friends everyday here.
Viernes, el 20:
Remembering that incredible 70-foot long buffet was the only thing that dragged Kristina (my roommate for Granada) and I out of bed for breakfast at 9am the next morning. And it didn’t leave me disappointed. We were out of the hotel by 10:15am to visit la Capilla Real, a cathedral where Ferdinand, Isabel, among other Catholic kings and queens were buried. Next, we headed to la Catedral de Granada, because you can never have too many cathedrals, right? Besides the fact that I felt like I was in barefoot in the Alps the entire time we were inside, it was really beautifully adorned with ornate patterns of white and gold.
As soon as we were given free time, all the girls flocked to what I like to call “Hippie Street with an Arabic twist.” This is where the beauty of strong Arabic influence in Andalucia and the Hippie culture had a baby. I was surrounded by tie-dye dresses and handbags, jewelery, jeweled tapestries, shoes, bongs (ha), and more. Colleen and I left Alex alone for one minute and found her spending her last food stipend on a pair of green metallic sandals. This is how seductive Hippie Street is…never go shopping here alone. With help, I managed to leave with buying only one hippie sundress for 12 euros.
Around 2:30, we stopped to enjoy a delicious menu del dia at an outdoor café at the top of the street. Arriving back at the hotel, we slipped on our bathing suits (a harsh taste of the reality of what the Spanish lifestyle will do to your body) and joined a large portion of our group lounging by the beautiful outdoor pool. Later, we returned to our respective rooms to siesta, shower, and get ready for our evening activities.
At 7:30 we met up in the lobby to make our way to a flamenco dinner show. QUE GUAY! The food was pretty disappointing, but the dancing was amazing. I was fortunate enough to snag a seat six inches from the stage. This position, however, proved to have its less fortunate aspects as well when I was very close to being kicked in the face a number of times. I’d also like to send out a warning that flamenco is much more beautiful if you don’t look at the dancer’s face. Each one wore the most pain-ridden, constipated, spastic expressions on their faces the entire time. But maybe this isn’t much better than being told to plaster a ridiculously huge smile on your face in all my ballet performances. There was even a male flamenco dancer…I wonder if they feel the same way about men like him as Americans do male cheerleaders. All joking aside, though, he was hands-down the most talented. Alex and I also enjoyed being stared down by one of the creepy musicians during the majority of the performance. I’ll be sure to put up a picture…the gaze is INTENSE, but also pretty typical of Spanish men.
By the end of the meal, I was pretty stuffed and decided to casually “go UB” (aka UnButton my pants) underneath the tablecloth to allow some breathing room. It’s a sad reality, but this has become almost commonplace since arriving in Spain. Of course when going UB, it’s imperative that one remembers to re-B before getting up from the table again, and that night I neglected to do exactly this. Turning around to push in my chair, feeling strangely loose and free, I presented my un-belted, unbuttoned self to the party of 20-some people at the table behind us. Relatively unfazed, I simply adjusted and walked away. After feeling uncomfortable and out of place, misunderstood, and confused everyday for the past two and a half months, you’d be amazed at how much it now takes for me to get embarrassed.
Sábado el 21:
Enjoying the bountiful buffet breakfast for one last time, we packed up and left the hotel at 9:15 am to visit la Alhambra. This was by far my favorite part of the entire weekend, and I have the pictures to prove it. We spent a total of four hours roaming the gardens outside and the incredible Arabic archways inside. The perfectly clear 70-degree weather also helped add to its already seemingly fake appearance.
At 2:30, Jesus dragged us out to load the bus and head to Córdoba. The only site we visited here was la Mezquita de Córdoba (Mosque of Cordoba). Once again, we oo-ed and awed over the red-striped archways and the beautiful Arabic architecture. After briefing exploring the quaint town, we broke for ice cream and re-boarded the bus at 6:30.
Arriving in Sevilla, I almost had the wind knocked out of me as we entered the hotel. Suspended lighting, atrium-style levels…there was even a mini forest and large fountain! Hombre, we’re spoiled.
Mary (my Sevilla roommate) and I took quick showers and changed to be ready for a group dinner downstairs at 9:30. Sitting at a table with Danny, Thomas, and Alex, we enjoyed yet another incredible meal, which began with the closest thing to an American salad I’ve seen since being in Spain. While this still included iceberg lettuce, there was also corn, tomatoes, hard-boiled egg, tuna, and olives, and honey mustard dressing. After bacaloa (white salty fish) with tomato sauce and peppers, warm bread, and chocolate flan with whipped cream, and café con leche, I was full as a tick. I probably would have gone UB too, but I happened to be wearing a dress.
Tired from a long day of travel, most of us decided to enjoy a low-key evening, enjoying the luxury of free wireless Internet and the “champagne” shower setting.
Domingo el 22:
Another beautiful breakfast at 8:30 the next morning, complete with warm chocolate croissants, jamon, cheese, kiwis, yogurt, and CEREAL!! Although this particular selection didn’t quite measure up to Honey Bunches of Oats, excursions are always such a treat being able to eat cereal again. We are in college after all…it’s just not healthy to go this long without any.
At 9:30, we left the hotel to visit los Reales Alcázares. This was another incredible Arabic palace with equally incredible gardens, complete with tiled walkways, railings wrapped in lilacs, fountains, and ducks. This was yet another place we’ve visited in Spain where you could literally close your eyes, spin in random circles snapping your camera and still end up with professional looking pictures.
At 12:30, we left this Eden for la Plaza de España, which looked more like a semi-circle than a plaza to me. Semi-circle de España…really has a ring to it, doesn’t it. Besides the plethora of fans and scarves and souveniers being sold in la Plaza, I was drawn to the major cities in Spain represented on the perimeter. It was cool to see all the places we’d visited, decorated in their own ornately blue-tiled cove, our favorite of course being the ‘Manc itself.
At 2, we broke for free time, where Sasha, Alex, Kelley, Colleen, Emily, Leah, and I discovered an incredible Cuban café. We sat outside under umbrellas for 2 hours (in the name of Spain), sipping mojitos and gorging ourselves with Arroz a la Cubana, chicken and guacamole, and fried eggplant. After lunch, we met up with Thomas, Danny, and Kristina down by the water and decided to hop on an hour-long boat tour together. Although the tour information was pretty lame, it was a fun way to wrap up the afternoon.
The hotel bus picked us up at 6:15. After showering, checking emails, and changing, most of the group headed into the city once again for a tapas crawl. This is when you start at one tapas (like appetizers) bar, order one or two tapas and a glass of wine or a beer, and walk to the next tapas place to repeat the process. This is what the Spaniards do anyway, but being typical Americans, we filled up at the first place and only made it to one other bar for drinks afterwards. Activities like going out for tapas or for drinks or sitting in the plaza have become so much apart of my everyday life that I sometimes have to step back to remember how cool this actually is! I loved walking down those streets of Sevilla at 11pm, seeing people of all ages standing at outdoor tables, talking and laughing over food and drink. You can really feel the life pulsing through the veins of Spain.
Lunes el 23:
Breakfast at 8 the next morning, we reluctantly left Sevilla for Mérida at 9:15.
Arriving around 12:00 p.m, we visited a Roman amphitheater and theater. GUAY! So much of it is still so well preserved and the parts that were not were a result of Visigodos and other people groups coming taking the materials and re-using them for their own structures. I am truly blown away each time I hear about the Romans and their innovative ideas in engineering and architecture, especially when in our day an age it’s so easy to look back and label past civilizations as foolish compared to ourselves.
At 1:30 we were given free time, knowing that we wouldn’t be leaving again until 3:30. If you knew how small of a nothing town Mérida is, you would have been a little panicked too. We just about bought out the Spanish subway and the adjacent ice cream shop, both of which were being worked by one poor frantic man. Our presence had probably temporarily doubled the population of Mérida. After lunch and ice cream, Alex, Will, Danny, and I walked around stopping soon after for a café con leche at another outdoor café. I’ll probably have to slowly wean myself off of this café lifestyle before returning back to the states☹
We hopped back on good old Tres Pilares and returned home in Sal a little before 8pm. Before I conclude this extremely long post, I’d like to explain a little something about our love-hate relationship with our excursion bus, Tres Pilares, which has accumulated a wide variety of nicknames like “Tres P,” “T cubed,” and just plain “TP.” Driven by dear old Lucio (who not even the fluent girl in our group can understand), Tres P constantly smells of feet and BO, lacks ventilation, bathroom and legroom of any kind. And yet, we’ve become strangely attached to this disgusting bus over the course of our excursions.
We left the ‘Manc at 8:30 am Thursday morning and with three stops, we arrived in Granada at yet another beautiful 4-star hotel around 4:30 pm. Andalucia (southern region of Spain) isn’t exactly around the corner. At 5:30, we visited El Barrio del Albaycín where we enjoyed an incredible view of La Alhambra (Arabic Palace where Ferdinand and Isabel lived at one point) and snow-capped mountains in the distance. It wasn’t long before we discovered that Granada is a hippie’s paradise. There were packs of young adults in MC Hammer pants gathered together smoking hash, drinking forties, and selling beads.
At 9 pm, we enjoyed a fabulous buffet dinner complete with everything from buttery salmon and pasta to green olives and an assortment of cheeses. Besides the 50-some-year-old waiter hitting on at least 5 of us girls during the course of our meal, I’d say it wasn’t too shabby.
Later that night, I popped open my finest 69-cent white wine (that’s got to be a record…I’m sure the majority of that was to pay for the bottle) and then headed out to a local bar. My highlight of the evening was meeting some middle-aged Spaniards and being told that my Spanish was almost perfect. Pick-up line or not, I’ll take “almost perfect” any day. It’s so cool being able to have a debate about why Pais Vasco wants to separate from Spain and how their educational system is corrupt and real topics of substance in another language. We also met a football player from Kansas (who signed with Dartmouth!) and 3 girls from Denmark who spoke English very well. It’s like you don’t even have to try and you end up with new friends everyday here.
Viernes, el 20:
Remembering that incredible 70-foot long buffet was the only thing that dragged Kristina (my roommate for Granada) and I out of bed for breakfast at 9am the next morning. And it didn’t leave me disappointed. We were out of the hotel by 10:15am to visit la Capilla Real, a cathedral where Ferdinand, Isabel, among other Catholic kings and queens were buried. Next, we headed to la Catedral de Granada, because you can never have too many cathedrals, right? Besides the fact that I felt like I was in barefoot in the Alps the entire time we were inside, it was really beautifully adorned with ornate patterns of white and gold.
As soon as we were given free time, all the girls flocked to what I like to call “Hippie Street with an Arabic twist.” This is where the beauty of strong Arabic influence in Andalucia and the Hippie culture had a baby. I was surrounded by tie-dye dresses and handbags, jewelery, jeweled tapestries, shoes, bongs (ha), and more. Colleen and I left Alex alone for one minute and found her spending her last food stipend on a pair of green metallic sandals. This is how seductive Hippie Street is…never go shopping here alone. With help, I managed to leave with buying only one hippie sundress for 12 euros.
Around 2:30, we stopped to enjoy a delicious menu del dia at an outdoor café at the top of the street. Arriving back at the hotel, we slipped on our bathing suits (a harsh taste of the reality of what the Spanish lifestyle will do to your body) and joined a large portion of our group lounging by the beautiful outdoor pool. Later, we returned to our respective rooms to siesta, shower, and get ready for our evening activities.
At 7:30 we met up in the lobby to make our way to a flamenco dinner show. QUE GUAY! The food was pretty disappointing, but the dancing was amazing. I was fortunate enough to snag a seat six inches from the stage. This position, however, proved to have its less fortunate aspects as well when I was very close to being kicked in the face a number of times. I’d also like to send out a warning that flamenco is much more beautiful if you don’t look at the dancer’s face. Each one wore the most pain-ridden, constipated, spastic expressions on their faces the entire time. But maybe this isn’t much better than being told to plaster a ridiculously huge smile on your face in all my ballet performances. There was even a male flamenco dancer…I wonder if they feel the same way about men like him as Americans do male cheerleaders. All joking aside, though, he was hands-down the most talented. Alex and I also enjoyed being stared down by one of the creepy musicians during the majority of the performance. I’ll be sure to put up a picture…the gaze is INTENSE, but also pretty typical of Spanish men.
By the end of the meal, I was pretty stuffed and decided to casually “go UB” (aka UnButton my pants) underneath the tablecloth to allow some breathing room. It’s a sad reality, but this has become almost commonplace since arriving in Spain. Of course when going UB, it’s imperative that one remembers to re-B before getting up from the table again, and that night I neglected to do exactly this. Turning around to push in my chair, feeling strangely loose and free, I presented my un-belted, unbuttoned self to the party of 20-some people at the table behind us. Relatively unfazed, I simply adjusted and walked away. After feeling uncomfortable and out of place, misunderstood, and confused everyday for the past two and a half months, you’d be amazed at how much it now takes for me to get embarrassed.
Sábado el 21:
Enjoying the bountiful buffet breakfast for one last time, we packed up and left the hotel at 9:15 am to visit la Alhambra. This was by far my favorite part of the entire weekend, and I have the pictures to prove it. We spent a total of four hours roaming the gardens outside and the incredible Arabic archways inside. The perfectly clear 70-degree weather also helped add to its already seemingly fake appearance.
At 2:30, Jesus dragged us out to load the bus and head to Córdoba. The only site we visited here was la Mezquita de Córdoba (Mosque of Cordoba). Once again, we oo-ed and awed over the red-striped archways and the beautiful Arabic architecture. After briefing exploring the quaint town, we broke for ice cream and re-boarded the bus at 6:30.
Arriving in Sevilla, I almost had the wind knocked out of me as we entered the hotel. Suspended lighting, atrium-style levels…there was even a mini forest and large fountain! Hombre, we’re spoiled.
Mary (my Sevilla roommate) and I took quick showers and changed to be ready for a group dinner downstairs at 9:30. Sitting at a table with Danny, Thomas, and Alex, we enjoyed yet another incredible meal, which began with the closest thing to an American salad I’ve seen since being in Spain. While this still included iceberg lettuce, there was also corn, tomatoes, hard-boiled egg, tuna, and olives, and honey mustard dressing. After bacaloa (white salty fish) with tomato sauce and peppers, warm bread, and chocolate flan with whipped cream, and café con leche, I was full as a tick. I probably would have gone UB too, but I happened to be wearing a dress.
Tired from a long day of travel, most of us decided to enjoy a low-key evening, enjoying the luxury of free wireless Internet and the “champagne” shower setting.
Domingo el 22:
Another beautiful breakfast at 8:30 the next morning, complete with warm chocolate croissants, jamon, cheese, kiwis, yogurt, and CEREAL!! Although this particular selection didn’t quite measure up to Honey Bunches of Oats, excursions are always such a treat being able to eat cereal again. We are in college after all…it’s just not healthy to go this long without any.
At 9:30, we left the hotel to visit los Reales Alcázares. This was another incredible Arabic palace with equally incredible gardens, complete with tiled walkways, railings wrapped in lilacs, fountains, and ducks. This was yet another place we’ve visited in Spain where you could literally close your eyes, spin in random circles snapping your camera and still end up with professional looking pictures.
At 12:30, we left this Eden for la Plaza de España, which looked more like a semi-circle than a plaza to me. Semi-circle de España…really has a ring to it, doesn’t it. Besides the plethora of fans and scarves and souveniers being sold in la Plaza, I was drawn to the major cities in Spain represented on the perimeter. It was cool to see all the places we’d visited, decorated in their own ornately blue-tiled cove, our favorite of course being the ‘Manc itself.
At 2, we broke for free time, where Sasha, Alex, Kelley, Colleen, Emily, Leah, and I discovered an incredible Cuban café. We sat outside under umbrellas for 2 hours (in the name of Spain), sipping mojitos and gorging ourselves with Arroz a la Cubana, chicken and guacamole, and fried eggplant. After lunch, we met up with Thomas, Danny, and Kristina down by the water and decided to hop on an hour-long boat tour together. Although the tour information was pretty lame, it was a fun way to wrap up the afternoon.
The hotel bus picked us up at 6:15. After showering, checking emails, and changing, most of the group headed into the city once again for a tapas crawl. This is when you start at one tapas (like appetizers) bar, order one or two tapas and a glass of wine or a beer, and walk to the next tapas place to repeat the process. This is what the Spaniards do anyway, but being typical Americans, we filled up at the first place and only made it to one other bar for drinks afterwards. Activities like going out for tapas or for drinks or sitting in the plaza have become so much apart of my everyday life that I sometimes have to step back to remember how cool this actually is! I loved walking down those streets of Sevilla at 11pm, seeing people of all ages standing at outdoor tables, talking and laughing over food and drink. You can really feel the life pulsing through the veins of Spain.
Lunes el 23:
Breakfast at 8 the next morning, we reluctantly left Sevilla for Mérida at 9:15.
Arriving around 12:00 p.m, we visited a Roman amphitheater and theater. GUAY! So much of it is still so well preserved and the parts that were not were a result of Visigodos and other people groups coming taking the materials and re-using them for their own structures. I am truly blown away each time I hear about the Romans and their innovative ideas in engineering and architecture, especially when in our day an age it’s so easy to look back and label past civilizations as foolish compared to ourselves.
At 1:30 we were given free time, knowing that we wouldn’t be leaving again until 3:30. If you knew how small of a nothing town Mérida is, you would have been a little panicked too. We just about bought out the Spanish subway and the adjacent ice cream shop, both of which were being worked by one poor frantic man. Our presence had probably temporarily doubled the population of Mérida. After lunch and ice cream, Alex, Will, Danny, and I walked around stopping soon after for a café con leche at another outdoor café. I’ll probably have to slowly wean myself off of this café lifestyle before returning back to the states☹
We hopped back on good old Tres Pilares and returned home in Sal a little before 8pm. Before I conclude this extremely long post, I’d like to explain a little something about our love-hate relationship with our excursion bus, Tres Pilares, which has accumulated a wide variety of nicknames like “Tres P,” “T cubed,” and just plain “TP.” Driven by dear old Lucio (who not even the fluent girl in our group can understand), Tres P constantly smells of feet and BO, lacks ventilation, bathroom and legroom of any kind. And yet, we’ve become strangely attached to this disgusting bus over the course of our excursions.
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