That Friday morning, April 25th, 2014, we got up early to get to the bus pickup for our weekend-long trip. We thought we’d be late, but ended up making it in plenty of time. The first part of the trip was to a place called La Rábida in the Huelva province, and everyone in our program was supposed to go. Once there, each bus became a group. My group first went to see Las Tres Carabelas - replicas of the 3 Christopher Columbus ships, which were floating in an area of water that was separated from the rest of the sea. They were really cool, and Megan and I had a blast climbing down into the ships and taking pictures up on the platforms, hanging onto the ropes. I sat on a huge barrel in the bottom of one, and the biggest, the Santa Maria, featured Columbus’s personal office where there was a sculpture of him looking over his charts. There were also pig legs hanging from the walls in the holds. Should I have been surprised? The ships were a whole lot smaller than I had imagined them to be. It’s hard to think of all of the men on these ships for weeks on end with just the small cargo holds as shelter. Then we watched a film about the discovery of America. Columbus is made out to be a huge superhero in Spain, and rightfully so. It would be against human nature for his country to look down on someone who had made such a significant discovery, even if the jerk was responsible for the mass slaughter of the Native American culture. Next, we drove just up the road to a monastery, which happens to be the place where Columbus prayed before his quest. It was really cool. There were a ton of historical artifacts. I really enjoyed the old maps and flags of each country, and I felt like a bit of a traitor when I was excited about the Spanish flag and totally forgot to take a picture of the American one. Oops. We sat in the sanctuary and walked up into the room with the long table where Columbus and his comrades made their big plans. The courtyard was beautiful and full of flowers. I got frustrated with some of the kids in the program when, once again, they were talking over top of the guide, and I couldn’t hear. This is always what happens when a trip is mandatory. We used the restrooms and got back on the bus to head to the beach! It was an hour or so away, and we went to a beach called Mazagón. It was very secluded, and there were few others on the beach aside from our group. Megan, Caitlin, Rebecca and I set up our towels and ate our packed lunches. Carmen had packed Brittany and I each 2 bocadillos for the long trip, which means that she used a lot of olive oil, and all of my stuff somehow ended up covered in it. At least it’s supposed to be really healthy for your skin! After we finished eating, I went and put my feet in the water. I hadn’t bothered wearing my swimsuit under my clothes, because I knew that the water would be freezing, and also that there was more beach time yet to come! My friend Sam kept trying to splash me, and we all had fun running around in the freezing water. Next, Caitlin and I took a little jog up the beach. The sand was pretty shelly, and I thought my feet were probably bleeding, but the beautiful sun glistening on the water and the salty breeze told me to keep going. Eventually we came to a rocky inlet that we couldn’t get around, so we turned around and walked back. People probably thought we were crazy, but I’ve always loved a good run on the beach. Then the 4 of us took a walk in the opposite direction. We sang Disney songs, Megan and I danced Flamenco, and we took tons of goofy pictures. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the water, and we had a blast. I wrote “Sevilla 2014 -- No Me Ha Dejado ,” in the sand, and got a bunch of pictures with it. I knew that I would appreciate those pictures later on. After we could no longer see our group and our feet got a little tired, we turned to walk back. We were all feeling a little well-sunned, and retired to our sunscreen and laying on our towels for the last hour. It was extremely windy, and the sand whipping by stung quite a bit, but still, the sun felt good and there wasn’t anywhere else to go! It was a deserted area. While we were laying there, I was digging around in the sand with my fingers, and I grabbed ahold of something. I pulled it out, and it was this tiny little girl’s bracelet with letters. It spelled out, “Violeta.” I was shocked out of my mind. Violeta was my Spanish name in high school. How had this actually just happened? It was one of those moments when you know that you were in the right place at the right time. I hadn’t met a single person in Spain by that name, but here was this poor lost bracelet, right on the beach where I was laying and digging with my fingers. Wow. Soon, it was time to get going back to the buses. We all had sand all in our hair and stuck to our warm skin. It felt pretty gross, but hey, we couldn’t complain. Those who weren’t continuing on to Portugal went home in the first bus, and the rest of us waited with our bags for the other to show up. It soon did, and we got in. Company rules stated that the driver had to take a half hour break before we could get going, so we spent a half hour sitting on the chilly bus. I got a little bit of reading done for my lit class, but I spent a while looking at my pictures, and another while sleeping. I’m always so productive on trips. I sat with Megan for the 3 hour trip, which seemed to go by quickly. It was crazy to think that we were traveling to yet another country in such a short time! In the States, it takes forever to get abroad, but in Europe, it’s like traveling between PA and North Carolina. It was almost dark when we arrived at the hotel. I was assigned to room with Alexis, a girl I liked but hadn’t talked to much. The room was nice and spacious enough. The best part, though, was the balcony. We could walk out the sliding glass door and look to our left at the last rays of sun setting on the ocean. It was incredible. Everyone got settled into their rooms, and then a group of us went to a nearby Italian restaurant for dinner. Sam, Chantelle, Megan, Brittany, Katie Grace, Mike, Alexis, and I ended up sitting at a makeshift table outside, since the restaurant was full. We didn’t mind. The weather was pretty nice, albeit a bit cold. We all ordered personal pizzas, which were big, but very thin. I ordered one with mushrooms, onion, and bacon. It was fabulous. I remember being annoyed at myself for having expected American bacon, but the Portuguese version wasn’t bad. We talked and laughed and had a grand old time. Some of the girls were considering going out after dinner, but I was way too tired to even think about it. I went back to the hotel with the rest of the group, took a long hot shower, and spent some time sitting on our little deck before I got ready for bed. I was at the beach in Portugal. Wow. In the morning, I went with Megan, Katie Grace, and Mike into the ‘center.’ The place was pretty small so I don’t know if it can really be considered a city, but definitely a touristy little beach town. It was really cute. I bought a pair of flipflops and some sunscreen, and we went into some tourist shops where I bought a tiny little rooster keychain. There is a famous story in Portugal in which someone who was convicted of stealing said that if the cock crowed when he was on trial or something, that he was innocent. The rooster crowed and the felon went free. It’s pretty interesting. But the keychain is very cute! We decided to go to one of the beaches in the center, rather than going back to the hotel beach where all of the crazies from our program would be. We walked along one of the main roads, alongside the ocean. It was beautiful, crystal clear, and infinite. We took some pictures, and then were approached by a man with a sign advertising boat rides. We weren’t going to do it, but when he lowered the price, Megan decided that we should, and we all agreed! There were a ton of people doing these boat rides, and it didn’t seem too sketchy. We got down into the motor boat and put on our life jackets. We started out slowly, but quickly got moving through the water. We took lots and lots of pictures as we weaved in and out of the cliff sides. The walls of rock were beautifully colored yellows and greens, and they made really cool formations that the driver took us through. The sun was shining hot, so we put that sunscreen to work and enjoyed the ocean spray and smell of the sea. Megan and I talked and talked on the front bench, the wind whipping our hair in every direction. It was SO much fun. We waved to other groups, and eventually realized we were passing by the hotel beach, where we could see the tiny figures of our friends off in the distance. Eventually we turned back around for the return trip. I tried to take in every sight and smell. I knew this would be one of the moments I will never forget. After the ride, we continued down the road toward the beach. It was a really long walk, and we weren’t positive where we were going. At one point, we saw a poor lady on the sidewalk who was selling fresh strawberries. We bought 2 boxes to share for a snack as we walked. Man oh day were they sweet! Megan and I tried to make ours last, but we didn’t do a very good job. Soon, we were crossing the bridge over a waterway with tons of sailboats floating on it. We headed off the beaten track, up over some grassy dunes and down a sandy road. Eventually we crested the sand and saw the ocean opening up before us. The temperature was perfect and the sun was shining. We set up our towels a bit away from the water and re-applied sunscreen. We didn’t want to end up looking like lobsters for the rest of the trip. Megan came with me to put our feet in, but I was the only one brave enough to really get into the frigid water. I was in up to my shoulders for about 10 minutes until I couldn’t really feel my limbs anymore and decided to retreat to the shore. We laid out on our towels for a really long time. Megan got restless and joined a game of beach volleyball a little ways away. I was tempted to play, but opted to talk with Katie Grace and Mike instead. We chatted about education and Spanish and history and the future and all sorts of things and had a really great time. As the hand s on my watch spun, we decided to get moving. All of our bocadillos had been in pretty sad shape when we went to eat them, so we ended up going back into town to find lunch instead. We walked for a while until we saw a place with decent prices. We sat down on comfy, modern seats outside and ordered pizzas, again. I’m pretty sure I got mushroom, onion, and shrimp. I am ever so predictable. It was one of the best pizzas I’ve ever had; that, or I was just really really hungry. As we were sitting there, I got on the wifi at an optimal moment, as I received a message from one of my SAI sisters that they were doing elections for the next year and wanted to know if I was okay with being nominated. I would eventually learn that I had been voted as the committee head for the annual Benefit Concert event! I was very excited to be thought of from so far away. This made my heart hurt and I longed to see my friends, but at the same time, I was having such a blast that I couldn’t stay sad for long. We talked to a native for about half an hour who was very surprised that we were as fit as we were, seeing as we are Americans. I got a little mad, but I couldn’t blame him. Stereotypes are a tricky thing when you study abroad, and it just opens your eyes to how ethnocentric and close-minded we all are about each other. Once we were done eating, we made the trek back to our hotel, exhausted. We set 30 minutes to drop off our things and freshen up before we met to head down to the hotel beach. By this time, most everyone had left the beach there, so it was very calm, and a little chilly. The sand was ridiculously thick and sharp. It hurt to walk on it, but the beautiful surroundings were so worth the pain. You could see through the water like it wasn’t there, and the colors of the ocean bottom were just incredible. I decided to be adventurous and waded my way out toward a big rock. I was fascinated by the tide pools that had formed on it, and I found a sea urchin – one of my favorite childhood obsessions. I did many a science project on sea urchins when I was little, and this made me feel like my parents were there with me. They would have loved to have seen it. Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Megan and Katie Grace came to join me on the rock. We all almost fell in a time or two, and I think I did when the big crab came scurrying across the rock, scaring us all. Of course, everyone had to keep making shark jokes, since I’m terrified of them. Though I knew there weren’t sharks in the water, the mere thought of them kept me from going back in. We walked around the small cove for a while, collecting shells and rocks, as it seemed like each piece of gravely sand was an extraordinary different color. I collected a bunch for my sister, seeing as she loves to make jewelry. Unfortunately, when the stones dried, they weren’t nearly as breath taking. But that’s okay. When our feet could no longer take the beating of the sand, we went back up the cliff to the hotel to change. I showered and made myself somewhat presentable before we took a bus trip out to the Cabo de San Vicente in Sagres to watch the sunset. I road with Carrie and we had a wonderful life chats on the bus. When we got there, the weather chose not to cooperate. We were on extremely high cliffs that dropped straight off into the ocean. It was an incredible view, but the wind was threatening to blow us away, and a cold drizzle fell on us as we walked around the mountain. We didn’t last long, and everyone was back on the bus in under twenty minutes. Some people were bummed that the trip had been a bust, but personally, I really enjoyed feeling all Lord of the Rings on top of the blustery mountain. The bus took us back to the hotel, and a big group of us walked to a fancier restaurant. We sat at a big table where everyone could fit and ordered. I got a big piece of salmon covered in caramelized onions and a sweet sauce with baked potatoes on the side. A bunch of us ordered that same thing, which turned out to be a good decision. This was one of the most memorable meals of my entire semester. We were rowdy and having a great time, fitting in with the noisy locals at the other tables. It was Rachel’s birthday, so while she was in the bathroom, we secretly ordered her a desert and sang happy birthday to her when her cream pie came out. It was adorable, and I think it made her birthday quite special. There was talk of everyone hanging out back at the hotel, but when we got there, everyone was so tired that we all just went to bed. I packed my things in the morning and met Megan and a few others for breakfast in the hotel. It was a half decent buffet, but nothing to write home about. We loaded our bags under the bus and took off for Albufeira, another beach town a few hours away. This town was very bright and alive. We all walked as a group the half hour in to the beach, so that we knew where to go, looking at all of the tourist stands on our way. The beach was beautiful, and the water was perfect, as it was really warm out today. Almost everyone on the trip went to the beach first. I stood and chatted with Theresa while we splashed around in the tide for about an hour. Then we joined everyone on towels to tan. I find it funny. Everyone was so paranoid about burning, yet we spent the vast majority of the trip trying to get sun. It makes no sense. The sun did feel splendid on my face and I laid there listening to everyone’s conversations. It was a great time to be alive. The heat of the day arrived, and about 8 of us went to find lunch. We found a nice little place off one of the main streets and went in. I ordered garlic bread and a plate of cooked vegetables, (see, my demise had obviously already started). It was great, and we all sat around and talked for a long time. It’s amazing how much energy the sun takes away from you. After that, we went souvenir shopping for a bit, which I got bored with quickly. Soon, Carrie and I took off on our own. We watched some street performers in the big town square and then went in search of a grocery store. It took asking a few locals until we found it. Once there, we bought strawberries and dark chocolate, running back to join the group before the bus left. I was very happy with our decision to get these instead of ice cream. They were so fresh and sweet, and I wasn’t angry at myself for eating them. Albufeira was one of my favorite places we visited, and it was a wonderful day spent with friends. There was nothing that actually spectacular about the town itself, I don’t think. It was just the right place at the right time, and that day I didn’t feel lonely or foreign. We just did our thing and had a great time. I think it was thanks in part to doing everything with a bigger group. As much as I had avoided groups through most of the semester, they definitely have their perks, and I had a fabulous trip to Portugal with them. From Albufeira, the bus took us home to Seville. Thankfully, the bus driver did that beautifully gracious and kind and perfect thing where he stopped by the Triana Bridge on his way to the normal stop, saving us 45 minutes of walking time. Sandy and tired, we arrived home to Carmen. This place felt more like home every time we came back to it. She commented on my tan, fed us a good supper, and sent us to bed to rest up for school in the morning. |
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Well, I realize this is quite a bit late, but I figure if I don’t finish these entries now, I never will! I am going to do my very best to try to remember my usual amount of detail, but this is going to take some memory work. It is also very difficult to reminisce at this point, because I am home and missing Spain terribly, but I will do my best! The week leading up to the trip was rather eventful. We were preparing for our big “Pre-Feria Flamenco Parade,” which would be happening at school the following Wednesday. For this occasion, we almost all of the girls who took the dance class were trying on a bunch of Flamenco dresses that were lent to the school for the parade. The only issue is, Flamenco dresses are intended to fit like a glove. Literally, if you can breathe without difficulty, it’s not tight enough. Consequently, trying to find secondhand dresses that fit well is nearly impossible. And it so happens that all of the women who had donated their dresses for these 2 weeks, didn’t really have shoulders. Even some of the very very very thin girls were having issues trying to find a dress, so what was I to do?! I had asked my host family, choir, and friends if they knew of anyone who might have one that would fit, but I was coming up short. That Tuesday was the first parade practice, and my dance teacher Lola, & my favorite director, Virginia, had told me that if I couldn’t find one by then, that they would help me get a practice skirt that I could find a blouse to go with. I was so disappointed. I had been the only one really looking forward to this thing from the beginning of the semester, and the thought of being the only one without a dress, (the rest who couldn’t find one had just given up on participating in the parade by this point), was really tough to swallow. However, the day came, and my wonderful friend Claire let me try on the dress that she was to wear, which belonged to her host sister. It was red and ruffly with tiny white polka dots. And it fit. It was perfect, and I felt like I owned the world when I was in it. But… that was Claire’s dress to wear. So out of the goodness of her heart, she tried on all of the dresses left that had been lent to the school, and she found a purple velvety dress that she fit into, with green compliments, in which she looked absolutely radiant. She let me wear the red dress, and we both looked fabulous!!! I was so excited; I could’ve probably passed out. The practices were a little uncomfortable. We all stood in a line on the side of the patio, and one by one took turns strutting down the aisle to different styles of music. It was incredibly awkward and we all felt like idiots. Some people got really mad that we had to go to 3 practices to practice walking, but I think by the time the day of the parade rolled around, they understood why it was necessary. Claire and I found out that a bit of wine before the rehearsals helped immensely with our self-confidence. We rehearsed Tuesday and Thursday. Wednesday was my favorite day of that week, though, because Brittany and I went on an adventure! Isa had invited us to her house for lunch and, after the customary pushing-back of our meeting time and buying a bouquet of yellow flowers for her family, we walked 10 minutes away near the Parque de los Principes where I would go to journal, and hopped on the metro for a quick ride to the San Juan Bajo station. Isabel had reminded me to text her when we were getting on, but of course I forgot. She was there within minutes to collect us, though, and we drove in her little city car to her neighborhood, Castilleja de la Cuesta. Castilleja is a beautiful little town outside of Sevilla. You can tell there is more money in this area than in some others, and I was so excited to see a new part of our home. We pulled in and parked by her house. All of the houses are very close together, and have a big wall out front with each house having its own gate. We went in and hugged her mother, to whom I gave the flowers. She was quite touched by our gesture, which was good. I had been pretty nervous that maybe the Spanish don’t do those things, but Carmen said it would be fine, and usually my host mom knew what she was talking about. Isa showed us around her house, which was pretty big! The kitchen was nice, as was the living room. There were Flamenco dresses all over the living room that belonged to different people, as well as the half-completed red dress that Isa’s mom was making for her for this year’s Feria! It was gorgeous, and I couldn’t wait to see it done! Isa’s room was quite what I expected it to be. She has a ton of bags, a desk with her computer where she spends all of her time studying, posters of bands and places on the wall. She’s such a hipster, I swear. Her sister Adelaida, (Ade), had recently gotten her own apartment, so her room was fairly empty, aside from the massive pile of purses on her bed, which Isa claims don’t belong to her, but I’m not sure if I really believe her. We also saw her brother Antonio’s room upstairs, which seems like the perfect man cave hideout, similar to my brother’s room in my house at home. After the tour, we went downstairs just in time for Ade to arrive with her new golden lab puppy, Lennon, (Yes, he is named for John Lennon). That puppy is so darn cute. He has the biggest paws, and was so very sleepy the whole time we were there. We played with him for a while and then sat down once Isa’s mom started serving lunch. She set out a tray with meats and cheeses for us to ‘picar,’ which is kind of like to pick at. They call finger foods like that picos. The main meal was Salmorejo, which is a cold tomato-based soup with cheese, egg, and ham. I really liked it, but Antonio, Ade, and Isa complained that it was way too vinegary. Isa’s mom even thought she had messed up the recipe somehow, and told us we didn’t have to eat it. But as Americans, the strong flavor wasn’t unusual for us. She also made tortilla de papas, which Carmen made for us quite often, but Isa’s mom’s was better, as were her croquetas. They kept encouraging us to eat more, but I thought I might explode if I did! My favorite part of the meal was watching Isa and her family interact. Ade is the oldest, then Isa, then Antonio, who was actually turning 24 that day. So after the meal, their mom came out with a surprise birthday cake, and we sang to him before he blew out the candles. It was such a serendipitous thing that we had come on his birthday! The 3 siblings cracked me up. They were constantly at each other, but clearly out of love and respect for one another, which made me miss my big brother and sister immensely. I had really been missing this aspect of my life, and it was super cool to see Isa interacting with her siblings. Once you’ve seen someone’s home and met their family, you just understand so much more of where they come from. They were hilarious and I loved all of them. We let our stomachs settle for a bit and then the 3 of us took a walk to go to one of Isa’s favorite bars to have a drink and check out the ambience. It was about a 20 minute walk, and it was extremely hot out. We settled into a nice shaded seating area outside and I ordered a very lemony, sugary drink, which was Isa’s recommendation. It was delicious, and packed a bit of a punch, too. Brittany had a tinto de verano, which has always been her favorite, and one of mine, too! We talked a lot about the possibilities of future visits to the US or Spain, and what we would all be doing during the summer and such. It was starting to set in that we wouldn’t be seeing each other too many more times before our trip home, and that freaked me out a little. I love Isa and not seeing her for a few years would be the actual worst thing. I knew that I really needed to enjoy this time that we did have left together. We walked home, thanked her family, and Isa drove us back to Triana. It had been a fabulous day, and I was in a great mood. Brittany had gotten frustrated as the day went on, because everyone was speaking really quickly, and it does get hard to keep up. We spent about an hour quietly relaxing in our room before I had to walk to the school to meet for the “Only Speaking Spanish” nominees’ dinner thing. Everyone who had won a week of the Spanish Only competition was invited to go for tapas with 2 of the professors from school, one of which happened to be Mila, my lit prof, who I love dearly. We went to a really neat place a few minutes from school to which I had not previously been. It was really nice. I sat with two friends, Emily and Natalie, both of whom I like very much, and everyone spoke Spanish the whole time, which was so refreshing compared to the usual English chatter. I ordered tortillitas de bacalao, which are like, fried strips of dough with a bit of cod and vegetable in it, along with the house white wine. They were super delicious. We then had a second round, for which I ordered a montadito de salmon almohada, which is a smoked salmon sandwich, which I also liked. It was a very enjoyable evening, and before I knew it, it was 10:30, and I needed to get home! The walk home was beautiful that night. The air was clear and a perfect temperature. My favorite accordion player was on the bridge that night, too. It felt like Spain. I was in heaven. Thursday I had my classes all day, including a meeting at 11:30 for the weekend’s trip to Portugal! Also, instead of having my bocadillo lunch in the lounge as usual, Claire and I went to the Taj Mahal for some more of our favorite Indian cuisine. It was so fun. I love spending time with Claire so much, and our practice was pretty fun, too, though we both had eaten enough to make zipping our dresses a more difficult than before. We weren’t sorry. I was getting pretty excited for the parade, even though about 8 people hadn’t shown up for rehearsal, since they were all beyond doing all of the practice that us amateurs were attending. Whatever. I spent some time that evening reading my book, Entre Visillos, that I would need to finish soon to write my final paper for my Women Writers of Spain class. (I can’t remember if I’ve written about this book yet or not, but it is a difficult social commentary of over 250 pages, and some other people’s , were about 50 pages and easy, which became frustrating). If I remember correctly, I had had a few invitations to go hang out with people that night, but knowing that I needed to be up early the next day was my motivation to stay in and get some extra sleep. The Portugal trip would need all of my energy for the weekend! (Hey, what do you know? It doesn't take half an hour to put a picture on here in America!)
After I got home from London, which was weeks ago now, oops, I spent about a day catching up on my rest and trying to keep cool in one of our first heat waves of the spring. Thursday my choir sang at a service in La Iglesia de San Alberto, where we practice. I left home early, knowing it could take forever to get through the center, and my timing, just before the Center’s Thursday paso started, was quite ideal.
I went into the sanctuary part of the church for the first time, and I was blown away by now beautiful it was. We were positioned in the back, making it easy for me to see everything the Spanish people were doing, without seeming like a total creep. I could follow the service for the most part, though a bulletin would have been nice, and the sermon completely lost me. I loved being with my choir and looking like part of the group, even if it had meant speed walking an hour there in my black dress pants, long black sleeves, and heels in 95 degree sunny weather. One of the older ladies who always talks to me let me use her fan, too. A decent amount of people were in attendance, but there was really no need for us to be so cramped in the back. For that reason, I was quite glad once the service ended. We went to the front for a group photo, and I passed by and said hello to my speaking module professor, who was dressed in a Mantilla, a black lacy veil to be worn with a black dress by women ONLY this day of the year. She was beautiful, as were all of the others who were dressed up. Luckily, I had thought ahead enough to pack shorts, a t-shirt, and shoes to walk home. I may have looked like just another tourist, but during Semana Santa, you’re pretty hip if you have half a clue where you’re going. On my way home, I experienced my very first Semana Santa paso. Now, what this is is that each big church has an hermandad (brotherhood), and they seek permission to have a sort of parade to the cathedral during Holy Week. They start at the church with interminable lines of Nazarenos, which are religious people dressed in cloaks with the pointy hats that slightly resemble Death Eaters or the KKK. The Nazareno march is a form of penitence, but with as much Harry Potter as I’ve seen, the black ones still have a tendency to freak me out a bit. After them comes the main attraction – the Paso. A paso is like a big float with an image of the Virgin Mary or Jesus on it, and they tend to be overwhelmingly ornate with silver & gold decorations, big dripping candles, and hand-carved wax flowers. The Virgin Marys even have elaborate hand-made outfits into which they are changed, just for the occasion. The big deal is that rather than a truck pulling the float, men from the hermandad carry it. There are dozens of them hidden beneath the float skirt, and they practice all year to be in step with their precious heavy cargo, all the way to the Cathedral and back. WHY would you want to do that? Tradition is tradition, I suppose. So as I was walking home, this Paso, always accompanied by wonderful brass music, I should add, was moving through the Plaza Nueva. I thought I was in the clear to get by, but the hundreds of white and purple Nazarenos were blocking up the streets everywhere. As if the stampede of wide-eyed tourists wasn’t enough, the Nazarenos were sluggishly creeping through all of my exit options. It probably took me a good 40 minutes to elbow my way out of there. The Paso was cool, but I had seen certain ones practicing before and the big Macarena museum, so I didn’t have much desire to join the crowds of onlookers. I wasn’t home for long before Caitlin wanted to meet up to talk about our trips before she took off on her next one to Amsterdam the following day. We met at the Triana Bridge and settled at a bar on San Jacinto. I had tortillitas de gambas, (Fried shrimp tortilla type things), and she had croquetas. The food was superb and it was so nice to sit and chat with her in the cooler evening air. Over the next few days, we didn’t do much. I procrastinated doing my reading for class, spent a lot of time on Facebook and sleeping. It was just so hot everywhere, most places were closed for Holy Week, and I didn’t feel like braving the heat to get Nazareno-trapped again. Not like the heat outside is much worse than inside, since we have no air conditioning, but the houses are designed to try to stay cooler. We did, however, got ot eh Madrugada dawn Paso for the Esperanza de Triana church at 3 in the morning on Friday. Brittany and I walked to join the probably 5-10,000 people waiting near the Triana Bridge, which is a lot for 3 am in a city of less than a million people. We elbowed our way in and waited for about 40 minutes until the Paso came through. The music was incredible, and the Paso showed a horse followed by Jesus carrying the cross. Also, rich people will hire professional vocalists to sing ‘Saetas,’ which are long, complex orations to the Virgins on the Pasos as they go by. As soon as someone starts to sing, the whole crowd gets quiet to try to hear. It’s a really cool experience. I think we heard parts of 3 different Saetas that morning. We took lots of pictures and then the crowd dissipated as some followed the march and the rest of us retreated towards home and sleep. The next day Brittany got extremely bored, so eventually we went out for ice cream and then for a walk in the park. It was a beautiful evening and we walked around and reminisced on a bench with our sodapop about the things we’d done and how quickly the time went. We were finally to that point of loving Sevilla enough to not want to go home, and we had just under a month left to enjoy it. Easter day was a bit difficult, as Semana Santa is a big gallant build up to Boring Sunday in Spain. Everything is closed, but nobody does anything. We watched Freaky Friday again and tried to have fun, not dwelling on the fact that our family traditions were being carried on at home without us. It certainly was nobody’s fault. The world does not, in fact, stop turning just because you’re on the other side of it. Those are the toughest days, though, when you feel like you’re missing out here and there at the same time. As a study abroad student, you only half count as a real person, so when there are only real people things going on, you sit in a room on Facebook, trying to find your other half and figure out where you’re actually supposed to be right now. Usually by the next day, it’s better. And if I remember correctly, for me, it was. We slept in quite late Saturday and got up in time to have a lunch of rice and corn in the cafeteria at Regent’s. Ann despises the food there. I didn’t think it was so bad. Next, we walked to the train station to buy my Oyster card, which is London’s transportation card. I put 20 pounds on it, and we boarded the Tube, but not before I forgot to swipe my card and almost got stuck in the gate like a complete moron. That was embarrassing. We followed Google Maps and found our way to the Billy Elliot theatre. Our tickets had been pretty expensive, but well worth it. West End theatre is England’s Broadway equivalent, and it’s been so long since I’ve seen a show that I could barely contain myself. It was even better to have someone to critique it with!
Our seats were pretty high up in the nosebleeds, and there was only enough legroom for people under 5 feet, but it was fine. The show was pretty good. I had never seen Billy Elliot before, and some parts of it were a bit odd. The little boy was fabulous, and all of the dancing was great. But it was obvious that they didn’t cast for vocals. The set was neat, though, as were most of the character interpretations. I only bawled twice. After the show, we went to this little bakery café place that Ann has been wanting to try. It was cute as a button! I was going to order something chocolatey, but Ann got this certain tea that comes with fresh biscuits. When in England, right? We got a cute little tea kettle and a plate of the biscuits with butter and jam. It was a divine snack. Then we got back on the Tube and returned to school to relax for a while and to get my phone that had been charging. I didn’t want to miss out on any more photo opportunities. We walked into, (I keep wanting to say we went into town, but London is all huge city… there’s no part that isn’t ‘downtown.’) Well anyway, we went into town to this little burger joint called Tommy’s for a cheeseburger and fries. It wasn’t gourmet, but it was dang good, and satisfied my longing for beef. We went back to school and talked on her bed for a few hours before going to sleep. It was beyond nice to talk and be close to someone I really know. I missed her so much. In the morning, (well… afternoon), we went to a café for brunch. Ann had a chocolate muffin. I had a chicken, bacon, and avocado sandwich. Iced mocha lattes finished the meal nicely. We began our adventure of finding the Maritime Museum, which was a few Tube stations, a train ride, and finding an underground mall to pass beneath the marathon that blockaded our path, away. We finally got to our destination and found the museum. It had a few interesting things, but the big exhibits all cost money. It was a little lame; definitely aimed at younger kids. On our way out, we met up with Ann’s friend Tara from her program. I liked her instantly, which I assumed I would. We walked up a huge hill to the place where you can actually see the Prime Meridian marked, but it cost 22 pounds, (about $40) to get in. So we took pictures with a crack in the sidewalk that we pretended was our meridian. We went to a market to get Tara some lunch, but we ended up getting food, too. At a stand of little chocolates, Ann got cherry and Tara got Bailey’s cream to try. Neither of them was impressed to find that their chocolates were alcoholic, and wanted to get rid of the bad taste. I got a rose chocolate, which actually had the flowery flavor in the chocolate. Super good. Tara went off to get spicy pork rice, and Ann and I got in line for mini pancakes with Nutella and strawberries. They were perfect, but it drove me crazy trying to eat and walk through so many people. There was no place to sit, so you just stand and eat. In Spain, though, we sit for several hours to eat anything. This grab and go idea no longer seems so appealing to me. Next, we went into an ice cream shop and each bought a baby cone, which was barely bigger than a Bugle. I got mint chocolate chip. We also went to an area of massive old buildings where the scene of General L’Marque’s death was filmed for Les Mis. You wouldn’t have thought of it to look around, but since we knew what we were looking at, it was special. We rode closer to the school and looked around a few shops and bought Mentos, which are one of Ann and Tara’s main food groups. Ann had told me about this modern church she had gone to once and wanted to take me. I wasn’t all that thrilled, until we got there and I found out that it’s Hillsong’s church! Ann didn’t think I’d know Hillsong. Please. I’m a church camp counselor! The service was pretty good, though the sermon got rather repetitive. I even put my hands up during a few songs, which is something I never ever do. The music was really great, and I’m so glad we went, especially since I haven’t been to a Protestant church since January. We stopped at McDonald’s for dinner on the way back, and I had my first McNuggets since before my SU roommate Alicia and I made this stupid dietary challenge for ourselves in the fall with rules like, 1) No fried foods, ever. 2) No sodapop. 3) No deserts on weekdays. 4) You must sweat intentionally every day. 5) If you cheat, you must do lunges up and down the hall. Stupid challenge. They weren’t as good as in America, but they were good enough. I slept in Tara’s room that night and the rest, since her roommate was in Barcelona, and really doesn’t live in her room anymore anyway. The 2 of us stayed up late talking and being goofy. I really like that girl. Ann had class in the morning, but I slept til noon, so it was fine. We had a caf lunch of pork with purple cabbage, and I had potatoes while the others ate fries. I also ate both of their helpings of cabbage. Don’t tell my dad!!! Then Ann took me to one of the main streets. She said we could go into any stores I wanted, so naturally we ended up in the Disney store and the 5-story book store. We kept walking and got my picture taken standing by Big Ben and the London Eye ferris wheel. It was cool to see them, and we enjoyed secretly making fun of the other clueless tourists. After all, Ann is no longer a tourist, just like I’m not in Sevilla. We felt like we had walked a thousand miles, so we went to one of her favorite bakeries for dinner, where they also sell pizza. We each had a slice, mine with bacon, hers with nothing. We sat and talked for a long time before ordering desert. I got a peach/pistachio desert and a cappuccino, both of which were good choices. At about 7, we walked down the street to the Les Mis theatre. I was about 10 times as excited for this as I was for Billy Elliot. This time our seats were orchestra level, but way back below the balcony. At least there was leg room. The show was fantastic. The only 2 characters who left something to be desired were Fantine and Enjoras, both of whom were understudies filling in. Also, I didn’t like the Thenardiers, but I always hate them. Javert totally stole the show. What an incredible talent. Eponine was fantastic, too. I was quite distracted by the cellist in the pit who was insanely good, as well. We went straight home so that Ann could work on her French presentation for the next day. I chilled in Tara’s room singing Les Mis songs and being crazy. I also ate a plain, cold SPAM. My parents had sent it in a box, and I knew I wouldn’t eat it any other time, so I did. It wasn’t so bad, but toward the end I felt a little sick. Tara complained that her room smelled like cat food. Oops. In the morning, Tara had gone to class, and I was still asleep when the unsuspecting roommate returned from Barcelona to find me in her bed. I apologized profusely, but she said she didn’t mind at all. Her friendliness almost made it more uncomfortable. She soon left, and Ann came upstairs with coffee and muffins for breakfast. She’s perfect. We ate and headed out through the picturesque Regent’s Park. We walked for a long time, finally arriving at Speedy’s, a tiny restaurant made famous by the series, Sherlock. I ordered a chicken and avocado Sherlock wrap, and we found a bench several streets away on which we ate our fabulous lunch. Afterward, Ann took me to King’s Cross Station. Even though we didn’t make it to the big studio tour, I still got my taste of Harry Potter, which made my soul happy. (Sidenote, I’m actually listening to my Harry Potter soundtracks as I write this. Clearly, I have a problem.) (Second Sidenote, I’m actually listening to the 5th HP movie as I type this. I have a HUGE problem.) We checked out the Platform 9 & ¾ spot, and saw the area between platforms 4 & 5, where it was actually filmed. So much happiness. I was feeling pretty horrible that morning, not because of the SPAM, and Ann had class at 3, so we walked back, passing by the Royal Academy of Music. What I wouldn’t give to go in there! I slept straight through Ann’s class and woke up feeling a bit better. Tara joined us for my final caf meal of noodles with beef. I thought it was decent. They said I’m just desperate for beef. They’re probably right. We had cute little Lindt chocolate carrots for desert. After lunch we left through the garden again to visit Abbey Road. It took longer than we expected to get there, but the pictures of us on the famous Beatles’ crosswalk were worth the trek. There were a ton of tourists and really angry drivers, so we didn’t stick around very long. Next, we hiked up Primrose Hill to watch the sunset behind London’s silhouette. We snapped a few pictures and left. It was dang cold up there! We took a bus back to Baker Street where we stopped at the waffle truck. I balanced my tray as I tried to walk and cut my waffle with whipped cream, Nutella, and strawberries with my plastic knife. I think I was relatively successful; I didn’t drop anything at least. I still don’t like this walking and eating concept. We all spent the evening in Tara’s room, double-checking my bookings, going for showers, and singing Disney songs. At about 2:15, I finished my packing and the 3 of us made the hour walk to my bus stop. I was glad we were 3, because it was a little creepy in the dark city. A guy around our age asked us for some change to buy food. How do you say no when they’re right there with you? We shared a few pounds. Soon, my bus came. We hugged and said our goodbyes. I probably won’t see my ginger until we move into our suite in August. The bus ride to Victoria Station on bus N16 lasted about a half hour. When I got off, the station gates were locked. Luckily, there were a few other confused Brits, and together we found the back entrance. I scanned my ticket and found an empty row on the train. It was warm and cozy – I slept the whole way. I got to Gatwick Airport around 5am, and the sign said that my gate information would be released at 5:40. Hungry for breakfast, I made my way through the huge commercial airport and found myself in an organic café. After all of the soda, candy, and junk food we’d had, I was in dire need of something fresh. If I ate that way all semester in Spain, I wouldn’t fit on the plane back home. I bought a chicken and avocado sandwich (noticing a trend, yet?), and a small coffee drink. I tried futilely to log into the free wifi, and was irritated that I couldn’t update Ann or my mom of my whereabouts. I people watched for a while and then went toward gate 19, as the sign said at 5:40. I had already done security and baggage, so this part was fairly painless, aside from the twinge in my eye, which I later discovered was the result of my leaving my contacts in for 2 days straight, thinking I had taken them out. Moron. The plane ride wasn’t too bad. I was in the very last row of 3 by myself, though the rest of the plane was jam packed. I sat by the window, dozing in and out. All I wanted was my bed. At San Pablo Airport in Seville, I took the Semana Santa bus special to the Plaza de Armas for 4 Euros. I was squished against the doors, but I did help a few tourists figure out where they were going. From the plaza, I walked the back way into Triana, across the bridge by the kayaking place. It took me about an hour to walk home. Once there, we had lunch, and then at 3, I passed right out in my bed. It had been an incredibly fun week full of many memories, and I was completely exhausted. Well, yesterday (Thursday, April 10th), I turned 20! I started the day off by sleeping through my alarms again, and half sprinting from Triana to Calle Harinas, arriving to class sweaty, but in the nick of time. Class was quick, and afterwards Carrie and I went to grab a quick breakfast before our next classes, as we had both skipped it that morning. Jessica and Caitlin came along, too. I ordered toast with olive oil and sugar, and café con leche. I know it may sound repulsive, but believe me when I say that this temptingly sweet Spanish treat is quite a winner. My family can definitely look forward to that when I get home! Carrie insisted on paying, and I promised to get her back on her birthday in 2 weeks.
I forgot to mention that Wednesday evening before choir I helped out at a Pascuas celebration at the school for the Spanish children who take English classes there. Wednesday was for 4-8 year olds, and it was the cutest thing. The kids came in around 7, and we helped them color pictures of Easter eggs until everyone had arrived. Each kid got a little paper basket that had jellybeans in it. They learned new words and got candy! Then each kid got to find one real painted egg, which we had hidden in the flowerbeds in the courtyard. They thought that was pretty neat. Afterwards, we helped them dip white eggs into die, which they could color with crayons first. They seemed confused, but picked up on it eventually. The whole time, I was playing with these 2 five year old little girls, Carol and Kristina. They were the CUTEST things I have ever seen. Oh my goodness. And I know we were supposed to be speaking to them in English, but they just don’t know that much. So I made friends in Spanish that day. Anyhow, back to Thursday. My lit class went fairly well. I seriously adore my professor, and now that we are reading post-war social novels rather than ancient nun writings, the class discussions are improving drastically. I was a bit unnerved to learn that some of my classmates had neglected yet again to read the assigned texts that I was up all night finishing. But it’s good literature, and no one’s loss but their own, really. After class, I spent over an hour in the lab, printing boarding passes, booking the train, and searching for directions. London still seems unreal. We then had our Flamenco dance final, which I think (besides a few lapses), went pretty well! For anthro, we all met in the lobby for our field trip. Already annoyed with the professor, we thought it would be pretty lame but boy were we mistaken. We took the metro as a class to this small town area where we went into a small bar for our Iberian Ham taste testing. It was an impressively classy little place. The ham was great, as well as the wine. We had such a blast stuffing ourselves and filling out the paper. Since it was my birthday, they all sang to me, and I had the privilege of cutting ham directly off the leg first. I think I did a half decent job, too! It was super fun. Back in the Center, Corie and I went to one of our favorite churro places to relax and stuff ourselves some more. She wouldn’t let me pay, either. I walked home, and when I got to my room, I saw a vase of pretty purple flowers on my desk! Carmen told me they were from Brittany, and I was quite touched by the gesture. What a sweet thing to do! I had a nice long chat with Carmen about my weekend plans and life in general before I got ready to go. Despite everyone getting themselves varying degrees of lost on the way to the restaurant, we finally convened at Zhen Bao Chinese restaurant for my birthday dinner. The place was deserted, which allowed the workers to be very patient with us as we tried to navigate the menu. Corie, Taylor, and I got the equivalent of General Tso’s chicken with rice. Caitlin got sweet and sour, which I believe is also what Claire ordered. I ordered a shrimp appetizer that I expected to be an eggroll, but was actually much better. Someone got dumplings, and we shared a bottle of wine. Carrie didn’t make it to dinner, but she came along later. The food was SO good, and we all ate WAY too much. We had a wonderful time laughing and eating something a bit more familiar. They didn’t let me pay for that, either. After dinner, since the restaurant was closing, we went and sat at a café for a while. Eventually Carrie, then 3 of her Spanish friends, got there. It was late, so Claire, Tay, and Corie headed home. Caitlin, Carrie, and I hung out with the Spanish friends for a while. I got sleepy and started walking home, but passing by the river, I had to stop. I sat on a stone bench/wall for just under an hour, watching the lights dancing on the water. A veces en la vida, tenemos que sentar al lado de un rio poderoso, para recordar qué pequeño somos, en un mundo completamente lleno de personas quienes son tan importantes como a nuestros mismos. Even though I didn’t get home until around 4am, I was up at 8:30 to go on the visit to the Flamenco Museum. Not many people went, and it really wasn’t as cool as I had hoped, but it was fine. On the way back to the center, someone knocked on the window in Starbucks as I walked by. It was Claire! I went in to say goodbye before I took off for the week. She was there with Corie, Taylor, and her girlfriend who had just arrived. We were so excited for this serendipitous moment, because we didn’t think I’d have the chance to meet her! Then I walked to our school to print out my train ticket, since the credit card situation had finally been worked out. Virginia was working at reception and was surprised to see me there and not in London yet. She wished me a good trip and said to let her know when I get back so that we can get together. I adore her. After that, I went home, took a shower, had lunch, and packed my bags. 4:30 rolled around and, pretty certain I had everything, I headed toward the San Bernardo train station with my backpack and rolling carry-on. I had printed directions, but also saw on Google Maps that it was just past the bus station where I had boarded for Ronda, so I went there first. Once to the river, I checked my phone and realized that I don’t know how to read a watch, because it was only just now 4. Deciding it was too late to go back, I took a break on a bench in the shade. It was a beautiful day, but I was very sweaty. It was hot and my bags weren’t light. I got to the bus station and kept going, like the map had shown. A few streets later, I started doubting that I was right. I took out my directions, but none of the street names matched any I had seen. I also saw a sign that pointed to Santa Justa train station, which is far from where I was supposed to be. I used my Blackberry to find a map, and saw that it was next to something with “Alcazar” in the name. Well, the Alcazar is the palace I went to my 2nd week here, and is way back in the center next to the Cathedral. I tore off back the way I had come. Passing the bus station, this random Spanish girl asked if I had a phone she could borrow to get ahold of her boyfriend. I let her use mine, but was ready to grab her arm, if she should try running off with it. She yacked at her boyfriend for a few minutes and ended by telling him to meet her here, or better yet, at San Bernardo. I got really excited. “¿Vas a San Bernardo?” “Si, ¿Por que?” “Porque me voy tambien, y estoy perdida.” “Bueno, ¡Vamanos!” We went back to where I had been originally, and a street or 2 further. The girl’s name was Rocio. She is 18 years old, and is beginning to study to be a pharmacist. I told her about what I was doing here, and we talked about London, too. We went into a Chino store for a Coke, and we helped a homeless man buy something to eat. At the station, she kissed my cheeks and said goodbye. It was one of those moments where I sort of wondered if she was a real person. How lucky for both of us that her phone had died. I found my way down to the train platform without too much trouble. I did ask several people for help, since I wanted to get on the right train. It was a few minutes late, and I could tell I wasn’t the only one getting antsy. When I got on, I sat at a table and a young Spanish woman sat beside me. She was on her phone most of the time. I really liked her watch. I wish I would have had the nerve to tell her that. I got off at the Jerez Aeropuerto stop, and followed some people who seemed to know where they were going. In the airport, I met a very lovely British family whose accents I adored, and I hung out with them until boarding time. It was nice to have them to talk to and watch my bags for me while I used the restroom. The plane was completely full, and I was next to an older Spanish couple. I tried talking to them a bit at first, and they were friendly enough, I suppose, but didn’t seem too thrilled with talking. I slept on and off the whole way. It was just after midnight when I landed and got into the Stansted airport. I was happy to see that the “Non EU” customs line was much shorter, but it took forever. As I was filling out my little paper for customs, a woman approached me and asked if I speak Spanish. She didn’t know any English and needed help filling out her card. She also didn’t have her glasses, so I had to write for her. She was very grateful, and we chatted for the hour and a half we were in line together. Long story short, her name is Lorena. She is originally from Chile, but has lived in Spain with her Spanish husband for 7 years. However, 2 years ago, her husband moved to England with their 2 daughters for work. Lorena has to stay in Spain to maintain citizenship, so she can only visit her family sometimes. She was terrified to go through customs because she doesn’t speak English. She showed me a note someone had written for her in (pretty poor) English, detailing her situation and providing phone numbers, should there be any problem. She said that last time she came, she was in customs for 5 hours, because she couldn’t do her paper, and nobody would help her. I told her I would help her talk to them, that we would go through together. I think she was about to cry. It was finally our turn. The man took care of my passport first, with a few simple questions and a stamp. Lorena was the hard part. He asked if we were family, and I explained how we had just met and I was helping her. I explained her situation, and he had a thousand questions about her family, work history, etc. He was clearly not impressed with her, and made his skepticism quite obvious to me. Here, she had just been in the UK from December through February, and now wanted to stay for another 3-6 months. He asked about the status of her Spanish passport and when she was to receive it. I couldn’t tell if he thought she was inferior because of where she’s from, or her lack of language, or her non-working status. But either way, I was furious, and determined to fight her way through for her. She was very nervous and kept talking and rambling a lot. It was difficult for me to pick out the important things, present them in a positive light, and translate in time to catch the next things both of them were saying. It didn’t help that her cell phone kept ringing too, and she didn’t answer it or shut it off, since there was a sing with an X over a phone… but the customs man wasn’t too happy. At one point he was like, “It seems like she’s trying to talk an awful lot, can you tell her to be quiet?” I told her to calm down, that everything would be ok. I held her arm, and explained that they were going to let her in, but that next time, like to stay in Spain, she would need to go to the UK embassy in Madrid and apply for a Visa. They will for sure give it to her, but she must have it, or she won’t be allowed to return for an extended period of time. After that 20-minute nightmare of my nerves burning to a crisp, we passed through together. She held my bag while I used the ATM, and we walked together; she wanted me to meet her family. Her daughters, who are just younger than me, and husband, were overjoyed and couldn’t stop thanking me. I explained the Visa issue to them, so that everyone was on the same page. Lorena told me that when I come back to Spain, I must visit Jerez and be a guest in her home. I don’t have her contact information, but that was such a nice gesture. WE said goodbye, and I was grateful for the language skills I have, and for the chance to make a real difference for somebody. Of course, with the extra time this had taken, it was now 2 am. My phone was dead, and I knew Ann was outside in the cold waiting for me on Baker Street. The only problem is, the Baker Street bus stops running between 2 and 5! I got out my computer, signed up for free Wifi, and messaged her from inside the bus station waiting room. She told me to take a taxi. I made my way back up to the terminal and found the taxi desk. The hour ride would cost 110 pounds, which is just about $160. I said there was no way. He knocked it down to 95. Still no way. I found an empty chair and turned my PC back on. Ann said, “Just get here. I’ll pay for half.” It was still a lot of money, but I booked a taxi, and in minutes was on my way to Regent’s College, Inner Circle, Regent’s Park. My driver was friendly and told me all sorts of things about London, rich people he’s driven, and his sister’s job working as the nanny for some insanely rich Arab family in the oil industry. I found it all quite interesting. This was also my very first experience in a right-sided car on the wrong side of the road. The views were pretty nice, too, and all moments of musical theatre set in London were buzzing in my mind. When we finally got there, we didn’t know which building it was. I picked one, and it was right. I waited a few minutes for Ann to come down for me. I was SO glad to see her! We walked up to her room. Her one roommate was out of town, so I used her bed, and the other was asleep. I sat my bags down in the darkness, kicked my shoes off, and went to bed with my clothes on, too exhausted to take another step. The fun would have to wait until tomorrow. (PS, my phone upgraded and will no longer connect to my pc, so I have no way to put my pictures up except for the pathetic ones from my Blackberry. Does anybody have a Samsung Galaxy S4 or the like and is also having this problem or knows how to fix it?! None of the online suggestions are any good.) So yesterday (meaning actually Monday a week ago, now), I was at school practicing piano when I got a message from Brittany saying that Carmen had been crying for quite a while on the phone, and that Antonio’s issues were more serious than we though. She said that it might be time to ask if we should leave – if that would be easier for her. But how do we go about doing that? I told her not to worry, that I would handle it.
I went to visit Virginia at reception and I gave her the update on our situation. It was bad enough when he was in pain, but now it’s complicated. She told me to go talk to another director, Aco, in the office. I walked in and signed. They all asked what was going on and told me to have a seat. I explained everything, starting with the fall a week into our time here, through the hospital time of living on our own and now with his condition. I told her how great of a host mom Carmen is and that we don’t want to leave, and certainly not to hurt her feelings. WE just want her to know that there are options if it is too much for her. The resident director, Amalia, who had been eves dropping from her office, came to join the conversation. We talked everything out, and Aco said that she would call Carmen to have a chat that afternoon. I wiped the tear off of my cheek and thanked them for being so great. I really do love all of our program directors. They are wonderful people, and they run this place SO well. I get very agitated when I hear people complaining about the management, because they are obviously clueless as to the organization and work it takes to make this work. Those 4 women run it flawlessly, in my opinion, and they are so kind, patient, and caring toward all of us. If anyone has had an issue that went unresolved, it’s because they didn’t ask. I’m so glad I chose CCCS-Sevilla. When I got home last night, it was almost dinner time. WE had soup and grilled ham and cheese. Part way through our meal, Antonio got up to go to bed. Carmen wasn’t in the room, so we jumped up and followed him to make sure everything was okay. Apparently during lunch he had been sitting with his head under the table blanket like a little kid. He was cold and knew that the stove should have been there, but Carmen put it away so that he can’t burn himself. He also kept getting up and walking around aimlessly. Later when Carmen tried to get him to use his oxygen like always, he couldn’t remember how to put the mask on. He just held it there the wrong way close to his face and started breathing. It’s heartbreaking. He’ll mumble, and Carmen asks what he wants to say. He says he can’t remember. She rubs his shoulder, says it’s okay, and to tell her when he does remember. Today he couldn’t remember his grandson’s name. So it is now Wednesday of the following week – April 9th. I don’t have a very good excuse for not writing in a week… I’ve just let it slip a bit. Things here have been interesting at home. Antonio has slowly been improving, but he is still confused most of the time. He is restless and tends to wander around at night looking for Carmen, when she had been in the bed right next to him. Her patience has been running low, too. Some days are better than others, but at least things are getting a little better. On a brighter note, my life has been going pretty well. Last week Anthropology class was cancelled on Thursday, so Corie and I decided to go to a café for chocolate cake and café con leche. It was superb, and we sat for an hour or so until they kicked us out. We then went to Triana and waited til 9 in another café. Claire met us at the bridge, and the 3 of us went back into El Centro to eat at an Indian restaurant, the Taj Majal. I know, it’s so cliché. I had never eaten Indian before, and now I may be hooked. I got some kind of chicken curry that had onion, tomato, and cilantro in the sauce. It was divine. I ordered rice with eggs to eat with it, which was Corie’s recommendation, and a good one. We also had nan, their special garlic bread, and some lovely white wine. It was such a blast goofing around together and eating delicious food. That definitely goes down on the list of my favorite days here. Friday I had to dress up to record for my piano recital, but it’s very difficult to make recordings when the piano is in the only ‘hangout’ space we have. I get so frustrated with the people in there sometimes. I also hate when I set aside an hour to practice, and I spend the majority of it raging at a table while some bored person tries to figure out Chopsticks, or God forbid, the ‘not’ couple flirtatiously trying to figure out My Heart Will Go On. (Gag). I had 1 chance to record before school closed for the weekend, and I blew through the big middle run. It wasn’t awful, but it wasn’t good, either. Matt’s piece deserves better. I ended up staying in Friday night so that I would be fresh for kayaking in the morning! I walked the back way out of Triana and across the other bridge. We met at 11:30 at the aquatics/sports club. It was me, Megan, Rebecca, Sarah, and her friend Kyle. We met our guide who helped us get the 2-person boats down and into the water. He was a very friendly older Spanish man, who made our trip enjoyable. I shared my boat with Megan. It was a perfect day – not too hot and not too cold. The sun shone so brightly, which was nice, seeing as we were utterly drenched. I sat in the back and powered us through the 2-hour ride. I probably should have been a little more careful for my hands’ sake, but I’m fine. We saw so many turtles sunbathing on the rocks, and other wildlife as well. It was a fabulous time, and it’s incredible to be able to say that I have paddled on one of the most historically significant rivers in Spain! Once home, I showered, had lunch, and then took a much-needed 3-hour siesta. It was lovely, but then I couldn’t fall asleep at night. Figures. Sunday morning I met Carrie at a café on San Jacinto. WE had life chats and a lot of café con leche. We also split a wonderful, flakey pastry that was shaped like a horseshoe, and lightly filled with a pasty chocolate sauce. It was super good, and a good date for my soul. Afterwards, I went home for lunch and got ready to go out with Isa. She pushed the time back from 4 to 5, which is an ever-so-typical Spanish thing to do. We walked around Triana for a bit before going for icecream at the same café I’d gone to that morning. I had Nutella and strawberry. I think next time I will try Kinder, which is what Isa had, and it was fantastic. Then we crossed the bridge to sit by the river and chat for an hour in the bright sun. it was HOT. We planned the rest of our reunions for the semester, which was exciting, but also slightly depressing. I am going to miss that girl SO much. Then we crossed back over the bridge to have a drink on the other side of the river and chat for another hour. It was very fun, and I was sad to say goodbye for the next week and a half. Monday I had to pack my dress and computer to re-record for the piano recital, which was no easier the second time around, but I think I played a little better. Afterwards, I went on a class trip to a Flamenco show with our dance professor at the intimate Casa de la Memoria. It was amazing. We were so close to the performers, and it wasn’t Sevillana dancing like we learned, but rather traditional guitarist, singer, body percussion, and a sick on-steroids type of insanely fast almost tap-dancing with Flamenco arms. I was so impressed, and I loved counting the rhythms and seeing ho it all fits together. What an incredible experience to see some of the greatest artists of our time! Yesterday I had class all day, but when I got out of anthro, I had a text from Claire, wanting to know if I had evening plans, which of course, I didn’t. I met her in the Plaza Nueva where there was a huge protest going on, hosted by students from the Universidad de Sevilla. We went to Cien Montaditos for a snack and drink. I got a bite-sized burger, which was not beef, but still good. We then went to school and out onto the vacant patio to practice Flamenco. I googled ‘Sevillanas’ on my phone, and we were set! We worked on each dance and ran through them all. I just Love dancing Sevillana. We got kicked out at 10, and parted ways at the river toward our neighborhoods. On the walk home I thought of SU and my family, but also of my friends and adventures here. I’m in such a conflicted place in regards to leaving, but no matter how I feel, I leave May 14th. I have 1 month left, and I fully intend to enjoy every moment. “Adventure is worthwhile.” -- Amelia Earhart Okay, I’m just going to kind of skip over last week. It was dull, I went to class, practiced a lot, and chilled in my house. We really do tend to have normal lifestyles during the week, and I was bit homesick, but then this weekend happened.
Friday I got up, showered, and packed my backpack full of clothes and my super awesome strap travel bag from Jenna full of things for my trip. I walked down the river to the a Torre Del Oro where the bus was to pick up our group, which consisted of 25 people from my school, a few Germans, older Spanish people from Malaga, young people from Ibiza, another smaller group of Americans from University of Massachusetts who are studying in Oviedo (Up North in Asturias), and were the most annoying thing in my life, and one adorable lone Japanese girl. Of course it was raining like crazy, and though we had all rushed to get there by 2:30, we stood in the rain and cold waiting for a solid hour. We finally boarded and I sat with my friend Sam on the bus. The ride was about 3 hours long because we had to go the whole way out to Cadiz to pick up one woman. The whole ride, all we could hear was the dang UMass kids talking loudly and ignorantly about every annoying topic imaginable, from videogames to politics and arguing religion with little to no insight. It was all I could do to keep myself from making a scene, but I didn’t. Eventually Sam had had enough. She turned around and said, “Could you guys like, stop?” It was blissfully quiet for an entire 45 seconds before they were at it again, and they spent 10 minutes discussing what she had said. The nerve. She put in her headphones. I knew I had no music on my phone, but I put mine in anyway and listened to all of my old recordings I make when working on a cello or piano piece. They were repetitive and a bit lackluster, but anything was better than hearing those kids talk, and my Bach Suite wasn’t as bad as I remember. I really hope I haven’t lost my ears… We finally got out at the port, but we weren’t there for more than 2 minutes before our one program director, Virginia (Veer-he-knee-uh), had realized we were at the wrong port and made a few calls. We all ran back onto the bus, which sped down the winding roads to the right port. Half hour later, we were out and running through the ferry complex with our bags. Luckily, the boat had waited for us. It was incredibly fancy, with a café bar, TVs, and a variety of seating styles. I ended up upstairs by the windows at a table with some of the other girls. Nobody really felt like talking, but we tried to entertain each other to take our minds off of the long ride and the rough ocean waves. I hadn’t thought to pack a bocadillo, but my friend Andie graciously gave me one of her sandwiches, and I had packed some granola bars, too. Within an hour, we were back on land in Ceuta, which is technically part of Africa, but is still Spanish territory. It’s quite beautiful, but it was dark and rainy, so we didn’t get to see much as we ran through the rain to the bus with our soggy bags. Andie and I sat in front of Virginia, and I spent the majority of the 2 hours it took us to get from the ferry and through customs to our 1st hotel, talking with her. We talked about our dogs, families, and jobs. It was sometimes hard to understand because I couldn’t see her mouth, and girl talks super fast, but it was fun. Por fin, we got to the hotel. The tour company had kind of screwed up everyone’s rooming assignments, and I ended up with Briann from my lit class, and her friend Sinead. We didn’t really have much to talk about, but they were nice enough. The hotel gave us soup and chicken, which was decent, and flan (YUCK), for dinner, and then everyone went to bed. The 7am wakeup call was way too early, and we were all disoriented since Moroccan time is an hour ahead of us. I got dressed and repacked my things. We went downstairs to have our breakfast of breads, coffee, and fresh orange juice. It was pretty good, but the view was better. Nobody had realized in the darkness of the previous night, but we were literally right next to the ocean. We ate quickly so as to have time to go out and snap a few photos. Virginia asked me to join her on the bus, which was the best thing that could have possibly happened. We road another 3 hours through the beautiful Moroccan mountains. We felt a bit bus sick, but luckily, we had infinite things to talk about. It was cold and a little drizzly when we got to the blue city of Chefchaouen. Our real tour guide, Achmen, (No idea how to actually spell that), handed the reigns over to this other Arab man who was old, tiny, and whose voice was the strangest thing I’ve ever heard. It almost sounds like he swallowed his own voice box. He was very kind and funny, but didn’t really give us any useful information as we walked through the hundreds of tiny streets. The walls are literally all painted blue, and it was great for taking pictures, but there is also clearly a lot of poverty here. We passed by many street venders, people followed us around trying to sell us things, which was something that continued to happen all weekend. There weren’t many women out and about, because Morocco is an officially Muslim country, and the women you do see are mostly covered. I saw some little girls peering down at us through upper story windows, and some shouted hola. The little boys ran around all over the streets. How fair is this? We went into a workshop where they make blankets by hand. We got to see all of the different kinds, and a little of how they are made. We were told that if we wanted anything like that, to buy it here, since everything in the streets are cheap Chinese knockoffs. We walked a while longer, the mountains looming overhead. We then had an hour of free time tin the big main plaza to do some shopping. There were so many little venders all selling the same things. You have to bargain with the venders, which is a terrifying process when you have no idea what anything is actually worth. A group of us walked into some and around. It was pouring down rain, though, and all of the people were just watching us, hoping that we would come buy something from them. Yet, their prices were ridiculous. They all have so much junk, and I just wonder how any of them can possibly make a living. It’s heartbreaking. We went into the hotel for lunch where we had a random salad plate of different veggies like carrot, pepper, potato, half an egg, olives, etc. I ate all but the olives. Then the main dish came out. There were 2 big Arab ceramic serving dishes for our table of 10. In it were long pieces of carrot and maybe some kind of squash? There was also beef, warm, stringy, mouthwatering beef. It was kind of like a brisket, I think. I loved it, and the vegetables, too. Yeah… I’m turning into one of those losers who actually likes vegetables. And for desert… Flan. Ugh. Back in the cold rain, we got on the bus to drive to the hotel in the next city. It was a long way, but to be honest, the bus rides with Virginia were my favorite parts of this trip. She’s 4 years older than me (Well, in a week or so it’ll be just 4), and she has to be one of the coolest people I’ve ever met. She’s actually best friends with Isa, which I didn’t realize! She didn’t think we’d have time to do our walking tour of Tanger, because the traffic was so slow, but we did! They let us out near a big plaza that had the Mezquita, which was close to the Catholic cemetery, and next to the Arab markets. Hooray for coexisting! I love it. Most of Morocco is apparently pretty good about that, and with the new young Sultan, his majesty Muhammad V, who is improving life for women and workers, opening the doors to foreign projects, and allowing foreign African refugees with papers to live there legally, it is getting even better. WE saw some significant buildings, and then went into this huge, windy hallway where there were dozens of venders with meat stands, fruit stands, olives, nuts, cleaning supplies, etc. Had we come here when I first got to Spain, I’m sure I would have been entirely freaked out by all of the hanging meat. But now, it’s casual. We went back outside and through another similar place. We saw an American residential area from the outside, and continued through to a huge authentic store to buy handmade touristy gift things. I bargained with a guy and got him to go down from 15E to 10 on a particular item. Avoiding the people following us to sell their wares, we headed toward the harbor. We had to wait for the bus there instead of going directly to it, because apparently men like to hide under them to try to sneak on board or snatch things. That’s comforting, isn’t it? We went to the hotel, deposited our things, and went to the hotel restaurant. Dinner was another random veggie plate, bread, fried fish, French fries, and gracia a Dios, fruit for dessert. That may have been the sweetest orange I’ve ever had. From where we sat, I could see at least 5 Moroccan flags outside. There are flags EVERYWHERE. I’ve never seen so many. I think they may have a bit of a nationalism problem. The flags are very pretty, a red background, representing the blood required to protect one’s country and family, and a green star in the middle, symbolic of hope and the 5 pillars of Islam. Pretty dang cool. Virginia was under the impression that we have flags everywhere like that in the US, since whenever you see a tv program or movie, there are always flags. It’s interesting the misconceptions that occur. Once upstairs, I showered and got ready for bed, careful not to get any tap water in my mouth. It’s not that Morocco’s water is dirty, it’s just not mineralized and purified quite as vigorously as in Spain and the US, and our systems aren’t accustom to it. I got tired of brushing my teeth with a water bottle real fast. I didn’t sleep much that night. One girl had had the heat on before bed and I was sweating. The beds were hard as a rock, and the city was terribly noisy for someone with attentive ears. I overslept by 15 minutes and hurried to pack. I had 2 coffees at breakfast to compensate, but it’s not nearly as strong as Spanish coffee. It also doesn’t help that we switched our clocks for daylight savings that night and lost an hour. Plus the difference between Spain and Morocco, which we then had to switch back coming back to Spain. Totally confusing. Boarding the bus, I saw that another girl had stolen my seat, and I reluctantly went to the very back row where I sleepily squeezed into the corner between reclining seats, the wall, and a snoring Spanish man. I tried to stay away for the panoramic bus tour, but I could hardly see out the window, anyway. I remember the “American Forest,” and the palace where Saudi Arabian officials stay when they visit, but that’s about it. As wonderful as our guide was, he talked a ton, and always spoke in Spanish first, then English. Sometimes it served as a nice comprehension check, but I got frustrated hearing everything twice. On the bright side, I’ll probably never forget anything he said when I was paying attention. We got down to take pictures along the coast, but we didn’t stay out for long in the rain. Luckily, it had stopped by the time we got to the camels! There were 4 of them to be ridden at a time, 2 just chilling there, one very sick one, and 2 little babies. I got a big angry when people kept trying to take selfies with the camels and freaking out when the camels weren’t happy about it. Come on, people. You can’t expect to just casually approach a creature without acknowledging it, stick something in front of its face, talking loudly, and making skittish movements. They were so amazed how much the camels ‘liked me.’ I didn’t do anything super special, just let it know I was there and check me out, and scratch its ears and neck, because I’m not a total moron. I guess I can’t blame people too much if they’ve never been around them, but it’s kind of common sense. And camel selfies? Vaya por dios. Some people were quite upset with the prod that the owner was using. But honestly, he wasn’t hurting them. He only used it hard enough that they could feel it, and this work isn’t much for an animal designed for carrying weight in the dessert. They were fine. The sick one did freak me out a little, but hopefully my 2 euros will go toward caring for that man’s animals. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. I rode on the 2nd to last round. I had been patient, but when the guide started rounding us up, I was there and ready. I didn’t want to miss out. It was fun, and similar to a horse. When I got down, the one baby camel ran over to be with mom, and I about died. So much cute! One more hour next to sleepy, and we were in Tetoan. Some people went to buy pastries in a big famous pastellería. I looked, but wanted to save my money. Plus, they’re known for their almond pastries, and I’m not really into almonds. I was standing with 2 girls from my program and a guy from UMass. Virginia came to stand with me, and the idiot from UMass asked who she was. We said our professor, (Ha, she technically isn’t, but it’s easier than explaining, and she got quite a kick out of being “La Profesora” all weekend), he greeted her and then asked if she was “Español.” She said, “Si, Española.” And he says, “Oh yeah, I’ve been trying to figure out all weekend if you’re American or Spanish. I mean, I heard you talking, but I didn’t really know.” Okay, granted that she does have lighter hair and blue eyes, you cannot hear her talk for more than 10 seconds and not KNOW that she is a Sevillana. I mean, come on. I told her she doesn’t speak English. And he kept trying to speak to her in English. Moron. We walked through the Jewish and Arab quarters, stopping for explanations of what we were seeing. It was pretty cool. There was a lot of poverty here, too, though. It is hard to see. We then went to this legitimate pharmacy where they use herbal medicines and make completely natural products. The guy who did the presentation was super funny and nice, speaks like 7 languages (as did many of our guides/presenters), and he showed us and let us sample a bunch of different things like creams for different purposes, natural perfume, an herb that clears up your breathing issues, and their specialty, Argon oil products. It was really neat, but everything was pretty expensive. After some more walking and a final shopping opportunity, it was time for lunch in a pretty fancy restaurant, which made me feel even worse about the economic chasm between us and the people here. We had bread with olive oil, which I will forever call ali-oli, even once I return home, more of that salad stuff, and chicken cuscus! It was delicious and reminded me a little bit of quinoa. There was also traditional music being performed by a drummer and a man with what looked like a guitar/sitar/pipa hybrid, if that makes any sense. Everyone was getting henna tattoos done by one of the only women in the city with the natural paint that won’t irritate your skin. I’ve never gotten a henna, and I wasn’t going to until Virginia and some other girls peer pressured me into it. I got it on the bottom side of my forearm so that it’s less obnoxious. It’s a floral design and my name written in Arabic. Okay, so pretty fool for only 3 Euros. I did manage to smear it a little in the first few minutes, but it’s fine. After a lovely dessert of a sugary date cookie and minty Arab tea, we hurried back to the bus. Virginia told me to come back up with her. I didn’t want to make the other girl upset, but she was pretty persistent, and I was happy to oblige. We were pretty sleepy, but it didn’t take too long to get back through customs. We sat in the ferry building waiting for a little while, being harassed by natives to buy their same tourist products. We got our passes, and boarded. This ship wasn’t quite as fancy as the last, but it was nice. Virginia, Ashley (A lovely girl who was here fall semester, too), and I sat at a table near the café. Virginia wanted me to get café with her, but I was out of Euros. She bought one for me and said I can pay her back by buying hers when we go to a café some afternoon soon. I love her. I may have loved the café con leche more, though… it’s kind of a toss-up. The boat ride was quicker, and soon we were through security, though it is much harder getting to Spain from Africa than vice versa. Virginia spent the ride back to Sevilla teaching me all of the colloquial Sevillan/Andalusian words and phrases that she could think of. My mind was on the verge of exploding, but man do I have some good new vocab! I think I smiled and laughed more than I have in a while. That was probably my favorite part of the trip. We arrived back at the Torre Del Oro around 10:30pm, and ginger Kaitlin and I walked speedily to Triana before the storm that was brewing hit. When I got home, Carmen was here and Brittany was eating with the kids. I had my soup and croquetas, impressed Carmen with my new phrases, and went to bed around 2. I woke up at noon today and showered. I was working on this entry when Carmen’s daughter called me out for lunch. Antonio was at the table!!! I was so glad to see him, but Brittany told me last night that the neighbor said he has Alzheimer’s, and that it progressed really rapidly in the hospital. I’m not sure if he knows who we are, but I welcomed him home. He isn’t eating or saying much, and he’s lost a lot of weight. It took him a minute to remember his grandson’s name when he came in. To be honest, I’m quite worried. I don’t want anything to happen to Antonio. I like him so, so much, and his family just adores him. But if things keep getting worse, I am afraid of what will happen to us. I guess we’ll wait and see. Now I need to finish reading my novel for class tomorrow before choir. Happy Monday! I arrived at the school for my lesson Monday and aw a package slip for me in the “M” mailbox! I went to the front desk, and they handed me a massive, though fortunately light, package. It was from a dear family friend, Jen, who I’ve known forever through dramatics at NHS. She had sent this poor package weeks ago, but it got stuck in Aduana, Spanish customs. It took some doing to get it unstuck, but here it was! I was so excited. Stinking customs. I walked to choir and then home with this huge package. I jumped on my bed to open it with my keys, and inside I found perfection. She sent barbecue chips, gum, chapstick (which is great, because I could use some and it is terribly expensive here), Hershey’s minis, really amazing granola bars, my favorite kind of Poptarts, my favorite candy – the York Peppermint Patty, and best of all, 2 boxes of macaroni and cheese! I couldn’t have been more excited and grateful for this box. It was such a kind gesture, and I was truly touched. I broke into the chips, did homework, had dinner, and went to bed. Tuesday was a full day of class and practicing piano. For Anthropology, we met at the Museum de la Macarena, which is all about the Semana Santa and the material things used in it. Everything was beautiful and striking, and I love the history behind it all. Of course, the whole time I was thinking of how these riches should have been used to feed the poor, but I try to appreciate it for what it is. We had to write a short essay about something we observed in the museum, and I argued the contradiction of so many virgins and saints taking away from the monotheisticity (is that a word?), of Catholicism. I’m such a product of the Reformation. Afterwards, I walked with Corrie, Carrie, and Janette, and we hung out by the river and had deep life chats. It was really nice to be with some different types of people and not just go right home. That night, we had dinner at the neighbor’s again. We had soup and fish. The fish still had the bones for us to take out, which Brittany has never done before. The neighbor helped her; Gretchen and I knew what we were doing. With it we had red beets with celery and onion. It was supposed to be like a salad, I guess. When we finished, who came to the door but Carmen! We were so happy to see her and after thanking the neighbors, the 3 of us returned home. Carmen told us about what was going on, and when she told us that Antonio was running a bad fever today, she started to cry. Not knowing what else to do, we hugged her and said that everything would be okay. She is worried because it seems like every day, he has a new problem. We sat at the table and talked for a while to cheer her up before pajama time. When I got up in the morning, Carmen was busy cooking and cleaning the bathroom. I ate breakfast and she told me instructions for the fridge full of meals for us to heat up and said she’d be home Saturday. I worked on some school stuff and took a shower. After Brittany came home for lunch, I went to school for my piano lesson. However, this time my professor had made an error with the time. We rescheduled for Thursday, and I gratefully accepted the extra practice time. Choir was alright. The rest of the sopranos have started referring to me as “La Cantante,” or, The Singer. I think they’re funny. During rehearsal, though, sometimes the lack of pitch precision drives me so crazy that I write Roman numeral analyses in the pieces to distract myself. I hate Theory, but it is less painful in this case. It’s not that the choir is bad, it’s just very different than what I’m used to. The concept of pitch is different. I walked home quickly, because that night was mac and cheese night! I was super pumped to cook, and it tasted SO good! We even found the salt and had hotdog tortillas that Carmen had made, for our side dish. We were very silly and had such fun doing simple things like using a strainer and taking first bites. It was definitely a night to remember! Thursday I had a huge lit exam after my speaking module. I studied very little for it, but I’m fairly certain that it went quite well. Afterwards, I went to eat my bocadillo like always, and there was another package slip in my mailbox! Reception handed me a small Barnes and Noble package. I took it to the study to open. In it was a book entitled, Jesus Calling. It’s a devotional for every day of the year and, according to the message, was from my wonderful friend Katie McCoy. She has the same book and hoped I would get as much out of it as she had. What a wonderful, wonderful surprise! She is such a sweetheart, and I was looking forward to reading the devotions. I had my piano lesson, dance, and Anthro. Afterwards, I checked my email and found out that my credit card hadn’t worked, and so I still didn’t have a plane ticket for London. Wonderful. After registering for classes and writing a scholarship thank-you letter, I played a little piano, and a lot of girls came over to watch me. It was extremely nerve-wracking, but probably very good for my performance anxiety. Everyone has a little. I walked back to Triana with Carrie, who is quickly becoming one of my favorite people here. She invited me to go out that night, but instead I spent the evening buying my London ticket once and for all, reading, and planning Friday’s spontaneous adventure! I woke up at 8 this morning, got ready, and packed bread, a tiny can of tuna, an orange, and 2 granola bars. I walked to the San Sebastian Prado bus station to meet Caitlin. Eventually we found the right building and managed to snag the last 2 seats for the 10 o’clock bus to Ronda! We bought the tickets for 24 Euros and found our bus in the nick of time. WE talked the entire 2 hour trip there. Caitlin had no idea what Ronda was, but she is always up for an adventure, and I don’t think I let her down! When we arrived in the white town of Ronda, which is situated on top of a mountain, we followed the signs to the tourism office where we procured a map of attractions and a museum promotion paper for students. We walked out to the nearest lookout point and enjoyed the unbroken view of Spanish countryside from up high. It was quite incredible. We followed the map to the main attraction and the reason I had wanted to come in the first place. The Puente Nueva (New Bridge), connected our side of the mountain across the drop-off chasm, to the historic side of the city. Looking down, it seemed so unreal, as though it was straight out of a Lord of the Rings film. It was so gorgeous and so cool, but I have to admit, I was a little disappointed in the view. The pictures I’d seen had been from further away. From here, you just really couldn’t get the full effect. That’s when I saw a tiny patch of path out in the gorge on the other side of the mountain. And that, I decided, was where I needed to be. So we set out across the bridge to find the beginnings of the pathway. We walked down a few beautiful streets and through a small park, which served as another lookout. Eventually we saw stairs going down, and so we went. The path was windy, but the danger signs seemed a bit much. It didn’t take long to get to the spot I had seen from the other side. The bridge opened up before us, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. The bridge is legitimately unreal. It is massive and perfectly crafted. I think I have at least 150 pictures of it. WE were about ready to hike back out to check out some museums, when we saw a continuation of the path. Needless to say, we never did get to the museums. We carefully made our way down the narrow paths. It was slightly terrifying, as bad footing could have literally had us falling to our deaths. Even so, we frolicked, took pictures, and took in the majestic views all around us. It was so far up and so far down. Finally, we arrived at the bottom of the 400-ft deep gorge and got to touch the base of the bridge. We thought that was the peak of our adventure, but each time we thought that, we discovered a new branch in the network of dangerous walkways. We went down a sketchy staircase, and across a half-collapsed trail underneath the bridge. WE were next to the small waterfall, and there were tunnels of water that ran through the side of the bridge. It was so epic! We came to the other side into the gorge where the side of the mountain has rounded parts and looks like Pandora in the movie Avatar. Looking up from this side, we saw a ladder bolded into the mountain. It didn’t really lead anywhere, but we took turns climbing it anyway. Then we took pictures by a small stone springhouse type thing that has a sketchy ladder straight down into the dark with lots of cobwebs. Then we climbed down the rocks and touched the water. It was so cold! We sat on a flat, dry spot to split my packed lunch. It was amazing to sit and think of the tunnel in the bridge being used as a torture chamber by both sides during WWII. I read that sometimes, they would toss prisoners out the windows to fall to the rocks below. It’s so morbid and tragic, but also so intriguing. Construction began on the bridge in 1751, and it took 42 years to complete. Over 50 people died while in the process of building it. Isn’t that insane?! I’m sure it won’t help my parents’ nerves knowing that we were climbing around these areas where people had fallen… but… nothing happened! We started to hike back up, hoping it would take less time than our 2-hour descent. But we took a few pit stops to check out other paths that led to places like a dilapidated stone house on the edge of the cliff, a circular stone bench, and the Arc of Jesus, where we sunbathed on a rocky overhang. We checked out beautiful flowers and avoided bees on our way out to a small tower that appears to be more recent. I wanted to freeze every moment. The sky was clear, and it was sunny, but not hot. Such a perfect day to be alive! Breathing heavily after finally reaching the mountain top, we decided to return to the modern side of the city to find a nice café with a bathroom. We walked for quite a while trying to avoid the tourist zones so that we could try more traditional Rodenian food. We settled on a restaurant where we ordered Café con Leche and fried shrimp to share. We enjoyed the free bread with olive oil, and were very satisfied with the fluffy-battered shrimp and French fries. I wanted ketchup, but the vinegar served well enough. It wasn’t a very expensive place, and we sat there chatting for quite a while. Unsure of our actual return tickets, we walked back to the bus station to make sure we didn’t need to do anything else, which apparently we did. The 6 o’clock we had wanted to take was full, so we walked around and played cards on a bench until it was time to board the 7. We went through our pictures and talked the whole way home. At one point, the girl across the aisle interrupted to ask where we were from. We talked to her about our studies, Spain, and all sorts of things. She has studied English for 10 years and spent last summer traveling alone in England. It blew our minds when she told us she was only 17 years old. She seemed so much older! She is certainly one brave girl, and her stories kind of inspired me to try to stop being such a wimp. We got off and walked home. It was a good walk, even though I felt dead tired. I had worn my boots today, and when I went to cross one of the intersections on the main road in the center, my boot slid, (as the rubber traction had come off during dance class), and I went flying toward the pavement. Nobody else was walking near me, and somehow I managed to swing my leg and arms in a way that threw my weight back upward, and I didn’t fall. I have no idea how that actually happened, and I would love to see a video of it. I think I scared a few people, including myself. Spain has made me into a ninja. After I showered, I heard a different voice in the living room. It was Carmen! She was in good spirits and made my favorite soup and chicken for dinner. Antonio is to have surgery to remove the blood frokm around his lung on Monday, and if everything goes well, he will do rehab and be home in a week or so! I sure hope his operation is flawless and that he can come home soon. Please send up a few prayers and have a relaxing weekend! For more pictures, visit my facebook account. There are TONS, and they are GORGEOUS. Friday night my piano lesson was cut short because apparently the center closes at 8 on Fridays. Oops. I wasn’t home for long before the neighbor woman came in looking for us. When Brittany got home, we were to go up to her apartment for dinner. She made us noodle soup, salad, and chicken. It was SO good; definitely one of the best meals I’ve had here. We watched some assassins movie with her and her son who is like 40. It was a nice change of pace. We didn’t know when it was appropriate to leave, but eventually we excused ourselves so I could get to bed.
7:45 came way too fast. I got ready, made and ate my breakfast, and walked to the bus. Once all 20 of us were there, we started south. I wanted to watch the scenery, but kept falling asleep. When we got to El Rocio, our leader, Lery, like the cucumber, told us to leave our big bags on the bus. We walked around and he told us all about this outpost area. El Rocio is not a town, but rather a gathering place. Hundreds of years ago, an image of the Virgin Mary appeared in a tree here to some man, telling him to build a church where the tree was. There is now a huge golden alter in the church with a structure of the Virgin. These Catholics. Every year, the hermandades, or brotherhoods, from all over Spain come to EL Rocio for the processional of the Virgin. Sometimes brotherhoods come at a random time to do their own masses in the church. Each hermandad has its own huge house with a build-on place of worship where they come to stay, worship, eat, and spend time together. It sounds like a good old time! The ground here is all sand, which benefits the horses – the main form of transportation here. Currently, everyone in El Rocio is refurbishing and preparing for the big celebration season to come again. It was so cool. What a way of life! Shortly after, we hopped back on the bus for another half hour. WE had about 3 hours to spend at the beach, and we certainly made the most of it. As we neared the shore, the ocean spread out in front of us. It was beautiful and glistening in the sunlight. I couldn’t wait to get my feet in it, but first, lunch. Since nobody had been home and I hadn’t made myself a bocadillo, I had to get something there. Megan and I joined Lery, who reminds me a little bit of my dad and Mr. Smyser, at a table at one of the many seaside café bars. Lery helped me with the things I didn’t know on the menu. I ended up ordering 3 tapas. I got albóndigas, which are the meatballs in a yellow sauce, a mojata (or something like that) montadito, which is just a tiny sandwich with really good meat, and gambas fritas, fried shrimp! There were 3 shrimp in a thick, tasty batter, some cold rice with corn and carrot, and a creamy white sauce. I was afraid to try it at first, bit it ended up being the thick garlic used in Middle Eastern food. It was great and I put it on everything. Of course, I washed it down with a lemony Tinto de Verano. It was nice to eat looking at the ocean, but now it was time to get in it! Megan and I sat our stuff far back on the warm sand, wince the tide was coming in. We ran down and put our feet in. As warm as the air was, the water was frigid! After taking a few pictures, Megan went back to lie on her towel and I walked up and down the beach for just over an hour. The view was breathtaking, and I love the salty smell of the ocean. I thought of the last few times I’ve been to the beach. Like junior year with my family, Val, and Sierra. That was SO fun. I think the last time I went was with Jenny Fert and her family. I remember carrying baby Ashton up and down the beach, and jumping in the waves with Dylan on my back. That was a wonderful week, too. I think it is impossible for me to be in a place that is so beautiful and nice and to not think of the people I would be sharing it with if I were home. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t enjoy it. I know that those people all want me to have a great time and enjoy what I’m doing, and I am! It was so nice to walk by myself. But of course I think of other people, too. I have accepted that I will always think of other people. There is nothing wrong with that, as long as I don’t let it affect the fun I am having here and now. I think of those people and smile, knowing that it is snowing where they are and that I am enjoying the beach, and how fun it will be to tell them about it. The shells, the sand, and the waves were all perfect. I went and lay in the sand by Megan, quite literally, as I didn’t have a towel. Eventually the bright sun made us nervous, so we retreated into the shade of an outdoor café. We got ice-cream – all chocolate for me this time. Soon we got back on the bus to hit up the Parque de Donana. We got out of the bus and were asked how much experience we’ve had riding horses. Since apparently I had the most, I was assigned to a spirited horse named Corna. She was beautiful, and I loved her. She always wanted to go faster than the group and turn around when she got the chance, but I had no problems with her listening to me. I can see how she would have been a huge issue for someone who didn’t know what they were doing, though. In the line-up, Corna has to be second, so I rose right behind the guide and helped tell the other girls what to do when we came to certain obstacles like branches and hills. It was pretty cool. The woods were gorgeous, and it was even better when we got out to the beach. The only things that could’ve been better are A) that the group shut up a little and the one girl stopped being so rude, and B) that I could just go running down the beach with Corna and not walk in the line. Still, it was very enjoyable and the weather was perfect. We got back to the paddock and dismounted. I scratched Corna’s face for a bit, and then it was time to go. I think I may have drooled on myself on the bus. That sun really wore me out! The bus stopped at Triana again, and I got home right around 9. Brittany and I heated up our dinner and watched another dumb horror movie about a demon child and a cop. It was pretty awful. I went to bed without any alarms set and woke up around 10:30. I showered and we ate our breakfast. Then we sat around. Then we ate lunch. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban was on TV! As bad as it is that our host parents are still in the hospital, I have to admit, I really like this ‘our apartment’ feeling. I love watching TV in English and hanging out in the living room. I left around 6 to meet Caitlin by the river. We sat there and talked while the sun lasted, and then we went and got delicious churros. It was super fun, and then I went home to eat upstairs at the neighbor’s again. This time, here American student, Gretchen, who we hadn’t known existed, was home. She’s a junior nursing major in Milwaukee and is here with another program. I like her a lot! We had our soup and tortilla de patatas with tomatoes and watched “Vengadores,” the Avengers. Then I went to bed and today I spent several hours looking at flights to London to go see Ann. They are ridiculously expensive. These airlines are committing so much highway robbery. Soon I have to walk to school for my piano lesson and then for choir. Wish me luck! Choir Monday night was ok. We spent a lot of time waiting for the men to learn their parts. Tuesday was a full day of classes. I went to the market on my way home and bought cookies and cough drops, both of which would obviously help make me feel better. I spent a long time on Skype with my parents that night talking about all sorts of things. It was very nice, especially since I don’t talk to my Dad as often as I would like to. They told me that my grandma had just come home that day, which was definitely good news! Hopefully she starts to get better sooner than later. I coughed all night again and when morning came I was exhausted. I ate my breakfast, showered, and went back to bed. When Brittany came home for lunch, we ate, and then took siestas. I wasn’t very well rested, but I headed to school an hour before my piano lesson to warm up. What I hadn’t realized was that with the United States’ shift in daylight savings time, our original lesson time was now an hour earlier here. I emailed Dr. Blinov as I trotted through the city to tell him that I was on my way, but we ended up rescheduling for Friday anyway. Instead of practicing right away, I sat by myself out in the patio area and wrote postcards for a while. Writing them is hard work! I have to write very small and to try to say a lot in a little space. Then I practiced for about an hour and a half. I got a message from Brittany asking if I wanted to go to Cien Montaditos, which I obviously did. We each got one montadito. Hers was a hotdog – figures. I ordered a green pepper and bacon one. It was divine. We drank tinto de verano and enjoyed being out and about. I forgot to mention that that morning, Carmen had taken Antonio to the hospital because his anemia is getting bad. When we went home, our dinner of pumpkin soup was ready to be heated up. Carmen was home, and she actually sat and talked with us while we ate, which was a nice change. She told us about Antonio’s history of heart trouble and how he’s really not himself lately. She said that he’s usually very joking with the Americans and loves to tell stories about the Sevillan culture, the history of Triana, and about his life. I so wish he could do that with us. I know he wants to. He jokes with us a little and obviously cares, but it just hurts too much for him to sit up and talk a lot. Carmen said that he works with iron, making different things like the table and chair set in our livingroom, which is super impressive! She said that he has done it since he was rather young, and, even though he is retired, he likes to make small things when he gets an order. That’s where he always was before he fell. You can tell he misses it. Gosh, I hope he’s okay. They gave him two bags of blood that first day. Carmen got ready for bed and so did we. She was gone when I got up to go to class in the morning. Classes were very long all day, which wasn’t helped by my waiting to go home to open the care package I got in the mail! When I finally got home around 8 after a really lousy 2 hours of Anthropology, I tore at the tape with my keys. On top was a card with smiley face stickers. Mom knows me so well! The box was overflowing with Rice Krispie treats, Special K crisps, and peanut butter / cheese crackers. I laughed out loud as I took all of them out. There underneath was a big purple fluffy mess of yarn. I knew it was a scarf, but I was quite confused for a few minutes before I figured out how to put it on. It is beautiful. My sister is so dang crafty. I just love it! Under the scarf were 2 journals so that I have somewhere to write after I get through this one. The one is like old Latin world map kind of things with some texturing. It has a magnetic closure like my first one, and I love it! So travelesque! The second one has a dark, peacock-feather cover. The outer tips of the pages are gold, and there are little feather designs on each page. It is gorgeous. I might be writing slightly bigger now because I can’t wait to use them! I was home alone talking to some friends online until Brittany got home from class. We heated up our vegetable dinner, which is sort of like salsa, so I like it, and hotdogs! It was great. We also switched the one show on TV back to the original English, which was also great. Except it was a horror film and after about 20 minutes, I was legitimately freaked out. Brittany enjoyed making fun of my jumpiness. I did my homework and got ready for bed. I coughed all night again, so having a full day of Friday classes to make up for a missed Thursday was awful. I am starting to get annoyed with a few of my classmates, and in particular one who just loves to hear herself talk. Anyhow, during my lunch break I met this girl, Emily, who was working on one of the easier Mozart piano pieces. We talked all about classical music, which was refreshing. At one point, some random man stood and listened to her play. He complimented her and asked her about some piano things, and then they made me play. I was nervous, but I played my Mendelssohn as best as I could. I hadn’t noticed that two of our directors had come in to listen. They were quite impressed, and I was quite embarrassed. A few minutes later, the one director, Virginia, who is like 24 and super cool asked me to be her roommate on our Morocco trip! I’m pretty excited, but also nervous about not understanding her. It should be fun! Well now I have Anthro before my piano lesson. My focus is going to be so bad. Tomorrow I go horseback riding on the beach, though, so all is well! Have a great weekend! Go see the Susquehanna University Opera!!! It’s going to be AMAZING. |